I try to question myself from a crook, well depths of self-marking, as with the only real crime of crime; that it exists and still wants to prosper. I want to cry for help, just like yelling at my chronic little age, squeezing: _ , dear! Adopt! Be my cherished mother, when all and everyone has been abandoned! "_ - I will soon be disappointed and realize that it is a literal nonsense for anyone to get on the iron gates that are not opened anywhere.

Like the law of the law, like something always moistened, the stigma-stigma-stigma's past, the stifling, strangling fragments of my past; ****** capillaries blink in my drumming heart, as if it were a malfunctioning, hard-to-repair pump that only pumps the life-giving oxygen elixir if they are in despair for a few minutes.

There is nothing cozy among the greasy hungry flowers in Paris derivatives and as much as friendly as possible; Freaky knives to see a cheap, small -style flea circus in the news, the miserable theatrical formula of everyday abandones, and the era of leeches that are dried on the bones.

Why do you have to see that the lovers were also replaced by pink ******* and expensive console angels when it was once a liberation from tons of Sififus weights that one person could look into the other's truthful eyes?!

Can we trust our friends, family members -if they were at all at all?! Don't you want to harvest with this deliberate primacy, the enforced, manipulation situations, petty situations?! "It doesn't matter if the simple average anthil is living or dying!"

In the depths of closure almost immediately, why do we feel that life and death are still impatient on the threshold of existence?! From here, every time of every spiral circle closes early until you are confused about it. We can't even start with a breath of breath, as our daily cumbersome days have become more and more counts, so they can be measured and measured when, where, how much they made a mistake for us.

The roses in the depths of the heart were called twilight, which, if they thought, was deliberately blocked in the coronary tunnels, the molecular networks of free oxygen flows in the coronary arteries. At a bus stop, it is almost palpable not only a manipulative tool for massed psychosis, but a silent infarction that grows as an atomic bomb, calling for almost always late attacks as a diving bell.

The mucus bile in the stomach, as if it were to give birth to kaleidoscopy over and over again, and on mirror pieces, infants should learn to understand once and for all: their lives will never be a romantic fairy tale or a nice foam cake. The wreaths of heart -shaped gingerbread may not have been really crumbs - they were digested by uncertainty that medication or durable food should be purchased.

In the brain -era of nonsensical phrases, one would become more and more desired towards an unparalleled life, as a sweet -sad, childish nostalgia, because he feels and knows -perhaps -he can hardly be a second sans. Now, we are struck as a fish in intentional subordinates as a fish for another forced time!

It would have been good to leave my discomfort - for at least a few hours - to leave, to leak to leak between my circulation; Even with a low watercourse, the pendulum-like wire, which has been slipped on the cooler door, barely took off the brown chocolate pearls of durable, massive faeces. It would be a good thing to quit the self-time at least some days, of which there is quite a few available, and then less and less.

My seemingly confident self-confidence is cut off by an unpleasant or just unfriendly calling, usually by the wild baundry motorists, or the company of the bohemian teenagers who are well-sufficient in public transport asks for a larger room for maneuver, He tells you that you. There is such a livable world out there, etc ... Well, that's a lot of good for me!

Incredible secrecy or intentional inaccessibility, even in twenty -four hours of the day, is no longer ordinary or conventional. - Greasures and worms can feel just as cozy, comfortable in a situation that was forced, as well as the average, when they have fallen asleep, that they are consciously afraid to ask the nature of unknown things because those outside - may be stupid.

Purgery wounds are caused by disintegrated friendly bonds because they are retrieved, depriving them of the ability to heal; There will be perfect unexpectedness to the bagatell nothing if they are not careful and let them lose what could not be created!

The world is now cosmos, Donga's legs are still moving towards the cosmos; Stone, whimsical, silent celestial star in the nests of stratospheres. Other times, in a negative way, he would almost flatten himself back to another galaxy if possible. At the edge of existence itself, there may have been some confusion between the two endpoints of the silence that no one has understood nowadays.

It may be better to flee from sun-busters that look helpless, because they can't even listen to more experienced, wise words that the scientist gave birth to their brains; On wandering serpentine trails, they march over our heads in the way of curling snakes, which have been disgusted, and for decades. The loosened staples of the souls were as if they had long been rusted, as the lubricant oil was also being cut by someone.

The Dariido People are now increasingly stinking from the arrogance of the Hübris-nourished manner, and they smell so daddy in their souls, although they are stretching out of the outside in a branded suit and showing the imagined standard; Tiny shiny rings shine in the heroic lovers, while the night falls back into the darkness of the night.

Uncertain, the world still feels the selfish-mown truth, which he can never prove enough, and his victims have become unprotected by dedicated to the hopes of survival to the hope of a better and noble period. Perhaps the earthly fruits of the universe will also be trapped halfway?!

Beautiful, negative words are now gone, like the chronic blind, and the stars ever brightening are stumbling upon themselves; The Creator Silence -Fearful -can no longer cover it completely, but it will not allow it to be safely hugged after a more difficult weekday. It is as if spiders are weaving the uncertain tomorrow, man often, even a small child, will be in everlasting games, because he cannot trust anyone anymore, perhaps not even keeping his closest acquaintances close to themselves.

The relationships, like manipulation, unveiled acts can still be occupied by an abnormal body, as well as the thinning body built from the cells of instincts. A vain lover is also a wounded heart that makes a loyalty vow, and for some reason, ten years away, a single question, when a final break is made: "Why did we fall in love with each other?! Do you remember yet?! Look into my tearful eyes and say you loved it at a particular universe! "

In the willful sea of ​​determination, emotional storms were raging in groups and could only be very, very difficult to dampen; Thousands of trials can no longer be endured, tolerated by the human soul, which eagerly thirst for empathy-tolerance just like the absolute love.

The clamping compulsion now voluntarily puts a soul into the body, a mind into thoughts; Perhaps once, the human turn, the restless stress-voltage, which occasionally has mood breaks, will be finally overwhelmed, and as nature changes day by day, minute by minute. Many times it would be so welcoming for a heart -born, redeeming smile to give up a reconciled human interior, which is united with itself.

You look like the star Sirius,
Leading to my attachment serious.
You are a beauty by the outside,
Question unasked of the inside.
The hair of yours I want to adore,
The nose I want to touch without rapture,
Your feelings I want to capture,
You as my partner I want to feature,
The idealization I want out of my nature.

I couldn't believe that anything could exist after the great nirvana-nothing; When, as tiny nuclei, more than millions of cells molecules, the heart-wounded heart is decomposed on a millions of molecules, the shipwreck souls screams the pain of the last prayer, before they finally get out of captivity. The uncertain life serpentine trails are still invisible beyond the life they have begun, but still felt and present.

Without gap continuing, the constantly self -proclaimed human thought builds a stairs; How would a human infinite story have continued if we dare to step down a minute-to-minute fragment of the impossible venture that is ridiculous to some of them, or the eternal love, which is supposedly only once in our lives, as it is an arranged series of other repetitions.

Now, everyone can only push the memorial box, but doubt that it will open it, because it is so many times not only free will but also the law of humility; For common pleasures, he could no longer remain free tickets or quotas. Tomorrow's deliberately blind hope would be unexpected to demand wandered Jusses, and still do not understand who endless dances are going around?!

On the path of our destiny, we stumble upon it, as time as time as time as time as old as agitated and soulful. The rebellion of the masses can never be thank you enough, a pathetic merit for the otherwise complicated history complex.

Nowadays, those who are tough in tough destinies, as if they had become slippers, who had to kiss their legs and *****, because - secretly - they know more and more; Praise, petty premiums, pathetic laurels have never been given for free or just salary.

Fair work - if at all - has long been gone. Only fake-lieing, tinsel, small-style, small-style little practices, which usually took the big average to easily scam everyone on the backboard.

The prophets of truth and wisdom were retreated into their mole-like caves because they found that the mass-massed people of the modern age had intentionally turned their backs not only to the archangels' crooks, but also to the Jericho trombones, as well as manipulated Cassandra.

The dog's wounded palms trained in a tablet, the dog is not even curious; In the drunkenness of their daily drunkenness, they are crushed by their daily work abundance Stathanov's chips. The stolen life scatters fragments of rocks because it would be in vain to reuse the majority raw material. Human wildlife is forced to knees by the higher idiot leadership.

Until the unexpected day of their death, they carry their marshmallows with forced, indifferent resignation, and while the PlayStation, gadget-manic new donkey generation turns the back of the good man, just like the universal values ​​of books, culture, the Atlantic-flowered sighs of romance.

On the rockets of Katyusa wings, the nuclear, uncertain future trembling, rumbling over our heads; And while cells, billions of molecules, are in a moment into nucleus, perhaps the human feelings that are thought to be eternal, loyal, are breaking, increasing themselves to more than millions of particles in the confused presence!

From scattered letters, you can rarely put together who you were used to, because radical digitalization is now like some malicious, pathetic illness in your daily lives. Because you can only observe the change in yourself, which, according to truth, does not change, at most, only instincts can also change or change.

It is as if even your DNA would perceive the one you can trust, because you don't always be a scream or a heccle - but you will definitely follow your childish rules of play and who, when you lightly, is nonsense.

From your squeezed mouth biting words, no one has yet asked how and how you feel so many desperate, hopeless decades from a distance. The deliberately beautified memories of you, so that the uncertain present can look a little more livable for at least sixty a few years, and then it doesn't matter to you. Because camouflaged sincerity's personalized forced jacket is nowadays finally getting out, as if wearing severe scrapers are almost impossible.

Monkeys obedient to preaching words in brainwashed brains march not only on the border of monkey countries; You can compare you to a sorrow, no one, no one has spoken to anyone, as if it were an inner defensive mechanism that you can only understand and accept.

In the way of sleeping, even a pathetic, laughing ghost, you are still limping, hard-to-life, and you would love to have your dear, you can shake hands because you have to love it, and it is still easy!