He squeezed himself out there into our maze. The humble, small-style toys of logic believed to be an invincible, even smaller or larger situations, are filled with a filth of the present time, which can no longer be improved. We feel infallible, and we know that we often need to go through the impassable, girbe-gurba roads, even if we can hardly change it.

The silent, accomplice, start -up - can still come in handy. Just the refreshing, refreshing tingling of the found soul harmony, which can only be offered by the Savior Universe -if you like -as a gift. In the russians of the Justitia weighs, we can trust more and more rarely, as well as in our handshake, spicl-like friends.

Halfway between the falls and the falls, we are all walking over a half-or two millimeters of rope dancers in just one or two millimeters; For a long time, the redeeming moments of bean, cherishing caress, ready -to -call consolations seem like an unattainable distance ...

Stigma stamps were now struck on adults on adult, cared, dismantled faces, which still had a curious playfulness of eternal children. Lame anger, disgrace, seems to be more and more fashionable and stays in fashion. - We dip our clown image in the flour powder of the weekdays, but we no longer dare, nor do we want to laugh with ourselves.

Once we will just look back at us mirrors from the bottom of the curve-groteszk, an unknown torso face, and then the judgment of the crowd sakes: how and how we got here?!

It is increasingly limping or shattering, Mihasna's Perpatvar, Vocabulary preaching is an obsco of the long -brainwashed thoughts. Because almost everyone already knows, or at least guessing that chess steps - sure, sure - should be harmed with a higher power, and do not press unnoticed the certainly prepared, symbolic red button that can deliver a giant mushroom cloud.

They put on the infinite, illusion sheet of lies, if necessary, if not, as if the human soul would have been more ancillary loss or a commodity to its waist; There are plenty of people who may even have a weedwriting in fruit flavors with a calm heart, as it serves their wise interests. It is as if they get used to it in the cells to be angry with themselves in the cells, not just the world that has become a place.

Because all depths, falls, are also a mouse hole in itself, from where it is not possible in the spiral labyrinth circles, as they deliberately removed the clamp-opening, redeeming keys to existence. Rather, everyone is deliberately nesting in the tuna indifference and forgotten behind their fence, where the silence has long been filled with dirt. Temporary immobility, like some silent betrayal, enters the pores of the mucus skin unnoticed.

As in confused water, the sludge sits down in the heart and soul of man now well a memory, past, and present; What the other is interested in the exibitionist embryo surface, when it does, scraps its own selfish-mushy profit-making every day. Wave-broken, crushed torso images clings to the fragments of those who have not yet been forgotten and may not really be able to recreate or re-create a broken situation, a gesture of gestures, the dance of manipulative pupils that can be seen on waxy faces.

He sits with a curved soul, tame, and obese the hesitant indifference, if there is none, no longer, which would actually be rebellious. Soft, snow-white babies rumble roller drums and pikes to see if someone else hears. Why, how can a man be only a spinning sacrifice for this current nonsense, vulnerable age?!

Distorted sermon speeches proclaim sufficiently rotting ideas, which, if no one cares, lightly pimple and wash the brain's thoughtful creative tissue. The thought - feared - can hardly scream. Because perhaps a long time in man has been accumulated in every reason to be disgusted and nailed to the stupid, humble wickedness.

For sure, what is certain, it would be good to understand what is certain; Man is running deeper, even in the spiral of refugees, if you think you want to finally understand yourself for a lifetime. Every lap will run around, maybe you can come back to you once!

With a naive, almost smiling, faithful faith, I did not know for a long time that the world was saturated with blood, dirt, filth. Wherever I look, I look like a crowd of human-mass dariders, like so many flat-off worms traveling in flat-off, who would be able to ride each other, if they could do it. The only question is who is better off with the ins and outs of bribe, manipulation, who has enough dare to dream and step forward with a great big ostrich steps?!

I feel like pulling towards the vortex of depths every day, pulling down the many millions of scrambles and petty intrusion of everyday life; Because everyone wants to get ahead of the rank, but in love, just like the superficial, exibimentist words of the pseudo-pads, just as just the ladder, but in love.

This currently disappointing, fat flattening in this current world is a bile mixed with nausea towards my throat, and if I need to, if I need it, only my own sins, pathetic childish clown shots, if they can count on anything.

I deliberately left the company of dogmas that preach, and I deliberately left the moles of ivory towers, but I don't have to listen to so many incomprehensible, folly rice texts about the promises of the uncertain future.

It is not possible to slow down the rarely stolen time to become a holy shelter of instantaneous rich words, just like for minutes; Because it can be delayed for decades, while "some" continue to bury the old-fashioned cannibal time!

Marbled,
guiding madness of delicate
fragile yet submissive
ear *******