Now, as if he was driving a wind, cloudy clouds jump over and down with a brief grasshopper. It is as if he were a prisoner of time, which he had never let go, but many times he is in prison if he doesn't pay attention enough, or his ever-acting attention is wandering away.

All prisoners of the age of the modern mass man are to avoid this temporary fact -at least for the time They like it.

Gigantic lottery game that -involuntarily -is now involved, and although he has long been aware that he should have left the cheap chase of small -children's dreams, but no one is so cheap that he even tells himself - Although nothing is excluded nowadays.

The eternal one of the Nesse was always followed by a shadow; With a broken cheap momentum, he finished another telling card circle because he was eagerly chasing the momentary reputation, buying happiness, ownable economy, even though he knew it was no use, because it was just a silent voice without a sheet of emptying!

This is how it slowly becomes the practical action of persecuted minds of everyday cheap-elementary commercial days.

Pudding test

As if you were at the same time in dialectical interaction with everyone; Instead of slowed truths, the era of deliberately accelerated lies, decisions, and beautiful ears were now. The bankruptcy of redeeming traps seemed to be a minute-to-one, as the events of everyday life believed to be rock-solid are merely repentant for those who stayed here.

Now everything is so uncertain, vulnerable, translucent; A gesture, or a attractive flirt-smell, a holy guarantee of given handshakes that create new career opportunities at the same time, but at the expense of everyone else.

Whether the manipulation of status and interest relationships would be easy to succeed. And while wounded hearts may suffer new, calculating, self -established pipe fractures where the souls who want to take care of the soul remain, who would have the job to heal the spiritual wounds?!

Somewhere halfway between quilting and respect, the Almighty point had long been lost: you. that they were once raised for mortals and people, who, in the company of the masses, became mobs by the time to change.

Chewing gum mass, sticky slashes have become the feeling or simplified confession; List thresholds -as you like -can only cross one average during a single shipwreck. Is it more difficult for the mere defiance to be more difficult if the conscious doubts are not haunted daily?!

How many more wasted, pitiful, nightmare-filled, futile vigils are needed for a moment that was said to be eternal, to let not only the lack that is said to be permanent, but also the emptiness to leak out once and for all?! Despite the deliberately diverted parts, it seems as if the pitifully structured scenario could have always remained the same.

Sooner or later, someone will really get to know someone, and what's more, on an instinctive, visceral level, they will unexpectedly throw them away, saying; he delved too much into the other's more personal, more modest, lyrical self, which is like a thick, unbreakable walnut gut, and it's a tough job to even break it open, especially when someone tries to protect and protect his soul with doubled spiral walls.

Then comes another love that flirts with the Universe, but is still trite, which may seem to totally replace, change, and convert the person in question, until finally, one fine day, it ends in a painful breakup simply because the secret gigantic weight, the outbursts of honest, lying emotions are no longer they can be enough to make everything right, or just make up for it.

Questions, new illusions, and insecurities surround the individual day by day, and when the registrar's finale comes, instead of the obligatory yeses, nos are heard, because material well-being is still worth more than a paltry, life-smelling petty emotion. But the long-awaited solid and eternal snail-house happiness just can't come, since both parties made a petty, calculated deal in their own way, so they bargained at the same time. It's a shame to put the apparent oiliness in yet another set of question marks.

The current social conventions, which can be chosen on purpose, are still deliberately imposed on each individual and try to regulate the life of the traditional average, while, condensed into a single minute, the given life will soon fly away, and there will not be a single witness left who knows who was, or could have been, the another?!