Behind the apparent superficiality, the indifferent exhibitionist attitude, human epithelial layers are deployed as chitin armor not only on inner, more jealous emotions, but also for the rings of trust. Only tiny, almost insignificant, humble pests are continuing their work with a lovable, emphatic background noise. Halfway through the subconscious impersonality, the dramatic, silent tension is still gently overwhelmed.

The found, validation metaphor for happiness seems to be geller on the richter scaling of modern mass; Because nowadays, as a chameleon, anyone can change shapes and smooth it consciously into an increasingly worse, livelier environment. They say - at best - a spectacular amount as a peculiar unit of measurement for the purchase of the soul, and the three -step distance modification is increasingly valid.

In the capillaries, hardly visible to the eyes, doubt, sorrow, perhaps even pain; The doubt and pursuit to something noble, to the right, can give even a smaller extra incentive for cumbersome self -esteem, dignified dignity. Acceptance remains, though - no doubt - that it is not intentionally. You will be unnoticed inside and out of the outside, as the dog is not interested in what's going on inside!

We should be a liar in each case, for those who voted trust for craftsmen, just like the Mihasna, to be noble, to go to the goat cabbage?! Come on! It is covered by blind shadows, groping instead of humans, stumbling in the world!

Equipped movements, love testimonies, enforcement of fallen loopholes in the spinning time, the cities of Ninivei doomed to spin; The little benefits of trembling and acts. Do roaring blood clots still reach the heart's atrial wreaths safely so that the total infarction does not occur?! The youngest donkey generation seems to have been mistakenly manipulated, as they are threatened by lasting hind legs and wrinkles.

The multitude of mass people cross homeless gillists; From the bottom of the depths - fear - maybe there is no perfect way out. There are only tolerances and preparations in the hope of survival that can be sold. Mushroom clouds multiply from the nails of the nucleus of nucleus; Teenager diva are increasingly behaving childhood as if they no longer remember the memories of saraishes and babies.

contagious echoes yell at the deaf ears of the people; Promised benefits are deliberately thrown into the trash cans, saying, be satisfied with the minimal life you are currently. The world shows more and more visible apocryphal signs, and there are hardly any who understand. Portable conscious loneliness stifles his victims, - they have become a grin, and the old well -deserved laughter, which dissolves our inhibitions and may still be liberated.

The source of all the troubles was that the world was still a talmi, which could be easier to die! Halfway between the awake and the actual subconscious, it seemed as if the instinctive, instinctive hesitation ...

It would be good to know that you are guarding the coals, even under the rapid ash; Will, humility, humanity should not go to landfill or lose, just because the superficial, exhibitionist world is now to make ritual head washing in brainwashed monkeys. You should not leave yourself, just like the mass people who get on with each other, they are suspiciously suspicious of being on Lamburgini, Ferrari, or Porschs, mainly on the Andrássy Road of Paris.

Unfortunately, you know that noble intention to be improved nowadays is getting stuck more and more, like some efushed Robinson's shipwreck, and leaves more creative-creator thoughts on robbery chains, since only some more influential circular companies produce a profit profit. Goodness and purpose are now turning your back, because in dark moles, you are looking for labyrinths, and you are now unable to use the cheap use of practical survival: you sell or if you don't pay attention!

Even our naked soul preserves the tamed evening light of inner visions, because it never benefits. Ancient harmony and tranquility perhaps only on the ocean-party pearl Island, if you can find a man in the earthly paradise, where angels are happiness and enjoy the fullness of life.

Once upon a time, it would be good to throw away all the small -style Sififus terrestrial burdens from our anxious inwardlessness, and to keep that inner coals with loyalty to someone while possible. As a radar screen, sincere love is perceived by indoor echoso sounds, only the current modern man is scared of him precisely because he puts only cheap material things in the order of the emotions.

Whether it is a miserable monkey puppy on the tree, they kept the world and the future on their palms, "some" our idyllic, well -deserved dreams have long been sprinkled with salt and concrete, but the actual average should never be able to prevail, though it is a qualification and qualification.

They disappear in a long-standing holy silence, who once existed to flourish a library or a school, and to enrich existence with cultivated heads of people instead of taho-bowling. The walls would not only collapse as they were built, but newer ones grow up, like toxic spore mushrooms, because they might not be wondering, but as a livelihood, this is still done.

Echosating echo pregnant is not just a comfortable guilt, a temporary success, which is good to be redeemed for small money, and while coupon codes can give you some food, and you are paying for the cash register as a salary.

Nowadays, soul and consciousness rarely match; They both sink into a duplicate traitor to themselves, as they could be quite reckless that they still dared to trust and rely on either good friends or the dear angel. They also have timeless time the counted time, which we still have to spend here in the way of happy-sad eternal worrying children.

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?!

We crouched together, halfway between the jaws of the present and future Janus, and no matter how much we decide where we have no idea where we go. There are tremendous prison chains of existence hanging into raba-winged souls. In the forgotten, confidential handshakes, the secret apocrypes of the eyes, the transgression of the universe, which is a bit bordered by the immortal tingling, which is already unnoticed there is something strange; The eyes are more like dripping stars.

In any case, the soul has a new bone bridge smell, massive silence, and it is not yet aware-at least for the time being-whether we have been a fashion beast on the altars of our strained everyday life, or just a casual Yorick-mood?! "Because suddenly, the order and system of intent-by-intentioned order and system run, while the mass army of conscious madnesses often dart."

It is customary to guide silent wildlife on halves to know their own place in the world, which may seem, which may seem, becoming more shallow, superficial, and small. - Axis, medium, or if you like balance can be the writing, text, books. Rather, rather than some self-sufficient, deliberately exhibitionist celebrity-idiot.

Because Hübris, Sanda Döjf, pumps into a sticky small camp of the fake, dizzy, and rogues, which the simpler average does not even know if he dares to believe anyone even.

The stunning, mushroom-smelling mole trick now, all of them, are all galatically, as the clean balance and the ability to reconcile the permanent reconciliation are increasingly insensitive. Embodied ideas, such as exaggerated phalanster theories, are involuntarily grouped in wild ideas that are their own grotesque cartoon.

The more real, real meaning of being is shown in the same way; More and more people are chewing on obsolete roots, gillys, beetles, as even the excise tax on durable everyday food prices has risen well, and this is not a joke in the eyes of many. The roots of the digital neo-avantgarde network are rocking their victims, Y and Z-generation members, who have been involuntarily sniffed by the coach profession.

It was as if arrowheads were drilled around the stigma-level stamped-souls, and at a accelerated pace, the human empathetic and tolerant emotions were purely purulent, which could have been good to make lasting compromises. - Long bees stick to that particular sticky fly paper - true useless - because everything can be swimming who has trust relationships and enough money.

Why is the best feeling nowadays the restrained, but lasting pity that is actually sniffed when they are going to wicked and teased?! -The mass-man Darido tumultus also became a concert hall, and the order was still believed to be an only person, but he could hardly know.

In the furrows of the foreheads, unexpected problems and troubles are now settled; The hopes that were believed to be missed would still be so good to get back from the whirlwind of the sea. The dark rags of the overwhelmed nights, like the tangled amber, unexpectedly wrap the body and soul's complex instinct molecules, which are absorbed and can be integrated into the cells of the cells.

In the midst of increasingly difficult overtime on weekdays, they ventilate their tasteful, swearing sieves from motorists when they are late or are sitting in the rush of traffic jams.

In our world -wide anxiety, why can we feel that everything and everyone is for sale, bribed, or just emotions swap and falsify at the same time?! Human-wreckage offspring, even inverted roots, sprinkled or even scapied from wet drained lands-there is no new blood vessel length, in which man himself can only be transit.

Nowadays, it is not good to be a lot of slit, after all, puzzles guarding secrets can be ashamed of the universe or love-believing love with enigma-level Morse signs; Why do you have to drag on a rope like the vulnerable stray souls with the delicious diva ladies, consuming angels?! Soaked eyelashes are dripping like dark, tattooed ditches, while confetti-racks sprinkle a small bargain.

Between artistically composed gorgo heads and centaurs, they can look less and less in the way of humans; It is unbearable, not-deserved, useless, superficial applause for the ugly, fornica!

Peace pigeons Believe me are rarely flying; On their broken wings, burning storm clouds gather. They can't even strain in the long curve of the rainbow, because the silence was destroyed down there. In all cases, proportions and shadows lie exchanged, with no prices for forgetting steps, small -style reality of petty lads. The semi-opening tulip also seems to be legally closed by a rustling wind.

Snow-white walls would still be good to cover-of course, just as it can-he set up romantic evenings, and the superfluous excess of the soul could no longer be enough. In the hell of time, our deeds' footprints are abandoned. The instinctive lovers who want to shrink into embryos, which would be good to cherish it a bit.

Playful naked waxfaaces are fateful to us, and often we don't even know what to do with them. Peace pigeons are still ****** on our heads because they can't even start with the phrases.

In the scarce passages of increasingly drained doors, we pull the tattooed stubborn revolutions of our face, while our nodding, staring grotesque-distorted mirror images are trying to answer questions and answers.

As the yellowed midnight moon is smiling at us, the yellowed midnight moon is smiling at us. However, it would still be good to travel to the smaller or larger buzzing of the goal-free-free-free-free-free-free-free-free-bun, even before they finally decide to get out or give up.

Our memories raise sifus weights because they would have to testify; The heads of our stinging figures were scattered with sand. The rude hopes believed to be frozen are relocated, while the germs of common sense fold the folds of the forehead!

Unnoticed kitsch-suspicious movements manipulate, distort, and surround their unprotected victims; It is as if they could not swam the fraud and the multiplied collapse themselves, because only the sincerity of souls is the only viable path. The moment is no longer divisible, as well -thought -out lies leave molds in the pores of cells.

The tamed faith of pipes often bleeds on a nippy lips if they cannot feel the amber laundry of the righteous universe; Hammer strokes of breaks and suspicion remain with people, if you want it or not, because it becomes part of it. It would be so good to bandage the broken wings of iron angels, not to wait in exchange for financial benefits.

The lashes are extended, and in the shade of the man, the man's tanned, wake -up coffee is still staring; His chronic mornings are delighted, thirsty, as if he were no longer drunk, but it was sobering the origins of instincts. Life often rings us unexpectedly, like a set alarm clock that goes around again and again.

The decades have come back and forth into the haunting periods of unemployed childhood, when everything could seem much more predictable and maybe simpler. Sometimes only truth can examine the holy sins of the eternal moments broken. It would be good to leave the camp of the fixed liar believing once and for all!