In front of us is a messy, -to say, -in the ***** of a stoic, tuna indifference, perhaps a bit persecuted, human -wreeds, give each other; I still want to save their movable values. Not only the spiritual poor-but also the turrannos that want to be of power, suffer from unknown blindness, because well-suited false interests are cheap, lying, and even so, the average is the same.

There may have been nicer, more successful worlds all over themselves, and as light promises, anyone who is still very susceptible to it was well-placed. Initially, all wills and intentions are creative and evolving, and in the meantime, it becomes manipulated, which runs through hand and middle and is ready for a pseudo -illusion, in which, undoubtedly, it can even be clung to a couple of decades, but after an accelerated disappointment; What was the point of formulas for dreams of card castles?! - Because the consciousness is increasingly not taking its place in its possible van.

And while upstairs, the pigeons who are desiring to fall in the sky can raid and they can empty their waste material in their mourning, the simple average can hardly wipe not only the liquid snow-white snacks on his head, but also the petty bribery of capitalized life.

It would be good to steal the expandable time, as well as the secret of Eden, a little for ordinary people; Instead of an imaginary joy and apparent, acute happiness crushes, extend the tangible prosperity that you. Not only spiritus, but even the Sus, is losing weight too early.

Who else remembers the faithful, friendly handshake, which we used to give each other a gift of each other as the pledge of possible adult lives?! Next to our eyes, the raven-born, attractive little hind legs are trembling, while our thinning hair, which began to be bald, testifies to decades of turning reversal.

In the harbor of the sea bays, Lorelalay fairy shape, unfolds his long hair, on which the water drops are still trembling as the pearls of real beads, and his superstitious gaze still says, "Don't be afraid of anything! I will save from all the Galad -Komis troubles that this traitorous world will deliver to us!

This is how the exclusion of conscious loneliness was once; When we thought we were eternal childish, adolescent, that the so-called. Absolute adults can never speak anymore because it does not belong to them. And while the soft heads were overgrown, and some of their children were born, somewhere that little man had a far away, and on the jersey of the cooked weekdays, fearful, we can hear his child -mouthed intellect.

The deeply hidden silent man was unexpectedly knocked, and while he was hesitant, we were stuck on the chessboard of the capitalized life: that we should go where we should go or just happen to be happy and happy.

He was deeply concerned about this step -by -step, apocalyptic earth order. Invisible, infectious, circling atomic jets are pregnant fruits and vegetables. From the harons of the rotten furrows, even the gillys and worm-fenes have long been extinct or fled. They took their tent pain like some. Modern man, with modern digital drone tools and the needle-pointed destinations of target designs, still crafts his fellow human beings.

Spirally wrapped in snake -like maze -feared -no longer and may not be a solution; Others dictate not only the statutes of the game, but also -perhaps -in the earthly confusion, the mere existence of existence. In the gray prison of concrete frame, even the smell of formalin is stagnated and degraded into an increasingly unbearable nausea.

The robe of wounded souls is now increasingly ravens to tear, wrinkles, as if it were a bunnied Prometheus who could never be rid of underworld vulture, stolen the fire for the withered people. As an uninvited guests, Katyusa was wandering around, bombshell, while a crumbling machine is screaming into the melodies of the Ruttering Winds.

The replaced, former childhood dreams are now criminal on the appealing hanger of life to you. They still wanted to dream of a livelier future, but maybe hopeless; Pale cheese-moon would illuminate the messages of mystical flyers with Pisla tiger nails ...

A tiny, innocent lie is enough for someone to press that particular red button, and while life is so fragile as the grass that nature or human feet can be trampled at any time, we hang on to be tolerated, forced on the degree of chessboard, either straw or waxy, inanimate!

My dream-to-cover makes it void of the dawn; My coma ears are hit by a dull, no noise, the eternal noise of the big cities as an anthill. The lazy worldwide wind still shakes the spring -tamed mood, in which no one can feel the summer forgotten of the summer.

Relaxing, harmonious desires seemed to be intent, just like most shipwrecks; My soul and in my heart are secretly two double shadows, which may be increasingly difficult to decipher, especially for those who practice empathy tolerance not only with well-ringing words but also.

As a cataract, many manipulates the deceived blindness, as well as the harsh -smelling blindfold: anyone who has made a bargain -knowing about himself -is a human law over himself, that is, eternal, unbearable slave tax. - Often, my puffs carrying the wreath of distorted grimaces are more than compelled, because of strange bile, vomiting grimaces on it as thick-hearted layers.

The melody of a damp, dull indifference, like a whip, knocks into my heart: a condemned accusation is the redeeming love of the universe as a gift, as one of the possible antidote to the happy immortality in moments. Calculated chess game -feared -never escapes because he could leave eternal doubt, as well as self -denial of conscience.

As a wound, only the boredom of boredom, later in the sober, conscious doubt: how should it be different, forbidden, forbidden, or even lame-and-whining, to get out of the grinding treadmill of everyday life?

Kerouac tattooed skin shows secret signs, vision signs; The more striking, the better they are. Peace loan bread rarely returns, just like the money ends at nine at the cashians will deliberately take a worthless little money. Still, in the suits that began to be disgusted, the big Cula-Weais were still able to stay, and they dared to stay, because everyone was a crook, even the son of the housekeeper and the washer. The world would not only pull the curtains of a kitschy, ordered fog that repulsive, but even packs a few tons of shovels to make the simple minority even harder.

Lightweight, small -style women seem to have a little stronger makeup and needle heels, who, although they promised their parents, would hopefully get home safely in half before midnight, and the end result is only nine months later. Flower petals tear the accelerating time. "Is Ágnes like the Melós Kisitós Géza, who is torn off from the branch?

Nowadays, even more and more people would want to be ironed once, and for all, they have become a shipwreck, and their mortal everyday life and pigeon fibers are combed from the bald-dandruff head of decades. With the rags of our memories, it would be good to look for and find the grip points that are secured again; Dogs crouching in alley smells are homeless, while semi -full demonstrations flow, like the blood of twilight red wine with tablet smells.

Perhaps only the Savior Death Consciousness can bring about the final amnesty that can be a redeeming death of death!

They put the man out of the big whole, that you. Try to cultivate the time of mortality. Inside, in the manipulated one-depth of the soul, the happy-sad dust of the past decades fluttering as sand. Because eternal moments would be good to adhere to the storage of cell-molecules, like Velcro fasteners or magnets. After forty, big harvesting begins; Thus, who tries to collect the fruit that was deserved in the way of serving crickets, or even enthusiastic ants, even what they thought could be sacrificed.

Coincidents were hanging on robbery chains, as they could have been able to stand the day -to -day pressure differences, which would have been good to compensate. The signs of life are already reflected in vain by the witnessed footprints, and the earthworms are furthermen, who are aware of the more true significance of the floods.

A thin clearing gap between our crowded feelings is increasingly rarely attacking; Secret, guessing Vates movements only rarely sing. Wherever you go, you are surrounded by obstacles, bad, unobtrusive fences everywhere in your life, which you may not be able to get rid of.

The unprotected victims dance at the edges of the gaps; Thick anniversary rings hiding in the year -rounds still hide the values ​​of our mortality. Time now, with increasingly uncertain charge, click-and-tongue in the century! - Anti -falsifying dazzles play with the diodes of the inner vocals that can be used, which we may even forget to show ourselves.

The hope of returning is still under the surface, but there is no one who finds it, holds it, comfort it with sincere, fearful will, and wants to take care!

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!