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!

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?!

The millions of life, a manipulated life, and a finger pushes the countless small -style, bustling worms that are unnoticed in people's cells; Doubtful, nobody's house bargainers - perhaps they rarely notice themselves - open unnoticed, and even the dense, rich amber indaire surround the bribed life.

Because now many are in a way that they would rather intentionally leave themselves to be disinfected; They adhere to layers and layers of alamus, while scars, seams, and old stigma halves lied to healing. Now everyone has been reset, at most, just not those who are puffing on the top of a certain peak of a certain untouchable social pyramid, cruising on snow -white yachts.

Behind seeing eyelids can open gaps that only listen to the deceased heart alone: ​​are you with me or just against me?! - Crystal clear emotions seeking sincerity, openness, tolerance are silently and fast - if they were at all - and anyone who could have been on the open street who had finally collapsed at the corner of a bus stop ...

A lounged Fecalia roller with his legs with his feet, a derailed man-life, and he can't understand how, and how he could now get a bread in the pig mud and connect some everyday snacks. - There are always cracks between the crease of silence if the real essence is not recognized early!

The sensation of one's vitality
is the doorway to a deeper understanding
of exquisite inner joys
and the tranquility of being.