FATE IF IT BLOWS

Do you see Dear! Out of this current raiding darkness, below the water level of our dreary time, only restless, sole-licking molehills have been visible for a long time. A prisoner in a Prius, thrown out of a gradually deepening visceral space, like a prison cell, staggers out among the people for another dead-tired, promising working day.

They can barely guess and know whether the brainwashed darkness that dumbs down the people is the conscious one, or is it just one or two false-mouthed unwelcome provocateurs who try to maneuver against the wind like a stubborn dafke-idiot, while others are miserable?! It is as if the understanding, the musty candlelight of free thought, is already consciously burning in everyone; the mundane, blind darkness of our manipulable subconsciousness surrounds everyone; would this be the extent of the are and the should be?!

Because conscious question-answers - he is afraid - can no longer be rolled back. The inner psychological speech, like a petal, sooner or later breaks down into its flowers. From the depths of time, the feeling of statelessness and alienation seasoned with disfavor rises up from time to time, when family members no longer matter, but rather wax dolls. Someone deliberately sawed off the ladders of understanding as degrees, so that the average person would no longer dream of dream careers or well-deserved salaries! What kind of stupid talk is this?! In the rear-view mirror, it is as if every wax-face flashes back and calls you into question!

I would like one thing Dear! Wherever you take your toddler, the diligent step of your angelic feet, NEVER change in the most important things!