VERTICAL-WORLD

Now there is still a lying, calculating interest, just like a promise, a word of honor; the whispering blessing of Autumn is nicknamed by my blind, squinting eyes. It can be half past four in the morning, and in the crouching wind-dark, my restless soul is only responsible for the clicking noise of freight trains: Do you hear? You are a prisoner! That's what it clicks! "- Now the beauty is falling on each other, and jerk, no-nonsense, stuttering dirt. My quiet pleasures, if they were, did not open the seven-seal padlock in the narrowing sky of my uncertain future.

The self-reliant, squinting soul, though it feels its selfish loss, tolerates it more and more, steps, searches blindly: Can cultured communication be fading and reassuring with two gorilla bodies, between a hazelnut-brain security guard who is only willing to let certain people into the theater, between the crowded, mass-screaming walls of nightclubs, while deliberately looking down on the simple job prolite! And while I take my shadow on myself like a junk coat with quiet, broken humility and leave, some no-nonsense pus frater is already jokingly laughing well! ,, Look at this cattle! He bowed to the chicks!"

I measure myself on my scales and although my ton-weight hardly changes in the unchanging cave depths of the Spirit, you are viscerally afraid and terrified. "I don't know if I can find Someone between Beginning and End, but it would be good as soon as possible. I feel like I could barely stay just twenty-two and a half years!