BECAUSE NOTHING IS RIGHT

Life is often one continuous expanse; with few happy-sad melodies, and even less joy. We make mistakes in everything, or we just miss the ramp imposed on us; we drive along the path of unattainable dreams of luxury, which - nice as it is - will never come to anything, then we cheat on the prostitute's muse. Because there's nothing here anymore, whoever is "honest and humane" and doesn't steal other people's property, his undying romance burns in his heart like dirt, he would try to wriggle out of the captivity of the abyss-heaps, but his soul is still infected.

It will pay the price with interest, who only wants honest-true friendship alliances, where it doesn't matter who beats whom?! The one who devotes his whole life to going to his miserable job smelling of starvation wages and humbly putting up with all the rubbish of his sociopathic director boss all day long, like a whining automatic robot, can't do better. you can also throw it out under smoke. He searches in confusion, then fishes, in which there are several Alamusi plans, how to get bald, to beat others; he can only tolerate the condolence he tolerates with a gnashing of teeth.

Whoever curses or curses anyone, buries himself in uncontrollable tears, as if he is already clinging to the conscious lack, because the false reason extinguishes the creative flames of common sense and free thought on the basis of "it doesn't matter". - Man is now scrambling, even a stupid, senseless animal; he squats for pennies, and give up on such basic things as, say, love, relationships, children, because he will be torn apart by a hundred kinds of will.