HUMAN-STARS

You don't need to wait for a ready-made home juggler. From the light palm of hobby-critics, the award-winners made the old-fashioned liking-selfishness - if they don't even know what it means - innovation, development, as an avant-garde performance.

There are more and more brainwashed clamoring demands, and if you can't do anything else, save your manuscripts in time-resistant formats digitally, just in case this unworthy posterity of today recognizes it.

Don't believe that the lyric is simple logic, just like the twisted, complicated mathematics. The changing, harsh Time - beware - sweeps without question along the gentle fields of the soul exchange rate.

Your imagined, idyllic dreams are being measured by your dishonest slave ship bosses in diligent but futile overtime, in nerve-wracking situations - you would still be attached to somewhere where you might still be respected in a dignified manner. Neither the board of directors nor the society of learned literary historians value your work, calling it a useless pile of trash to be thrown away.

You may have known for a long time: what the hell, it's been a long time. And you are neither an Alpha nor an Omega guide. The malleable, rich, slanged language, like the heavy plastic, has taken root at the brutal level of swear words everywhere, and it is only possible to stop at a single point at the very end of certain slopes.

You can't even extend it to infinite circles, and you can't talk about the intoxicating beauties of the Universe. Circles of latticed cages squeeze you and sometimes even suffocate you if you're not careful and you don't have any more food to fry; the loving nickname of your feverish stuttering sentences that used to be a sure refuge and comfort, peaceful relief, will sooner be disintegrated into a part of the obscure past by the Dear One! Human-stars guard your adversarial words!