FAKE-DISTORTED PROPERTIES

Is it the gene, or the compromising, manipulative consciousness that is ready to shape itself, that is ready to encourage the frail man to make the irrevocable decision that: survival is the only guarantee of existence, one way or the other?! They caw, like ravens, in their cynical single-mindedness, when tolerance and humility blow away everything. Rather, it is communal selfishness, which now quietly lurks in the hearts that have been sold.

It is a well-deserved, independent release from the shackles of interests - rarely, if possible - because sooner or later, someone will destroy it on purpose, without considering the painful consequences. One can rarely hold on to the trick of the uncertain Future; in it, actions are teetering with hesitant steps, non-existent chances at the same time. For many centuries to come, it seems, we have to wait until new generations are born and pass away.

Hangman Time is now increasingly selecting and categorizing; who can say who and how much you tasted?! Distorted superstition, halfway between the nesting of common sense, if he pauses once in a while to reflect on his selfish, tyrannical will, there will be a fleeting moment when he realizes that he has made a mistake and does not compromise on his responsibility. Sooner or later, Torz's memory will just fall asleep, dirty lands will open like the petals of Kharübdisz ditch. Discernment, a well-considered ratio have become a commodity, and although - it is true - more and more people are paying for diplomas, it is still not certain that they will always recognize their true value.

For those who still rebel, the conscious spleen-sorrow is becoming more and more homely and comfortable; because only in death can the heroes on the stocks, on duty, or occasional heroes be truly equal or familiar. Whether we are a single-use element, we are consciously created, we exist in the Universe, while balancing halfway between the Beginning and the End...