unfamilyar


Have you ever been disturbed by the topics?

Have you ever rushed into the feelings flow over so that you can't resist by typing in a pace that no one can catch?

Have you ever kept your words behind just because you care the most?

Ah brother.

ah brother. all these questions.

Have you ever changed the venues and felt miserably past?

Have you ever accused and pointed towards and pressured against same fucking society's way of living it?

Have you ever been afraid the most and couldn't resist writing lightning bolts?

Weren't they the ones who were trying to route towards –?.

Have you ever felt so adventurous and got frozen at the same night-over?

Have you ever felt so further away but hold to a dying light?



Feeling the questions in the asynchronous universes. One writes lines ahead and one thinks lines before. How come reality could be so diverged and so close at the same time.

Oh brother.

Have you been felt that –(adj)?

Lexical analyses at one hand, million years before at another. Remembering the venues, city halls, memories just with a feeling of smell. Smell of the voices and instruments. and tunes. and signals. and observations through the observer.

How come ever –.



The more shared, the more felting alone. Felling over the earthquakes still holding to an unbalanced goodness. The more I listen, the more I get to listen.

Getting fuc*ing tired of the ames.

ames that looses their seventh voices. Okay, okay, okay.



Now that you are here with me, listening over. I can start it all over again, stop as if nothing happened, observe as if I am child, pretend as if nothing was heard, see as if nothing was there, triples, optimizations, reusability and more over.

Sometimes the creator reaches by, other times the creator reaches by. As if you test all over the universe at once and always. So quickly fucking amazing that just lived by the last seconds can fake this qucik.

Randomly permuted things, things which were defined to be the way,

All lying towards the next character which is not a one. Cos its just a basic game. Her e how it is played.

First you see the rain, then the clouds, then the routines which follows one another by the miliseconds to go forwards against basically anything that may happened in that morning just to make you reach to the shiny, polished, attracting regularified routines. Routines which are sometimes remotely procedured, some times mindly blown.

Have you ever kept track of things?

Those are the moments when your last register still operational and still is –.

Whatsoever, here is the thing there is another. Couple of guys pretending, they know, they feel, they been shared.

Sharing has never been this .Tokyo. miserably valued. You exchange the words in a sentence across languages trying to expose a sentence and basically the darkness keps you to the beginning and then you stop.



Thanks. Exhale, and blinking.

So then comes the northern. Which has the most –. Censorship right. I love it. You are banned from consuming and then expressing it. That's the way to embrace the current society. Isn't it? Just because you not falling towards their – – – – – – – – – –. I really like it because its incredible. How incredible to feel and not feel at the same time.

Have you ever felt that southern brother?

Been zie ooit gespeeld?

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