My thought in News Line Our daily to see a what we call the constant routine never ends. Bystanders with "endless expression" walking in a roundabout life. Earth is aging. The opposition innovations remain to this day and sudden sinking like a stone in water. Plop, you went! Revolt fist as it sees no one. Desire figs in another dimension pregnant and trying to struggle to find it. Criticism of time left and you made your sludge suffers the sense that life originated. (Generalization of the timing yourself). Be wrapped around him laugh, and mock emptiness of life. Water without end. I neglected to ask forget continuity. But a more sinister whispers pierces into the unknown. To run away (rrokopujthi) straight to hell and there to my despair conceived as hope for the future. Time will pass. Handful revolt takes place and there conceived (form) my time. The denying of the unknown pushed his existence as there is recognition, in a formation almost new. The hero disinformation, become the impetus for a closed mindset. There you can find "it" (self) to give more coherence sure not to be the Achilles Foot, but acceptable desire without sacrificing the compact size of reason "first impulse". What makes me happy. Ultimately, these are, unwanted in our ideals in society. Will seek personal happiness, where there will be no one dare enter. I'll let my ego self as a necessary good, to do what I call "my work" Envy has taken place everywhere, and walking through the paths of everyone's soul is made insurmountable. I now suddenly have remained in stalemate The life I live and I see myself ugly impossible. The beauty of life has other colors. I want to go there. Did and there will be "my work"? Then I will reform a more narrow path where not find one. And if someone tries to make oil company, to pollute everyone and everything ....... The continuity of life? Drastic ups and downs. At which point I sit at a stretch in the "I" and in time. To make my life observer. Who can have this key victory. Nobody. Little tired. I'll think again. Farewell, Old