LOADED LAYER CONSCIOUSNESS

Even now, like stray shadows that have become smileless, the years are gathering in the furrows of our faces, the innermost, conscious fears are stuck in our throats, which we have consciously tried to destroy in the darkest recesses of our souls; torments, tragedies, hand-to-hand betrayals all follow us like increasingly insidious raids. Let's throw away, like the clothes that have started to fall apart, our petty secrets that seem more fearful.

It would be good to put your useless worries and troubles in the corner for at least a few hours, days, or years, so that they don't even accidentally tempt you on a permanent basis. We are increasingly trying to prove that the final settlement may not be delayed soon. The uncontrollable temper also flares up, because he cannot know what to expect from a more complicated, risky life situation; In the dawn of agonizing days, we should now watch over our own sound judgment with watchful eyes, which should never be guided by anger, rage, or passion.

We lack the angelic comforting nickname, which with the holy will power of tenderness could indeed drive away the enigma essences of the wild, wild encroaching hopelessness over our heads. The hope of conscious, repressed, trembling worry regularly falls back between the double spiral walls of the Soul, and from there it no longer releases the rogue will that plays games of chance for survival. Our years thicken, like the sad Anyegin snowflakes in the wind, As if Being is constantly picking up its innocent victims. Now we would even more like to account for all deliberately missed greetings, unsaid, romantic compliments, flirtatious dialogues of secret eyes, which now have no meaning and perhaps never really can. It would certainly be nice to survive the frenzied music frenzy that is cursing all around us!