nikne

It's not yet silence spreading in the wind, I still notice passers-by. I'm waiting. I observe, can still see anything, admire. I haven't yet learn not to move, not to brush off what is capable of being mirror-like.

The bell is ringing. Do you hear? Acutely. Sound separated one from another is penetrating, it signifies. Time. If you're beautiful, they'll hang you, and will be admiring you then. If you're tasty, they'll eat you. You. The beginning - an opportunity for realization. To look and see wrinkles of senility on a wall. To discern the joints of a tree, its already immobile limbs.

Hold yourself and don't allow yourself to tell, don't show yourself naked among the dressed. Just watch with paper-eyes, and remember. IT IS NOT ALLOWED. YOU MUST! GIVE! Then charged energy will fills you over, turns into a hit. From a cry out to the goal - metals of the thin sound.