who stares into the net, who is among people who stare into the net, who only has his regular newspapers, magazines and broadcasts reads and hears, knows, there are no more descendants, it only filters help, archives, and eventually forget. And who these days wants to be aware, the encounters with the information accessible and the accompanying question pair. I leave myself to one? What do I do that? Visible information, whether voluntarily or not demand a response to their presence - and that includes from the one who wants her to discard only, nothing more than a Tate, an effort. The Gehüpfe my company is very well understood. The chatterbox, which affected the world has come in the form of a mad become Robin Hoods, therefore, of any information on the picks and he stumbles away to the rich, but also to the poor and the dead, then all the creep out of their palaces and tombs and alleys to somehow to deal with it. And as they crawl out of their palaces and tombs and alleys, the wind sometimes closes a door behind them and then come around kings not to go to cabins, septic in palaces and many a dead man in a new life. So play like before our eyes, this miracle, they moisten our parched faith with the sacred water of progress. And as our all progress, is also this one, to a Art by God. Until his feet until they touch our lips and we kiss into the void. My company is dancing so in the electric light ahead of the saving soulless, opens the eyes, ears, mouth, nose, buttocks and makes what hue to occur - with abandon, but no, not without it to evaluate it, not without to draw conclusions, not without reason not to act on the mental addition, and no, not to flutter like flags without the hurricane, focusing on resolving the ends.
And the barren heaths, roll like the hedgehog?
They have to contend with the fact that if harnessed, they have to their bodies with each impacting information again in the will to defeat it, defend it and those morsels which they love and shiny seem, and as they are then contrite open a gap far, they shall be stoned. As the flag flutters in it, will roll the rolled up hedgehogs out from the wind and as he presses his face into his belly, painted his head off, what happens outside of it. It differs as the seeing of the blind to enter the luxury provided by images of the world with information, rather than homemade. But we do know it but do not want to see: only the best are doing at home, it tastes really good. On the other hand, chokes you, too happy on behalf of gay dogma.
But what now? What to do?
If my company is a whore, I want to be a castrato, and yet when it comes to perverts, and I still refuse her, then this should be no end, on the contrary, an act it has to be: It is the walk to the basement. And where there is none, as it is dug. Thus one encounters perhaps to mate.
