Book: Torn sky

Much need to hold the happiness that it has not slipped out of your hands so no one stole...

Beautiful should enjoy many. The real beauty in the safe to hide it.

My thoughts - the little men. They danced to the sounds of random melodies, trembling, fear of brutality, dying, losing a small yellow speck on the horizon. They rise again only when you whisper my worth only the lips, shrivelled and tangled in a dream, to pronounce a terrible curse, look to the new day. My little, naughty, stupid, running to the sunset men... They know nothing about life. They don't know what the attraction of the earth have power to resist which it is impossible that the music - the laughter of God, faith - light, money - all the air - shit! I think! I can still think! I can see the sky and break it into its component colors with one light pointing look. If I want my little men will rush there in the distance. I think, therefore I run!

... to run longer, you need to understand, to understand, and then come what may.

We must love each other, hand to touch will find the right now the truth - there is someone who needs your warmth, and so want this heat to give!
- Take it! It's yours!