prediction [Theme] Page 6

Astrologers are smart enough to make their predictions so vague that they can be attributed to any outcome.

I never look at ourselves, things I hate, I don't even like that I had my palm read. There were cases when I said, "Sure, go see so-and-so - it is very accurate". But honestly, it scares me. I want to learn everything myself. It would be very boring to know what should happen to me, because then I would have all my life spent trying to avoid it.

- You're taking them, right?
- Yes, I want to put them up for sale in his gallery, the money we will be able to clean your brains in a rehabilitation center.
- I will not go to the center...
I found your whole supply of heroin, drugs... I'm all flushed.
How am I supposed to paint the future?
- Nobody can paint the future! That's the drugs!
- Look around you at all these paintings! Each of them has come true...
Ha. And this is one of them? That big one on the floor, "new York city after an atomic explosion"?
Yes.

- Arise, and vizhd, and give ear... Oh, I don't like prophets and fortune tellers! How to blurt out anything in your address and then you walk like a fool, thinking about what he had in mind. Sometimes such fears themselves head and share, but actually complete nonsense ugh, not worth the attention!

Will throw up a plume of rainbow light,
And flame to the heavens in a crazy dance
Will break the earth will be moaning.
Everything will turn to absolute evil
In the radiance of the scarlet shower of distant ancestors.

Demons run when a good man goes to war.
Night will fall and drown the sun
When a good man goes to war.
Friendship dies and true love lies.
Night will fall and the dark will rise
When a good man goes to war.
Demons run, but count the cost.
The battle's won, but the child is lost.
Demons run when a good man goes to war.
Night comes, banishing the sun away,
When a good man goes to war.
Friendship does not count, but love is lying.
The night comes and darkness is coming,
When a good man goes to war.
Demons run, so the price is measured.
The battle is won but the child is lost.

There are three types of forecasts:
A prediction of what everyone wants. To get your hopes up.
The prediction that nobody wants. To frighten.
And prediction of what will actually be. That all laugh.

I asked the cuckoo
How many years I will live...
The pines quivered tops,
A yellow beam fell into the grass.
But there was no sound in most of fresh
I'm coming home
And the cool breeze pampers
My forehead hot.

Prediction is a two-edged sword.

I'm sitting in a Laundromat and reading about myself sitting in a Laundromat reading about myself sitting in a Laundromat. Now my brain will burst.