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A long time ago… Nothing else matters! It was once a shiny noon, and the sun was shining over the seas. Walking, but nearly running, and he would have stolen the next food, even as he was falling asleep. “No food. Sugar.”, and that’s, what he thought for himself. The heart stroke would be next, but he yelled again: “No food. Sugar.”. So he was in reign of the streets over Italy. Visiting this and that meant to him, that he would catch the next trains of support. Instead of metres he walked kilometres, even if he didn’t feel himself starving and dying of thirst. “So. Look over the moon side of all the blind fallen. He is caught by the fallen eye, chatting a little bit with me.”, and he, the runner, was named by parents as St. Kruel but his own life called him by the moon despising Anastacia. “What a wonderful name? Did you get it by friends?”, but so he told, “No. The moon was whispering into my ears.”, “The moon. Look! All the other kids want to know, what the moon has told.”, “Me. I don’t want to listen.”, “The moon was telling yesterday, that there is sitting godgoddess on himself.”, said another kid. So. St. Kruel was telling something else, but he minded the caught teacher: “He, TokTokTok, was sitting in my room and whispered and laughed like an crazy Arab. That one, shout out, like these of the Necronomicon. The city of dead. The name of the dead. The death scrolls. What out. Like the devilish smile of Magic would sit on the shoulder of parents. Aren’t they here now? Be a miraculous moment of thought. You just say. Penitenzie Agite. Smile of the poor but smile of the mob. You walk in hunger and thirst. Tell the moon. What is your name? St. Kruel. I tell. You are Anastacia. Be at right to sit in front of the church and move the sun rise into the evening. What else to do? Dead. Dead. Dead. Penitenzie Agite. Right on the moon. The slip of waking the crowd of legion. What has to come over the mankind? Isn’t it wrong, to take a nap in school. What else did the semiotics and articulation tell. “I hope you I. Alone you are best.”, but by the moon, he has a moist heart in fear. Did he come to see the moon walking beneath the feet? You win the reign on heaven beside, but you walk over the tree of chances. He is the sun. He is the life. Penitenzie Agite. On the 3 rd day from the year on, but he will get back to the beginning. Just a luddite and a chartist. Make the sun go on but hope escaping the clouds. Who is sitting in the chambers alone? The philosophy to come around in the sun but who did you do well? ESTP. What a kind of light, but what a terrific life. Catch the moon. In the sea is something hidden for all of you. You just need to take the head under the sun. You are talking about the right of making happiness a real better life.”, told St. Kruel (Quelle: Alle unter einem Dach; Filmserie; USA;& Der Name der Rose; Buch; Eco;& Film;& Necronomicon; by itself).

 

“Anastacia. Do your homework. But do it quietly as the right of making an ongoing sitting place a bed for one.”, but Anastacia didn’t walk along streets for giving a dime on homework. “How else is life obtainable?”, But the sun said to her. Like a godgoddes takes a nap, but as the wolves screams tears. It isn’t as the miserable life, but from the beginning on, Anastacia was a different kind of a kid. By the quest of the dead man’s locker, he was quitting from beginning on. It was like a changing mind, but there have been maps on scrolls. All of the land was watched by these. From the beginning to the end was the life a museum of philosophy. The sun shined, and she was telling around the circles of homework, what else could be done for Anastacia: “Be a winner. Be an one. Be the first. Be the best.”, but lost in time and in space, all of the crowd was thinking, that this kid would lead us to another fraction.

 

What a humble and monotone thought of sipping world peace without the ground of the glass. He was just thrilled of getting a chance of thought, education, and work. See at another people with the thought of being an example for life. He was just a smile of a hell like horses to steal. “Run. Run like the horses.”, and that was named by the twinky-winky Kobold. He was just another Teletubbie. So the sun spoke again but silenced immediately.

 

“Doing the homework is never funny.”, “But you have to do.”, was spoken. “Right this. Right them. Right back.”, was the callers mourning of today’s supper. “Right this. Right them. Right back.”, as whenever a soldier was told of becoming calm, he would have answered. “Yes. Sir.”, but that is the mind of Descarte’s Body-Soul-Dualism (Quelle: wikipedia.de; Hg. Wales; Stand: 2015-2016). If he would have thought, but the right sir, is at any time lost time in space. Could someone else have thought for him: “Like you. Everyone would disappear in the field of mourning lizards.”, was the given choice: “No Sir. No Sir. Right I’m an in the field to kill, but how shall I call my numbers of comrades not being laid alone? By shots and fire I will have to call. Sir.”, “You are in the field without the hope of dying rightly alone?”, “No Sir. No Sir.”, “This would be the chance of being someone in right terms of the Army Choir.”, and something was turning on the Blue Light.

 

“Somehow. Everyone was hoping the best for them. I’m one of them, and I’m still young in my heart.”, and I was thinking about the crowd.

 

Poetikrose – Scherzerade

 

Lemming Tschoubie

Montag, 23. Juli 2018

 
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