The horrors of the last century, the masses and their heroes -- the Internet is nothing short of the continuation of this revolt. Everything original, talented will be burried under the nonsense generated by millions. No way out? The connection, not the content matters. The chat over text. And I, as always, is working for what is against me! A servant of the master, the crowd, "webmaster"!
Madman, do you think in a thousand years they will enjoy Mozart? Fool, the enemy of man is men. Yes, the people. Isn't that story abvious after two millenniums of repeting it? They killed the Creator of Life, they are suicidal!
Each of them, in his solitute?
The spark of God in his heart... no? Never? Not enough?
And the evil is to stay with us -- Them.
Am I missing something about the Years of the Holy Ghost?
But they are so close, they are your relatives... Write -- and read the Antohins The Generations
I can say "miracle" -- a woman, a child, a friend, a sun... Miracle is the break of universal rules. I say -- miracle, the very chance of meeting another soul. Wonder. The rest is war.
Now and forever.
You don't believe it?
I know, you don't.
That is your problem. Who can you believe, if you don't believe yourself?
Oh, go write it in Russian, weak heart! [I switch the language in order not to be understood.]
Croll back into darkness. No hope for you.
"Them" is you.
Posted by afronord
at 1:30 PM YDT
Updated: Thursday, July 28, 2005 9:39 PM YDT