The distance of a youth is only the distance of a tube of cocaine. In our embarrassing age of green and yellow, we can't see what we can see, and we can't stop talking about it. We squander the blood of rebellion flowing in our bones to give this unrest. Playing more unsettled notes in the space, but begging to the Almighty God with a smiling face all day long, irrevocably becoming a moth in the pillars and a dung machine in the society.
The distance of a youth is only the distance of a pipe of cocaine. In our embarrassing age of green and yellow, there is no independence to be independent, and there is no death to die. The taxation of the country we consume cannot create anything even a little sad. profit. We stay in the so-called factory of the soul, bearing half a deformed fruit and rotting beyond recognition.
The distance of a youth is only the distance of a tube of cocaine. In our embarrassing age, those who love life lose their lives, those who love revolution lose their lives, adults mourn and feel unfortunate, but they don’t know their children. A self-directed play was staged for them. . .
When we orgasm in this tube of cocaine, when we put on expensive suits and shiny leather shoes like dogs, when our tails bang our heads in search of life, when we ascend to immortals Convulsively reminiscing about our youth, what else can we use to pay homage to it?
What else can we use to honor it?
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