...the memories of the communism, of the dictatorship, in the cult of the fear, are sealing the lips, are petrifying the facial muscles, are ripping the soul, while the howl of the reality is locking the lungs with the padlock of anxiety, using the key of manipulation, attired in military boots; ...people are stuck in a profound disgust of what the hell happens;   ...suddenly, everybody feels censored, just to not hear and see each other's truth, right in the most crucial point; even AI knows; ... the view of a high percentage, promoted nowadays, it's the war, it's the fascism, it's the antisemitism, it's a voice that's not mine or yours, but of someone which with others are using it as if it is; ...entire communities are threatened with all the catastrophic effects that even the imagination is too damn afraid to imagine about; ...a manifestation of the hate, disapproves human attributes, alimenting the souls with an aching pain just to suffer repeatedly; ...the...

in the sanctity of meticulously dreams, meant to fracture the loneliness, nicely triggered by some beloved memories, you're labeled as the addict i play with • on the pavement of whispers, absently, your team of longing takes a little walk and whistles in my pulsation's rhythms, just as once, when we staged our ritual • i'm a she or her world as a love's tenant lured in a sly game, bizarrely transparent in a situationship without situationship inspired by an effect without final effect • scratches' traces mapped by my scars, percolated your charm to others' charm as i exposed you as a fabricated oddity using algorithms that cheat algorithms • my innate style is an aberrant architect, nonchalantly negotiating any limitation, just to pacify your mind, for isn't a gaffe if you feel explicit thrill due to my mood