Just Rambling: an experiment

Ha, but now is just words. I.e., the mask and misdirections. Round 7 on Saturday night, for this afternoon to myself, to go out and have a few friends ... I do not want to go. I know that my life is incomprehensible. I, sir -- the sale of shopping, and browsing through books, and can eat any food bank and control of the court - incomprehensible hand, or pass to their children, or the promise of one. Is the connection of any kind. Something, just, and open his own, and the stagnation and corruption of the human eye, freedom of expression and communication to eliminate the stress of the situation and are working to create a solution to exit 12. But why worry about. The world as we know, we really know what happened.

[English to Arabic to Finnish to Korean to Spanish to English. The original:]

But it's just words now. Words and masks and misdirections. Tonight is a Saturday night, and round about seven o'clock I thought to myself that I'd like to go out and hang with some friends. But I don't have that sort of life. I could go walk through a mall, browse in a bookstore, eat something in some food court and watch the passersby, holding hands or ushering their children or just moving to some singular goal. It would be a sort of connection. I could try to make something happen, open up, loosen up, let go, unbind myself, unwind, remove the passive and impassive expression and make eye contact with humanity. But why bother. We know what the world is because we know what has already happened.

Faith. Now in my imagination, and I can not see a way. Neglected for many years, even more, very much in the background, so I'm color blind, society underground, creatures out for unfair man. It's just a feeling. But I can feel it. All God? Or to defend -- your people can say that. I nevím. I saved him. It is good to. Not offered in the form of suicide as high. It is God, when you, mental-- fragility is necessary to monitor and where they want to save the world and is in the temple Házi you try. Then we have an incomplete tower, incomplete, the list does not change, and ethnic, and insects, for the death of idiots, and only God can save them to me.

[English to Vietnamese to Slovak to Norwegian to Hindi to English. The original:]

Faith. The failure of my own imagination now, and I can't see a way out. Too many years, too much neglect, too much hiding, so I'm a pale blind subterranean creature now, unsuited for human companionship. It's only a feeling. But it's how I feel. Does God rescue anyone? Or does he require people to do his rescuing. I don't know. I've rescued people. It's a good thing to do. Not so much a suicide as a noble self-sacrifice. It must be pleasing to God, if he will overlook the cowardice and brittleness that ensues, when the rescue attempt fails and the world throws its temple at you. Then again, unfinished towers make us a laughing stock, and unfinished races bring no glory, and this body of death creeps with maggots and only God can rescue us.

I write this, there is none now. Oh, plus Jack H spinning his wheels. I want to write about his politics. Sorry imaginary companion. This particular mask, but it is distorted, is very near the end. I just tried to share, my skin, breathe. Not this time -- was covered with worms, and others, but not blood, then my real face.

It is very nice.

[English to Chinese to Italian to Bulgarian to Filipino to English. The original:]

I write this expecting that no one gets this far. Oh, just more of Jack H spinning his wheels. I like it when he writes about politics. Sorry, imaginary companion. This particular mask, ugly though it is, is very near the last one. I'm just trying to let my skin breathe. There's this one, the one that's covered with maggots, another one that's nothing but blood, and then my real face.

It's quite beautiful.


J