in this wasteland

A idea go away,
A idea left on still,
A idea about impossible at all.
and I'm sick of how I’am boring.
I don't want to work at all.
I've worked so much in my life that
now I feel like everyone owe to me  .
when in fact it's the opposite.
I owe everybody.
how a Siberian convict robber
was left at the end of his life with only a wheelbarrow chained to his leg.

Well, I wouldn't say that these are the first signs of maturity, or of some age, that would be too simple.
At what point, convict, was the wheelbarrow chained to your leg?

Are we busy building pyramids? And hauling blocks for sphinxes in wheelbarrows? Oh, my God!
And who are the pyramids for? We are modern people. There never exist any other people.

Sitting and plucking writers and poets like chickens seems like a worthy occupation, doesn't it?
I forgot all the foreign words 50 times and that's all I can think of.

Well, I wanted to leave and told him that I needed to get married urgently for that. And he complained that I had a selfish interest in a romantic acquaintance.
Not smart, not handsome, not kind - the whole package. And he refused to win a million.
Well, of course, a stupid mattress.
What kind of other interest can you represent and for whom? My imagination is immeasurable but I can't imagine it.

quieter than Ouija I ring the thought, in this wasteland, I have a metal detector.
there is nothing here.

in this wasteland? I can continue the sentence, do you want?
have you plucked all the writers already like chickens? now you can probably fry their carcasses.

I'm sorry, man is a product of culture.
guinea pig Chili is the standard Mowgli she is so cute, but it is laughter in the dark in the end.

stop the profanation.
I can't comedy is my calling at all.
let's go Charles, they don't understand us.