There are a mass of people that like to prefer the notion that competition is bad, such a coiled thought strikes with despotism. There are even more people whom, with very few facts and even fewer recognitions of true success, these alarmists and fascists like to generalize by saying that trickle-down economics does not work, and for them I have a question. If such is true, then why give money to government?
Without adoration, the union forms the love of itself, confusion is itself habitual.
Existence flies extricate, and many times I see how it stops some without having the possibility to continue, nor apprehend those desires, what years and years expelled behind themselves. A truly chaos is that which I see from eccentricity. I see the perfect portrait, of the significance of the word perdition. All greys, all-so dark, and the daft multitudes belittle the import. I see waves that are smashing between thee, and strong torrents that nay cease, and simply, I see a photo, which securely never painter that can paint, nor ever painter dares to put his signature. The photo difficult of comprehension, a photo very antique, and that which will be guarded intact many eras more. I see a-many people between paintings of this image suffocating and drowning, searching for salvation of a life agonized. In this darkness is very difficult distinguishing between friend and enemy, between good and evil. In this darkness it is easy to be lost and confusion is itself habitual.