What a colorful life

Where to look at on that endless paved road, everything is flipping fast, a blend of dripping colors, and cardboard sounds made by a time machine, in that alternative world blood is absorbed by the walls and the carpet, angry magicians pull their eyes out in over concentration, women run dressed in tiny and crude linen cloths, that can be ripped off by a swinging claw, those women are uncanny and boobs are plethora, shown proudly in the face of passerbies and tentacular monsters, comming fast from the city streets or in barren landscape, all sirens roaring, do you believe pathetic robots are transforming into incongruous contraptions, getting out of spaceships to vaporize humans in a blast of a reddish beam fired from their heads, and they dare giving advice, believing strongly they are here to help to prevent earth destruction, people are speaking to you from a far away place, gesticulating and swearing and crouching and falling, their faces decomposing scene after scene and their grins growing fatter and more horrendous than the profits they plea to make, more horrendous than their productions, again monsters are huge or in plastic with undefined lines, drool oozing out of their livid skin, horns pointing on their backs and feet, they spit magma, they growl like hellhounds, they vow to destruction and death, turning humans into disgusting zombies at a simple touch of their filthy nails, and they enjoy it, we can see it in the glowing slot that is their eyes, and there is also in that world an attempt at philosophy, we, humans have to influence others to get what we desire, is reciting a decrepit geezer waving his arms above a lectern, i don't agree, i don't agree and i'm delighted, putting back in their graves the praised undisputable men, oh we can decide to listen to our desires and disclose it without imposing and knowing for a fact that whatever others think or also desire we will at last find some to share the entirety of our consciousness, it's a matter of helping each others without expectation, go back to your school teacher my friend and carry with you all the bemused and bored students on that prestigious class, and now we see the delicacy of japanese girls experiencing the first thrill, the need to love, the first lick, and the disapointment of youth, your skirts are just neat and your beaches deserted, it makes me want to wander beating by the wind on that clinical field, like and offering, then fists are thrown around, legs twirl in the air, graceful choreographies, breaking bones, and bruising muscles, making noses bleed, victims are hitting the floor, an axe in their chests or in the exact center of their brows, thinkers talk of their childhood, playing in the hay and walking in the mud without boots, bearing the wrath of angry fellows, the slaps of fathers and priests, and retreating in a self made shell, that's how you grow to write a book, that world is gory, it is lustful, it is drawn poorly and sometimes with real feelings, that world is smart and piling up facts, science and history, and the dumbest ideas or theories, we can laugh, we can cry, we can evolve and learn, we can crave, what a colorful, what a wonderful life!