kitch, social sciences, thriller

The moon in my calendar is circling quicker than the wings of the dove behind my window.
Sugar waffles for a soul that is capable to utter little screams only.
Why dance like a ballerina if public space is moving towards an ice age?
A flash mob in a No Man's space waiting to disappear like the pillows of the raspberry in the hands of a child
A space where  success belongs to those who know how to delay gratification in a world where supplements for love are available at every corner.
Let me find that tunnel which leads back to the beginning of the words, the beginning of feelings, back to that lake of perfect silence.

PS: tracking the following kitch terms: ballerina, raspberry, moon, dove, feeling, silence, love, window, wings, sugar 
tracking the following social sciences vocabulary: public space, gratification
tracking the following thriller genre terms: screams, disappear, corner, perfect, hands of a child, tunnel