In the Limelight

ти
с твоите движения
които оставят след тебе
следи
златисто-кафяви
и дълбоки
дълбоко
в тъмносиньото
на завесите
ти
в кутия от дърво и кадифе
се взираш в прожектора
и той в теб
и
ти
събаряш стени
чупиш стъклени завеси
докато
музиката се вкопчва в теб
и те движи
докато трае магията
ти
мълчиш
шепнеш
викаш
ти
и погледа ти
дълбоко-златисто-кафяв
ти
и гласът ти
ти
и завесите
ти
и светлината
ти
ти
ти
и
аз
някъде там
до пианото
слушам
и тихо
потъвам
към теб

If

If I were a swan, I'd be gone
If I were a train, I'd be late
And if I were a good man,
I'd talk with you
More often than I do

If I were asleep, I could dream
If I were afraid, I could hide
If I go insane, please don't put
Your wires in my brain

If I were the Moon, I'd be cool
If I were a rule, I would bend
If I were a good man, I'd understand
The spaces between friends

If I were alone, I would cry
And if I were with you, I'd be home and dry
And if I go insane,
Will you still let me join in with the game?

If I were a swan, I'd be gone
If I were a train, I'd be late again
If I were a good man,
I'd talk with you
More often than I do

Обзел ме е някакъв странен вид паника. Особено в момента. Но и по принцип.

Buried Alive

Take the time just to listen
When the voices screaming are much too loud
Take a look in the distance
Try and see it all

Chances are that you might find
That we share a common discomfort now
I feel I'm walking a fine line
Tell me only if it's real

Still I'm on my way
(On and on it goes)
Vacant hope to take

Hey!
I can't live in here for another day
Darkness has kept the light concealed
Grim as ever
Hold on to faith as I dig another grave
Meanwhile the mice endure the wheel
Real as ever
And it seems I've been buried alive

I walk the fields through the fire
Taking steps until I found solid ground
Followed dreams, reaching higher
Couldn't survive the fall

Much has changed since the last time
And I feel a little less certain now
You know I jumped at the first sign
Tell me only if it's real

Memories seem to fade
(On and on it goes)
Wash my view away

Hey!
I can't live in here for another day
Darkness has kept the light concealed
Grim as ever
Hold on to faith as I dig another grave
Meanwhile the mice endure the wheel
Real as ever
And I'm chained like a slave
Trapped in the dark
Slammed all the locks
Death calls my name
And it seems I've been buried alive

Take you down now
Burn it all out
Throw you all around
Get your fuckin' hands off me

What's it feel like?
Took the wrong route
Watch it fall apart
Now you're knockin' at the wrong gate

For you to pay the toll
A price for you alone
The only deal you'll find
I'll gladly take your soul

While it seems sick
Sober up quick
Psycho lunatic crushing you with
Hands of fate

Shame to find out
When it's too late
But you're all the same
Trapped inside, Inferno awaits

Evil thoughts can hide
I'll help release the mind
I'll peel away the skin
Release the dark within

This is now your life
Strike you from the light
This is now your life
Die, buried alive

Ами ако не бях...?

Първо всичко гореше, после всичко тлееше. Есента догаря. Само че есените догарят бавно, затова има още много време до зимата.
И после всичко имаше някакъв жълт оттенък като в онези сънища - дори небето и паважа. За момент даже се изплаших, че може би сънувам, защото не бях виждала нещо такова наяве. Не мислех, че наистина става. Но така си беше - жълто, или може би жълтеникаво, съвсем всичко. Като наложено върху всички други цветове. Още се чудя дали не е от мен, дали нещо не ми се е объркало с очите. Но мисля, че не, защото когато излязох навън, не беше жълто.
Даже беше синьо. Липсваше ми синьото небе, а рядко съм виждала по-синьо от тукашното. И имаше красиви облаци.
Чудех се на коя страна да гледам, винаги ми се случва, когато слънцето залязва. Все едно искам да видя всичко за последно, преди да стане тъмно и да не си личат цветовете. А те като за последно са още по-ярки.
За момент се зачудих да се обърна ли. Обърнах се. И в главата ми от само себе си изскочи, "Господи, ами ако не бях погледнала?"
Случва ми се за втори път днес. Ами ако не бях останала?
Вече става тъмно, малко по малко. Дните са от нещата, които умират най-красиво.

Октомври

небето се разпука като кестен
над кърваво-златистия парад
от листа по мокрия асфалт и тази есен.

дълбоки стъпки-белези в калта,
оставили в земята мимолетни рани,
се изпълниха с кръвта-вода.

и с тежък дъх на гнило и на дъжд
той долетя като червена птица,
прострял крилете си над всичко. изведнъж.

и в следващия миг светът си спомни
сред този пръв пронизващ маскарад на есента -
октомври. октомври. октомври.

Nobody Home?

I've got a little black book with my poems in
Got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in
When I'm a good dog
They sometimes throw me the bone in

I got elastic bands keepin' my shoes on
Got those swollen hand blues
I got thirteen channels of shit on the TV to choose from
I've got electric light

And I've got second sight
I got amazing powers of observation
And that is how I know, when I try to get through
On the telephone to you, there'll be nobody home

I've got the obligatory Hendrix perm and the inevitable pinhole burns
Now all down the front of my favorite satin shirt
I've got nicotine stains on my fingers, I've got a silver spoon on a chain
Got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains

I've got wild staring eyes
And I've got a strong urge to fly, but I got nowhere to fly to
Ooh, babe when I pick up the phone there is still nobody home
I've got a pair of Gohills boots and I got fading roots


no, he said. you could never get over it completely. it will always be there, no matter what you do and where you go.

so just don't lose it, don't get to the point where you have to start trying to get over it, i thought, and i picked up the phone.

"and that is how i know
when i try to get through
on the telephone to you
there'll be nobody home"

i needed to ask so many questions. still, i didn't have the courage to ask all of them. but i will because there is nobody else to answer them. however... so what if i have the answers? it changes nothing. it doesn't change the beeping signal of the phone or the quiet echo that lingers after the song is over, somewhere deep down inside, so deep that it feels like outside.

still i need answers, or at least i want answers, and anybody's answers won't do.

it seemed that he knew the reason behind every question, and that was strange... and it felt strangely fine, like a part of me doesn't really mind it. i guess it is so.

i feel like smashing the fucking phone against the wall. or smashing my fists against a tree, just like back then when we were kids. or simply smashing something.

or hugging someone. no matter who. someone who needs a hug and wouldn't mind getting it from me.

he didn't mind.

how did that happen?

and how did this happen?

what the fuck is happening?

no, i don't need help nor compassion. and no, i'm definitely not going back there. but no, i don't want to be the past. i don't want to be a bad memory. i want to be there. i want to keep my promise. i hate, hate, hate breaking promises. and i feel like i've broken some... and have to repair them.

can i?

i won't ask him that. this question is for me to answer.

he said it means to care enough to forget yourself, and to only observe and know, and understand. and accept. i added that last one... but i think he meant that too.

"when i try to get through
on the telephone to you
there'll be nobody home"

or maybe i'm not calling hard enough.

who cares about the fucking black book and elastic bands and what not anyway? this is a selfish song, but you don't feel it when you let yourself sink into it. and then you become selfish too. and that's not what he said the purpose is.

only if i could get one more answer. not from him, though.

Есен

И ето я вече, златна, красива, необратима и малко тъжна. Но слънцето е още тук, така че тъжното не се усеща. =)







П.П. Честит рожден ден, сестричке. =) Нека твоята есен да е много, много хубава. ^^

One

Is it getting better?
Or do you feel the same?
Will it make it easier on you now?
You got someone to blame

You say
One love
One life
When it's one need
In the night
One love
We get to share it
Leaves you baby if you
Don't care for it

Did I disappoint you?
Or leave a bad taste in your mouth?
You act like you never had love
And you want me to go without

Well it's
Too late
Tonight
To drag the past out into the light
We're one, but we're not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each other
One

Have you come here for forgiveness?
Have you come to raise the dead?
Have you come here to play Jesus
To the lepers in your head?

Did I ask too much?
More than a lot
You gave me nothing,
Now it's all I got

We're one, but we're not the same
Well we
Hurt each other
Then we do it again

You say
Love is a temple
Love - a higher law
Love is a temple
Love - the higher law
You ask me to enter
But then you make me crawl
And I can't keep holding on
To what you got
When all you've got is hurt

One love
One blood
One life
You got to do what you should
One life
With each other
Sisters, brothers
One life
But we're not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each other

One...
One...

Свободна

... И нека който грях не е извършил,
той пръв да хвърли камък върху нея.
Тя дала е, но не и свойта същност,
и от никого тя даром не е взела.
Живот на птица-скитница, летяла
към хоризонтите на толкова морета...
И по своя тежък път е спряла
само да погледа към небето.
Все още няма я тежащата умора
и нищо тя не носи на крилете си.
Все още мъничките земни хора
не могат да я стигнат със ръцете си.
Тя не е бягала, тя само е летяла.
И в нейните пера живее вятър.
Не е поискала да бъде снежнобяла,
затова изцапана е с цветове на лято.
Тя ще умре сама - като орлите,
последния си дъх поела в полет.
Но още, още дълго ще се скита
с живителния дъжд на всяка пролет,
и с неговите капки ще достигне
до малките криле на таз след нея.
Ще ги изцапа с цветна кал и ще надигне
перата в тях. И вечно ще живее.

Fear

I reached the conclusion that I am afraid of myself. That's the original reason for my phobia of being alone and being left. There is more to it, of course, but originally that's where it came from. I am afraid of myself, but I am not sure exactly why. Maybe I fear the things I might do, or what I might become. Or just what I am, deep down. This dark side I couldn't show even if I wanted to. It's too deep. Of course, that's a good thing because I wouldn't want it out. Still, I know it's there. Somewhere down there is that thing that makes me fear myself. And I don't like the fact of it being there. Maybe because it's not me. But the higher probability is that it's exactly me.

What is fear, anyway? Just a part of the fight-or-flight instinct? Probably. But isn't that just the physical kind of fear, meant to protect you? There is another type of fear, fear that is about fear itself and has nothing to do with the psychological alarm that tells you to run. I can't really describe this kind of fear, but I have felt it. Like when I lie without moving and it suddenly overcomes me for no actual reason and paralyzes me. I can't even tell what I'm afraid of. Could it be just myself again? Or is it just beyond my comprehension...

Forever

Forever is the one word that contains hope and despair. It contains all kinds of pain and every type of love (and they have a lot to do with each other sometimes). Forever. The true meaning of it is actually something unthinkable to a human being. It's just so much bigger than a human life or a human mind. A part of me wishes to grasp it, to feel it, to know it. But the other part is so afraid. If human beings weren't afraid of forever, would they be able to understand? Sometimes I fell like I have my own little forever inside of me, but I can't touch it or truly feel it. I think I could never see the true nature of it, even though there are times when I feel like I can.
Forever. I guess it's a concept too huge and complex to be fully understood - containing everything and nothing. Maybe it's something like an absolute state of mind: being, seeing and feeling everything, everywhere, any time. Having all the questions and all the answers (I could hardly imagine that). However, absolution means absolute loneliness... No. Aloneness.
The word 'forever' makes me think of infinite space and time, infinite being and infinite emptiness. Actually 'emptiness' is my first association. I'm not sure why exactly. Forever is supposed to contain everything. But it's also completely empty.
And I am afraid. There is so much more.

Freedom

Catch me if you can
I'm falling free
I am free
More than any man
Has been or will be

Didn't you know
concrete angels cannot fly?
You are free
Until you fall
How does it feel to die?

Let
me
go.

Моя есен

Целунах септември
и вдишах мъгла.
Есента се изсипа дъждовна,
а аз съм сама,
аз съм сама.

Септември ми даде
в очите дъжда -
аз исках да плача,
но нито сълза,
нито сълза.

Вятърът сряза
косата ми - тя
се разпръсна с листата.
А аз съм сама,
аз съм сама.

Целунах септември
и вдишах мъгла.
Над мене и в мене вали есента.
Но нито сълза.
Нито сълза.

I'll Be There

I heard the voice of redemption
For me there is no exemption
I started praying

I heard the voice of satisfaction
Needing me for benefaction
I started pleading

I heard the bells begin to chime
Warning me oh lord
Don't let this be my time
Don't let this be my time

I'll be there for you, when you walk through the fire
I'll be there for you, when the flames get higher
When nothing fits and nothing seems right
Till the very last breath of my life, I'll be there for you

You saw me slide, you saw me fall
We kept our pride through it all
We started screaming

When skies are dark, no sun shines through
I know I see the light in you
We stopped dreaming and started believing

I'll be there for you, when you walk through the fire
I'll be there for you, when the flames get higher
When nothing fits and nothing seems right
Till the very last breath of my life, I'll be there for you
I'll be there

In my hour of need
You were there always
Now it's time for me to be there for you too
Always

I'll be there for you


"This is your song, don't ever forget it."
Dead sure I won't.

Лято в буркан за зимата

Това е моето лято, такова, каквото искам да го запазя. Не беше прекрасно лято. Но имаше прекрасни моменти, и те съдържат есенцията, духа на лятото, цветовете, от които ще имам нужда, когато всичко е твърде снежнобяло (и облачносиво, мрън). Не-прекрасната страна на лятото не е нещо, за което си струва да се пишат постове. Затова ще си направя един буркан, пълен с лято, такова, каквото искам да бъде -

обвеяно от морския вятър...



... и цялото мокро от вълните (с дрехите)...



... спиращо дъха...



... горещо и прохладно...



... ухаещо на трева и с ритъм на музика...



... трънливо и полянесто...



... нежно...



... с дъх на бели рози...



... хвъркатичко...



... и естествено, пълно с глупави идеи...





... и хора, които обичам...





... и неистово кикотене. xD



И дебели, мръсни, автентични улични котараци като този - те придават атмосфера, пък и ги има много в Бургас. =D



Е не съм ли непоносимо сантиментална?... xD

Coming Home

Е, върнах се. Чувствам се върнала се. Вдругиден заминавам за още няколко дни, обаче все пак се чувствам върнала се. =)

Има много неща, които бих могла да напиша, обаче не съм в настроението за това. Просто исках да отбележа, че съм се върнала и се чувствам много вкъщи. ^^ Още не напълно, защото си дойдох току-що и тъкмо разтоварих всичките партакеши, но и това ще стане.

И така... Здравей, София. И здравей, есен. Надявам се, че ще бъдеш хубава есен.

Не се сдържах:
Megadeth - Coming Home

And today, I leave you
But I'll be back someday
And as I fly away
My hope is that we'll meet again
I'm off to my home away from home
I will miss you
But I know
I know you know

I'm coming home to Arizona
I'm coming home to Arizona

I'll take you everywhere I go
I'll show you everything I see
And as we say so long
I know your tears wish me well
It won't be long till I'm back again
We will meet again
We will meet again
You will see, oh

I'm coming home to Arizona
I'm coming home

Само сменяме Аризона със София. =)
Тази песничка не я бях чувала, защото е от Warchest, което го намерих сега и е... ъм, нещо като събрани песни от кол и въже, но всичките хубави?
Много си обичам Мегадет.


П.П. Имам и някои неща за качване, но това ще стане след малко.
П.П.2 Хубаво е да се прибереш вкъщи. ^^
П.П.3 Ако няма поне три послеписа, няма да съм аз. =)

More Shit

I intended to write something like "I don't give a shit anymore, fuck you all, I couldn't care less," but I won't because I don't mean it. I don't know what to write. All that comes to my mind are things I don't want to write and things I don't mean. I'll just say some of them, I guess. The ones I don't mind writing that much.

Summer ended yesterday about 5.30 p.m. The same place where last year's autumn came. The difference is, autumn hasn't come yet this year, I think she's in the process of coming. Still, summer ended.

I don't want this vacation to end. It's like the worst fucking vacation ever, but I fear its end because I'll have to go back to school and then it'll probably become worse. Still a part of me wants to go home. Well, at least I'll have things to do. So to say, I'm gonna live in interesting times (these days there are times when I hate Terry Pratchett, I guess I'm just losing my sense of humor... gotta get it back).

I feel lost.

And I think I'm a coward, a jerk, a schizophrenic, an idiot, and a potential drug-addict. Okay, I didn't mean that last one.

That's enough, I start thinking it's meaningless, so I'll stop now.

My Night Requiem

stare at the spider
on the wall
when the lights go out
lie naked in a dark room
suffocating
under the weight of air
on your chest
choke with air
my hair
all over my shoulders
around my neck
will strangle me
the clock is ticking
my heart will stop
with it
not moving
for so long
only minutes have passed
millions of minutes
only a second more
on the edge of sleep
and then
fall
inside
the nightmares
will fill the gap
where pain has to be


P.S. Written a few days ago about 4 a.m. after watching Requiem for a Dream again => should not be taken seriously. I know it's fucked.

Another bunch of things I didn't intend to write

I cannot be alone. There was a time when I thought I could, but I can't.

Fuck that. Of course I can be alone. It's not like I haven't ever been alone. I was just thinking that I might manage to escape from it. I can be alone.
But I don't want to.
Maybe this is my greatest weakness... and my greatest fear.

Still, it is not what tortures me. What keeps me from sleep every night is that I cannot even make the people closest to me believe that they are not alone.

Because you are not alone, Sister - I'll always be there, and you know it. But I cannot make you stop feeling lonely. I wish I could, I wish that so much, but you wouldn't let me anyway.
That's why I feel so lonely too.

"There is no worse thing for one's soul than the feeling of meaninglessness."

I miss you. I really do, even though you don't believe me.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said I had nothing to tell you. It sounded like I had nothing to tell you anymore, ever. That's not true. I'm sorry I made you mad and then just let you hang up. I'm sorry I was so frightened by my own feeling of loneliness and acted as if I didn't realize how lonely you are.
I'm the worst sister possible, ain't I?
Please don't hate me. I know you say you don't hate anyone - but still, please don't hate me.

Буря

Гръмотевици като далечни изстрели
разцепиха небето. И кърви.
Птиците-куршуми го пронизаха
с криле безмилостни и лъскави очи.

Светкавици прорязани дълбоко
в плътта му синя, почерняла от тъга
белязват го със свойта светла диря,
а то притихва в кратък миг едва

и отново прогърмява с ярка болка,
разкъсано от капчици вода -
милиони малки бляскащи иглички,
пронизващи очите на света.

Тогава с гръм последен, сякаш удар,
се спира бурята и пада тишина.
Остава само споменът за нея -
една дъга над мократа трева.

Предчувствие за лято

Кавалкади от забързаните стъпки
на хората по топлия асфалт
пак ще зазвучат и тази сутрин
от шарения летен фестивал.

Липите ще шумят по тротоара
със своите дървесни гласове,
заглъхващи в шума на карнавала
от думи, стъпки, сплетени ръце.

И летният Бургас ще се събуди,
отново осъзнал, че младостта
идва като ято пеперуди
за да намери своята съдба

някъде по неговите улици.
И той, обсипан с гларуси, солен,
пак ще ги гледа как се губят
и намират се отново някой ден,

всички тези хора по асфалта,
крачещи под летните липи.
И цялата му пъстрост карнавална
във стъпките им шумно ще кипи.

Grasp

This image has been in my mind for quite a long time now (wonder why...), so I just drew it.


The original picture:




Photoshop-ed a bit:








Photoshop-ed a lot:

On the Morning Dew

At the border of the plain where suddenly the forest dies
On the first day of the season
When the moon will shine full in the sky
I will wait for you there bathed by a magic light
I will wait, I will pray for this moment to become alive
For this night I will see you as an elf clad in leaves
You are going to see myself the fairy of your secret dreams
Even if all this belongs to worlds of fantasy
For this time, only tonight everything is fair, belongs to me
One night fantasy...

Live my every breath, my every touch, my every single sigh
Seizing hold of every glance
As the day's passing by begins a wonderful sight
Dancing on the morning dew, the dawn has come only for you
I look up at the sky for the stars to be my guide
At the border of the plain where suddenly the forest dies
On the first day of the season
When the moon will shine full in the sky
I waited for you there bathed by a magic light
I have waited, I have prayed and this moment has become alive
One night fantasy...

Live my every breath, my every touch, my every single sigh
Seizing hold of every glance
As the day's passing by begins a wonderful sight
Dancing on the morning dew, the dawn has come only for you
I look up at the sky for the stars to be my guide

The Thin Line Between Pain and Pleasure

The original picture...




... and Photoshop-ed a bit...








... and Photoshop-ed a lot. XD

Спешно се нуждая от кафе и прегръдка.

Хей, аз съм старата аз. Тази, дето живееше до Морската, сутрин слушаше гларусите докато вървеше към училище по Богориди, и дето можеше да остане будна и да дочака слънцето, без от това да боли. И дето пишеше стихове на онези листи със сините и розови редове, никога преди полунощ. И морето. И моста. И сутрините с вятъра, и как исках и аз да го погаля, и светлото небе. И лебедите оня път като тичахме. Спомних си. Няма вече да се върна, не и наистина.

Сега никакви стихове. Никакви.
Кога спрях да пиша на онези листчета?

Звуча... Меланхолично ли, носталгично ли... Малко заспало ли... Хм.

Искам кафе. Дълго кафе без захар.

What if...

... you looked at flowers from below...



... or could fall through a tunnel of leaves...



... or lay on the ground until you feel like a blade of grass...



... or could gently touch the tree-tops with the tips of your wings...



... or stared straight into the sun?

More Rubbish

Well well well. No more song lyrics for a while. xD
I thought there were no more of my pitiful attempts from last year, but I found one more - the most pitiful...


* * *

eyes full of rain
there's nothing to gain
but so much to lose
what do you choose?
to rain, rain, rain, rain
'till you drown all the pain
or wait, wait, wait, wait
'till it becomes so late
that you can no longer sleep
nor can you weep
and then you will wait
'till you lose all the faith
that a morning would come...

... but you'll then see the sun.


Okay, now I think this was the last one (in English).

Punishment Divine

It's warm and tender
But very soon it will turn cold
Shadows stare down from the walls
Out of the mist
It's coming closer now
It never rains
It pours on me
So let the saints
Set up the courtyard
The unpleasant cage
The obvious point is I'm insane
Was I aware
Whom I had slain
I fear I was the Faceless
The Nameless
The bush set on fire
No one ever dared to speak
"Shame on me
I don't believe
The here and now
Is all we're living for"

Joyful it seems
But then suddenly
By one false move
It's blown away
Joyful it seems
But then suddenly
Their voices cease
It's gone away

Vanished
To the point of no return
Vanished
To the point of no return

Witness my last breath
I do not regret
A word I've said
The strong will survive
The weak must die
And out of the mist
It's coming closer now
Sinner and saint
The grateful slave

Nature's law instead of God in Heaven

From far beyond
I can hear them sing
I hear angels sing
Songs of innocence
I hear the angels sing
Despite the facts are clear
It cannot be
What we can't see
I must admit
It sounds so sweet

Joyful it seems
But then suddenly
By one false move
It's blown away
Joyful it seems
But then suddenly
Their voices cease
It's gone away

Vanished
To the point of no return
Vanished
To the point of no return

Angels sing, I hear Angels sing
Can hear them sing
Far beyond, I hear them sing
"It's true, it's true
We don't exist"
Far beyond I hear them sing
"It's true, it's true
We don't exist"

Well we all know
There's no other side
It's good and evil
I know right between
There's no borderline
This is the punishment divine

Surrounded by night
I've been offered insight
There is none but the sin of pride
Am I wrong an I right
Am I losing my sight
Abandoning the superior mind

Joyful it seems
But then suddenly
By one false move
It's blown away
Joyful it seems
But then suddenly
Their voices cease
It's gone away

Vanished
To the point of no return
Vanished
To the point of no return

Right away I will be gone
Gone I will be gone

Through the valleys grey
Through the shapeless land
I walk alone
I'm left alone

Through the deepest void
A blackened paradise
I walk alone
I'm left alone


П.П. Чудя се за какво точно е написана тази песен всъщност... Във всеки случай не това, с което аз я свързвам. Anyway, много е хубава.
П.П.2 Само поствам разни текстове на песни... Е, нищо, скоро ще има и друго.

When Angels Deserve to Die

It is so weak and selfish that I am unable to get over my fears on my own, and I can't always deal with things by myself, and I can't bear to be alone.

What the fuck happened to the me that was a strong person and was able to help people when they needed it... without hurting them more? Or did I just think I was strong? Did I not help at all? Did I make things worse, just like I'm doing now - every time I try to make them better?
I'm sorry...

"Your touch is hurting him, you know."
"I know. I'm not touching him..."
... and I would give up Heaven and Hell to be able to touch him without hurting him.

It still wouldn't matter.
I am not an angel. I'm very human - in the worst sense of the word.
And even if I was an angel, it still wouldn't matter.
I can't save anyone.

When angels deserve to die.

I wish I could die like that too.

This whole thing is so selfish.
I guess I'm just too weak.

I don't matter. Writing all of this was wrong, not what I wanted to say, not what I had to say.

I'm sorry. But I don't feel I could ask forgiveness.

Stargazer

High noon
Oh I'd sell my soul for water
Nine years' worth
Of breakin' my back
There's no sun in the shadow of the wizard
See how he glides
Why he's lighter than air
Oh I see his face

Where is your star?
Is it far, is it far, is it far?
When do we leave?
I believe, yes, I believe

In the heat and the rain
With whips and chains
Just to see him fly
So many die
We built a tower of stone
With out flesh and bone
Just to see him fly
Don't know why
Now where do we go

Hot wind moving fast across the desert
We feel that our time has arrived
The world spins while we put his wing together
A tower of stone to take him straight to the sky
Oh I see his face

Where is your star?
It is far, is it far, is it far?
When do we leave?
Yeah
I believe, I believe

In the heat and the rain
With whips and chains
Just to see him fly
Too many die
We built a tower of stone
With out flesh and bone
To see him fly
But we don't know why
Now where do we go

All eyes see the figure of the wizard
As he climbs to the top of the world
No sound as he falls instead of rising
Time standing still
Then there's blood on the sand
Oh I see his face

Where was your star?
Was it far, was it far?
When did we leave?
We believe, we believe, we believe

In the heat and rain
With whips and chains
To see him fly
So many died
We built a tower of stone
With out flesh and bone
To see him fly
But why, it don't rain
With all our chains
Did so many die
Just to see him fly
Look at my flesh and bone
Now look, look, look, look
Look at this tower of stone
I see a rainbow rising
Look there on the horizon
And I'm coming home
Coming home, I'm coming home
Time is standing still
He gave me back my will
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Going home
I'm going home
My eyes are bleeding
And my heart is weeping
We still hope, we still hope, oh
Take me back
He gave me back my will
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Going home
I'm going home
My eyes are bleeding
And my heart is weeping
We still hope, we still hope, oh
Take me back, take me back
Back to my home, oh, oh...

анти-дъждовно настроение

стига толкова облачни стихове,
стига толкова ритми за дъжд.
искам песен от моите викове -
неприкрити от мен да струят.


п.п. ъъ, не... май нямам обяснение за това.

I Hate.

I hate. I hate it when people try to take my dreams away from me. Not merely try to stop me from reaching them, but to take away the dream itself, to tear it apart and then smash it. And hope I'd forget all about it. Well, I do not forget. And I won't let them take away anything.
But the thing I hate the most is that these same people are supposed to be very close to me. Supposed to.

I hate.

I hate it when I strive to do something, and not just to do it, but to do it right, in the best possible way, and someone just tells me I'm not trying hard enough. Or if I am, then I'm just not good enough. Better off if I quit.
Guess what? Fuck you.

And by the way, I hate thunderstorms. This is the third one in 36 hours. The sky is some strange shadow of dark grey... I wish the weather would become sunny again. Even though I usually like stormy weather. In any case, in the moment I hate it.

I shouldn't have written all of this shit. It sounds like I'm just complaining because I've nothing better to do. Anyway, I've written it, so I'll post it.
And I'm less angry now, as a matter of fact. I guess that's a good thing.

Frühling...

Just some pictures...


From winter...



... to the slow awakening of spring...





... and to its full-blossom beauty.








Oh non rien de rien
Oh non je ne regrette rien...


... der Frühling blutet in Paris... und Sofia. =)

Memories of Snow

In the mood for writing in English.
So...
I was looking at my old stuff (old stuff = rubbish from last year) and found a couple of things I thought I wanted to post. The order is chronological, as far as I can remember.


when

when the sunrays of summer were fire
that burned the skin to the flesh
and golden eyes, painfully tired
stared up, sleeplessly red
when no one was there to save you
and you, all alone, just lay down
needing to breathe but afraid to
and quietly wishing to cry
i was somewhere, hopelessly searching
didn't know i was looking for you
while you lay there, alone in the sunshine,
under the summer sky, painfully blue


Frozen

The fire burned the autumn leaves
And winter comes with storms.
Fly along with the cold wind
Over the fields of snow
The sun left earth without its shine
Under cold steel clouds.
The frozen breath of snowy skies
Envelopes the winter's heart
Blinded by the white storm, eyes
Look with empty gaze.
Hands bounded by the heavy ice
Grip tight to stop the pain
Snow falls like silky curtains
Down from the silent sky.
Endless cold white circles
Are drawn by winter's cries


These two are the only ones that could go on here without me spending a couple of hours editing them.

And just some fragment of I don’t know what… It could make a nice story if I developed the idea some more…


For a moment in the dark, I existed only as the twisted reflection of a shadow, until the rain washed it from the window. The next minute or eon all that was left was the memory of my touch on the glass, as I stood still and waited. Nothing happened.

I breathed again.


P.S. I’ll post the other stuff too when I edit it. If I find all of it. I feel like posting everything, even though I’m not sure I will…

Малко лигня в стихотворна форма

искаш ли да плачем?
като летен дъжд,
падащ по земята.
някак изведнъж,
като кратка буря
сред юлска топлина,
тополите да брулим.
да слушаме дъжда,
като сиви птици
с намокрени крила.
на свойте черни жици
те чакат и мълчат.
искаш ли да плачем?
и после да мълчим.
само ще ми кажеш
още ли боли.
искаш ли да плачем?
и после тишина.
и после да е леко,
като след дъжда.


П.П. Това се позачудих да го пускам ли, понеже не се кефя нито на идеята, нито на изпълнението, но пък си бях решила, че ще пускам всякакъв боклук тука, така че...
П.П.2 Разни хора, с чийто начин на мислене по default не съм съгласна, бяха вдъхновението. xD То затова е по-зле и от обикновено.

Keep Talking

For millions of years mankind lived just like the animals
Then something happenend which unleashed the power of our imagination
We learned to talk

There's a silence surrounding me
I can't seem to think straight
I sit in the corner
No one can bother me
I think I should speak now
(Why won't you talk to me)
I can't seem to speak now
(You never talk to me)
My words won't come out right
(What are you thinking)
I feel like I'm drowning
(What are you feeling)
I'm feeling weak now
(Why won't you talk to me)
But I can't show my weakness
(You never talk to me)
I sometimes wonder
(What are you thinking)
Where do we go from here
(What are you feeling)

It doesn't have to be like this
All we need to do is make sure we keep talking

(Why won't you talk to me)
I feel like I'm drowning
(You never talk to me)
You know I can't breathe now
(What are you thinking)
We're going nowhere
(What are you feeling)
We're going nowhere

Why won't you talk to me
You never talk to me
What are you thinking
Where do we go from here

It doesn't have to be like this
All we need to do is make sure we keep talking

Coming Back to Life

Where were you when I was burned and broken
While the days slipped by from my window watching
Where were you when I was hurt and helpless

Because the things you say and the things you do surround me
While you were hanging yourself on someone else's words
Dying to believe in what you heard
I was staring straight into the shining sun

Lost in thought and lost in time
While the seeds of lifeand the seeds of change were planted
Outside the rain fell dark and slow

While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life

I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the waiting had begun
And headed straight into the shining sun

бурна пеперудена пролет?

ако знаех какво искам да кажа с тези двете... неща... или със заглавието на поста, щях да го споделя. за съжаление не знам...

I

през пролетта не идват бури.
само пролетният дъжд.
и няма кой да ме събуди.
и няма никой в тази ръж.

през пролетта не идват бури.
през пролетта цъфтят цветя.
и няма кой да ме събуди.
иска ми се да летя...

през пролетта не идват бури.
тя е светла и добра.
и няма кой да ме събуди.
защото мислят, че не спя.

през пролетта не идват бури...
а живее буря в мен.
и няма кой да ме събуди.
никой толкова студен...

"през пролетта не идват бури",
шепнат новите листа.
"и няма кой да те събуди,
защото ти си тук сама".

II

през пролетта не идват бури.
тя е бурна и без тях.
и всяка сутрин ще се будя...
ако всяка вечер спя.

пролетта пречиства, казват.
дава нови начала.
дава нови пеперуди.
и ме учи да летя...

болката пречиства, казват.
също като пролетта.
дали я мерим в пеперуди?
или в откъснати крила?

всяка сутрин ще се будя,
ако всяка вечер спя.
но имам много пеперуди.
с много пърхащи крила.

през пролетта не идват бури.
тя ме учи да летя.
с пъстроцветни пеперуди,
пърхащи с безброй крила.

Hello

Хей... Аз съм тук. Всъщност практически не съм тук, защото е много трудно да си на място, което съществува само под формата на URL. Ама това не ми пречи да игнорирам този факт и да съм тук.
Което само по себе си няма никакво значение, защото вероятно и този блог ще зарежа като предните опити. Нищо, де.

Тук няма да има нищо специално. Но ще има много не-специални неща, ако съм достатъчно постоянна да пиша по-често от веднъж месечно.

Най-важното за потенциалния читател (горкият/та той/тя) е да знае, че аз никога не трябва да бъда приемана насериозно. Освен ако кажа, че съм сериозна. Но тогава най-вероятно просто си мисля, че съм сериозна.

Е... Толкова, пък ще видим какво ще стане.