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. =)