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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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…

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.