I'll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day through
In that small cafe
The park across the way
The children's carousel
And The chestnut trees
The wishing well
And I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day
And everything that's bright and gay
I'll always think of you that way
I'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you
събота, 30 май 2009 г.
Every day is exactly the same
I believe I can see the future
Cause I repeat the same routine
I think I used to have a purpose
But then again
That might have been a dream
I think I used to have a voice
Now I never make a sound
I just do what I've been told
I really don't want them to come around
Oh, no
Every day is exactly the same
Every day is exactly the same
There is no love here and there is no pain
Every day is exactly the same
I can feel their eyes are watching
In case I lose myself again
Sometimes I think I'm happy here
Sometimes, yet I still pretend
I can't remember how this got started
But I can tell you exactly how it will end
I'm writing on a little piece of paper
I'm hoping someday you might find
Well I'll hide it behind something
They won't look behind
I'm still inside here
A little bit comes bleeding through
I wish this could have been any other way
But I just don't know, I don't know what else I can do
Cause I repeat the same routine
I think I used to have a purpose
But then again
That might have been a dream
I think I used to have a voice
Now I never make a sound
I just do what I've been told
I really don't want them to come around
Oh, no
Every day is exactly the same
Every day is exactly the same
There is no love here and there is no pain
Every day is exactly the same
I can feel their eyes are watching
In case I lose myself again
Sometimes I think I'm happy here
Sometimes, yet I still pretend
I can't remember how this got started
But I can tell you exactly how it will end
I'm writing on a little piece of paper
I'm hoping someday you might find
Well I'll hide it behind something
They won't look behind
I'm still inside here
A little bit comes bleeding through
I wish this could have been any other way
But I just don't know, I don't know what else I can do
четвъртък, 28 май 2009 г.
Keep walking
I cannot deny that I wanted this moment to come, when I would be able to have you near me even if it is going to be for a second I figured it would bring me only happiness. Not this chill in my heart, not this shame and pain. What was I hoping for? Forgiveness, some sort of reunion? A glimmer of hope that not all is lost. But your voice did not come in that lovely tone, but as on the wings of a storm, my body ached and my eyes shut tight, I could have died at that very moment. I felt my spirit shatter caught in a frozen orb of despair and loneliness. For so long I lay thinking for hours on end what would I say, how you would respond to my voice, to my words? Millions of scenes past in my head as if on film but never had I thought it could be like this, or rather never did I wanted it to be like this. The pang in my heart when I understood how meaningless my presence would be now in your life was so unbearable I could not help myself but to end it there and then. Thinking only of you, seeing that I cannot bring anything good to you, I tore all the bindings, and I cut all the strings. I wish someday I could see you again, but I doubt that you would be as I imagine you. Maybe then I would not even be able to recognize you or for that matter maybe you will not be able to remember me. Even if this happens I still will be looking for that smile, for that shine in your eyes, to know that you are well. That horrible illusion hope still clings to me and although I am scared even to look you strait in the face I will always see you next to me.
And in this moment I feel that if I stay anymore in this stalemate I would die I must turn away from you, from my memories, from my past, feelings and start walking slowly to my future, otherwise it may never come to me. But there will always be a place in my heart that would forever be for you.
And in this moment I feel that if I stay anymore in this stalemate I would die I must turn away from you, from my memories, from my past, feelings and start walking slowly to my future, otherwise it may never come to me. But there will always be a place in my heart that would forever be for you.
сряда, 8 април 2009 г.
Fortuna Non Omnibus Aeque
I feel you around me, as if I am cursed with the presence of your spirit. A gust of wind that lashes my skin and makes me quake with fear, a whisper in the night that echoes in my mind so powerful it silences everything else that is around me. As I lie in my empty bed I can feel so briefly your touch on my lips I could almost taste it, but then I open my eyes and the emptiness makes me shudder. There is a storm in my soul; I know I can’t hide from it. Can’t you stop it? When it takes over, can’t you help me? I only wish to press my cheek to your heart, hear it pound in your chest. I wish it would shut out the screaming of my demons, but they get louder. I can’t break through that thick darkness.
понеделник, 22 декември 2008 г.
A shadow on film
We all live in a darkness of our own making
I open the dusty and long forgotten notebook that always stands by me, I gently stroke its wounds of time and beating, I pick up the pen that is nearly out of ink and try to put my restless thoughts to meaning, to bind them in written words so that they leave my soul and disappear forever.
I want to write to you, who I care for, who I long for, who I hate, who I … I cannot. My hand by its own wish and command stops itself before I even begin the first few syllables. My hope of telling all that is, I guess is not possible for my mind or, apparently, my body.
I want to tell you, you that strange shadow under the lights, so many things that dwell in my heart. I wish to speak to you, to touch you, but how can you touch a shadow? A scary and strange shadow in front of the stars. I see how you dance in frenzy, I know when you are smiling, I can feel when you are lonely, when you are not, and I can sense what you are thinking. A shadow that follows me everywhere and nowhere, only a shadow that makes me a bit jealous when you have a romance. For me you are a dream, I know that reality is not as quite as it seems that it changes all the time according to some law and strange order, but still you cannot, you will not exist in my lonely world. You belong somewhere else, with someone else, with something different. Why those ghosts of yours do not want to leave you alone? Is it fate that brought you here and fate that keeps you at bay? Why are you only a shadow to me? Why are you only a dream? I shall never say that you are the one and only because I do not believe that I even know who you are. But that does not give me peace, in fact it binds me even more, it makes me even lonelier in this cold and dark moment. I know that you will never be mine.
I believe in all that is here, in my small world, not that the real world is as tiny as I tell it, but because we all live in our separate realities that connect only at some few points in time. For one a smile that is seen on someone’s face in the street can mean love or happiness and for others it can represent the loathing and hatred imbued with that new fashion of showing those dark feelings – smugness and irony. Everything is different in all of our worlds, in our closed balloons of truths and lies. So why I cannot understand or even try to except that in your reality all of this is strange and distant to you. That for you the truths that exists in my world is only dim remembered silhouettes in yours. Why do I want to get closer, to find a gateway, a sort of a passage to you? Why do I seek the touch and whispers of a shadow?
Is it really just because what and who you are? Is it that simple and childish? Is it just because you are a spooky boy and I a little girl, a prince and a princess in our own making and thought? I feel you so close to me, but still I want you closer, I wish to make that one final step and touch you without the fear that I cannot, that you will step back. Come just a little closer, so that you can hear my whisper, for you should know what I wish to tell you. I know that you long for such worlds spoken in truth. Come so close so that it would reverberate through the wall that stands between reality and dream, so delicate that it crushes all and can be called only with one simple, but longed by many, word – intimate. Do you dare? Do I dare?
A shadow is only but a shadow; do I really know you that well, which makes it? Would all the connections be severed if I give strength and power to my dreams? Can I possibly hurt you or for you to hurt me? Will I step forward when the moment comes or just stand back because I got just what I wanted? Idiotic. I know what I can give and I know that you, lonely shadow among so many, is all that I want. But do you? Probably not, why should your reality be as mine, even only on this one small subject? Why should it be true that just because I wish for you to be closer you should also want the same? Even now I hear the tearing and howling of the force that cuts through all that connects us. The end of eternity comes closer with every heartbeat and I only yearn for the moment when I become a monster, a creature of darkness, which cannot afford to love or be loved and get rid of the pain and suffering of being human.
But still I want to see your shadow in front of my door and make the dream of seeing that wraith merge with mine and consume me in its blackness real. I know that I can do all that I want, that I have the courage and strength to fight for the things I crave for, but still I want you to be my angle of mercy, my helping shoulder in time of need, my sanctuary, my bliss and contentment, my respite. Those words should not be uttered by some as young as me, they should be spoken softly to a lover, not a shadow, not to you. If but even thought those words will frighten you, make you feel locked in a cage from which you do not know how to escape without hurting your captive. But I am not telling them, I only feel them in my heart. Let me be so brusque and expand my confused thoughts on this pathetic rhetoric. I wish only that one day I could freely speak them out loud to you, I only dream that at some point they will bring nothing but joy and that they will be wanted and be true. Now they are nothing but longings, noting material not even a phantom in my mind. Just a ghost of a chance that it can happen. But can you understand? Can anyone understand the faint hope in my body and maybe, if there is something as this, my soul that one cold winter’s day I can give voice and meaning to those dreams and let them flow without any remorse?
If you step into my abode now what will you think, what would you see? Will you recognize the destruction that you did to me? You should - you left such marks not once in your life…
Why am I scared of the coming day? Why am I frightened of the light that will shine from my window? Why I do not want to hear the ringing of the doorbell or of my phone? Why am I disgusted even at the thought of hearing someone’s footsteps outside my door or voice telling me things I do not want to comprehend?
Because reality, the true one, always eventually catches up to us and destroy all of the petty dreams we create to preserve our fragile minds and makes us forcefully stare at it with open eyes. Every night has its end, every bottle has its limit, every dream stops with our unwilling awakening and the pain that flow and ebbs in our heads and leave us uncovered and alone in front of all that we do not wish to see. That a shadow is just a shadow, that it can only be watched from a distance, that can never be touched or loved, that does not have a purpose, that has no memories or future, that does not give a reason to be hated nor longed for, but still can make the heart pound slightly faster, a shadow that can only be a shadow. And that in the mornings light it would disappear and come back in my flight of fancy with the darkness of night and the soft blanket provided by the ever lonely moon. A shadow that I want to love, but can never truly love me.
But what is love – just a melancholy melody, full only with darkness, at which end there is almost always pain and grief? Does one really need that hatred emotion called pathetically “love” as to undergo through life with the sensation of fulfillment? Oh you sad little wilder beasts dying in the river by the monsters that lurk within. Nothing will stay after us; nothing comes when the final curtain falls. Feelings are irrelevant; yearnings are irrelevant, just the cold reality that you only should fend for yourself and never EVER let silly emotions get in your heart.
I open the dusty and long forgotten notebook that always stands by me, I gently stroke its wounds of time and beating, I pick up the pen that is nearly out of ink and try to put my restless thoughts to meaning, to bind them in written words so that they leave my soul and disappear forever.
I want to write to you, who I care for, who I long for, who I hate, who I … I cannot. My hand by its own wish and command stops itself before I even begin the first few syllables. My hope of telling all that is, I guess is not possible for my mind or, apparently, my body.
I want to tell you, you that strange shadow under the lights, so many things that dwell in my heart. I wish to speak to you, to touch you, but how can you touch a shadow? A scary and strange shadow in front of the stars. I see how you dance in frenzy, I know when you are smiling, I can feel when you are lonely, when you are not, and I can sense what you are thinking. A shadow that follows me everywhere and nowhere, only a shadow that makes me a bit jealous when you have a romance. For me you are a dream, I know that reality is not as quite as it seems that it changes all the time according to some law and strange order, but still you cannot, you will not exist in my lonely world. You belong somewhere else, with someone else, with something different. Why those ghosts of yours do not want to leave you alone? Is it fate that brought you here and fate that keeps you at bay? Why are you only a shadow to me? Why are you only a dream? I shall never say that you are the one and only because I do not believe that I even know who you are. But that does not give me peace, in fact it binds me even more, it makes me even lonelier in this cold and dark moment. I know that you will never be mine.
I believe in all that is here, in my small world, not that the real world is as tiny as I tell it, but because we all live in our separate realities that connect only at some few points in time. For one a smile that is seen on someone’s face in the street can mean love or happiness and for others it can represent the loathing and hatred imbued with that new fashion of showing those dark feelings – smugness and irony. Everything is different in all of our worlds, in our closed balloons of truths and lies. So why I cannot understand or even try to except that in your reality all of this is strange and distant to you. That for you the truths that exists in my world is only dim remembered silhouettes in yours. Why do I want to get closer, to find a gateway, a sort of a passage to you? Why do I seek the touch and whispers of a shadow?
Is it really just because what and who you are? Is it that simple and childish? Is it just because you are a spooky boy and I a little girl, a prince and a princess in our own making and thought? I feel you so close to me, but still I want you closer, I wish to make that one final step and touch you without the fear that I cannot, that you will step back. Come just a little closer, so that you can hear my whisper, for you should know what I wish to tell you. I know that you long for such worlds spoken in truth. Come so close so that it would reverberate through the wall that stands between reality and dream, so delicate that it crushes all and can be called only with one simple, but longed by many, word – intimate. Do you dare? Do I dare?
A shadow is only but a shadow; do I really know you that well, which makes it? Would all the connections be severed if I give strength and power to my dreams? Can I possibly hurt you or for you to hurt me? Will I step forward when the moment comes or just stand back because I got just what I wanted? Idiotic. I know what I can give and I know that you, lonely shadow among so many, is all that I want. But do you? Probably not, why should your reality be as mine, even only on this one small subject? Why should it be true that just because I wish for you to be closer you should also want the same? Even now I hear the tearing and howling of the force that cuts through all that connects us. The end of eternity comes closer with every heartbeat and I only yearn for the moment when I become a monster, a creature of darkness, which cannot afford to love or be loved and get rid of the pain and suffering of being human.
But still I want to see your shadow in front of my door and make the dream of seeing that wraith merge with mine and consume me in its blackness real. I know that I can do all that I want, that I have the courage and strength to fight for the things I crave for, but still I want you to be my angle of mercy, my helping shoulder in time of need, my sanctuary, my bliss and contentment, my respite. Those words should not be uttered by some as young as me, they should be spoken softly to a lover, not a shadow, not to you. If but even thought those words will frighten you, make you feel locked in a cage from which you do not know how to escape without hurting your captive. But I am not telling them, I only feel them in my heart. Let me be so brusque and expand my confused thoughts on this pathetic rhetoric. I wish only that one day I could freely speak them out loud to you, I only dream that at some point they will bring nothing but joy and that they will be wanted and be true. Now they are nothing but longings, noting material not even a phantom in my mind. Just a ghost of a chance that it can happen. But can you understand? Can anyone understand the faint hope in my body and maybe, if there is something as this, my soul that one cold winter’s day I can give voice and meaning to those dreams and let them flow without any remorse?
If you step into my abode now what will you think, what would you see? Will you recognize the destruction that you did to me? You should - you left such marks not once in your life…
Why am I scared of the coming day? Why am I frightened of the light that will shine from my window? Why I do not want to hear the ringing of the doorbell or of my phone? Why am I disgusted even at the thought of hearing someone’s footsteps outside my door or voice telling me things I do not want to comprehend?
Because reality, the true one, always eventually catches up to us and destroy all of the petty dreams we create to preserve our fragile minds and makes us forcefully stare at it with open eyes. Every night has its end, every bottle has its limit, every dream stops with our unwilling awakening and the pain that flow and ebbs in our heads and leave us uncovered and alone in front of all that we do not wish to see. That a shadow is just a shadow, that it can only be watched from a distance, that can never be touched or loved, that does not have a purpose, that has no memories or future, that does not give a reason to be hated nor longed for, but still can make the heart pound slightly faster, a shadow that can only be a shadow. And that in the mornings light it would disappear and come back in my flight of fancy with the darkness of night and the soft blanket provided by the ever lonely moon. A shadow that I want to love, but can never truly love me.
But what is love – just a melancholy melody, full only with darkness, at which end there is almost always pain and grief? Does one really need that hatred emotion called pathetically “love” as to undergo through life with the sensation of fulfillment? Oh you sad little wilder beasts dying in the river by the monsters that lurk within. Nothing will stay after us; nothing comes when the final curtain falls. Feelings are irrelevant; yearnings are irrelevant, just the cold reality that you only should fend for yourself and never EVER let silly emotions get in your heart.
сряда, 18 юни 2008 г.
My soul
“Death makes angels of us all”
Jim Morison said with some glee…
All torment and anguish will be rendered pure in the becoming of this our last hope of salvation- death. For our souls, which are not imbued with light but of darkness and decay, will ultimately suffer the impact of our actions and will not be released until then. This state, our retched life, is merely atonement for what we had and will do…
As it’s so often said “In winning all, we lost all... In winning what we thought mattered, we lost what truly mattered”. Is there a man out there who can say that it is not so for him?
I wish I could rewind time itself, that greatest illusions of them all; I wish I could change my history, the absolute paradox. I can see the angels tears, falling from the dark sky, down and down they fall, hitting the ground with a horrible sound.
The beginning of every end, and the end of every beginning. I am left with this sinking feeling that nothing is real anymore, everything slips through my fingers and there is nothing I can do to stop this. I remember all that has been said, all that has been done. The memory crushes my heart in its grip, my blood dripping in a ruby red sea.
Jim Morison said with some glee…
All torment and anguish will be rendered pure in the becoming of this our last hope of salvation- death. For our souls, which are not imbued with light but of darkness and decay, will ultimately suffer the impact of our actions and will not be released until then. This state, our retched life, is merely atonement for what we had and will do…
As it’s so often said “In winning all, we lost all... In winning what we thought mattered, we lost what truly mattered”. Is there a man out there who can say that it is not so for him?
I wish I could rewind time itself, that greatest illusions of them all; I wish I could change my history, the absolute paradox. I can see the angels tears, falling from the dark sky, down and down they fall, hitting the ground with a horrible sound.
The beginning of every end, and the end of every beginning. I am left with this sinking feeling that nothing is real anymore, everything slips through my fingers and there is nothing I can do to stop this. I remember all that has been said, all that has been done. The memory crushes my heart in its grip, my blood dripping in a ruby red sea.
четвъртък, 7 февруари 2008 г.
Lonely
Another silent night. I can see the stars in the dark and dreadful sky. I can hear the soothing music from the stereo. The glass is nice and cold as I take a sip from it and feel the warmth that overcomes me. There is the sweet, sweet smell coming from the lighted incense stick. The fume from it interlaces with the bitter smoke from my cigar and creates strange and beautiful forms in the air. I can sense something coursing through me, a very faint, but palpable mellowness inside me. My distressed thoughts evaporate in the dulcet fragrance all around me and give me peace. Another sip and another intoxicating wave of warmth overwhelms me. Finally I feel free, I feel translucent. There is no pain, there are no fears. There is no anger and there are no tears. I have in some way forgiven myself all the things I have done in the past, I have thought about all the things that happened to me and changed me. In this brief tranquility I feel calm. I know that it shall not be long before the dawn brakes and when that time comes this mirage will disappear forever. But there is still time. Still some little time left for my soul.
I will never have you back the way I had you. You will never be the same again. Damn. I am damned. By my own actions. I will miss you. But there is no way to change anything from the past. Only the present exists. There are so wonderful memories. I do not want to forget them. I will not.
The glass is empty, so I fill it again with my favorite drink. I can feel my heartbeat slowing, my blood warmer. It is as if I am in another place, in another world. Everything melts before my eyes. Now there are only sensations, an enchanting scent, and a blanket of emollient darkness. And that music. I can barely hear it, but I feel it as if it is a person holding me. It reverberates in my soul, soothing it, comforting it, keeping it alive and at the same time drowsy. I want to stay in this perfect state forever.
But time lives in another world altogether. It does not care for us; it does not wait for us. Here. I can see the first thread of sunlight. Forcefully I return to the place I fear, to the pain that want to clench it’s fist around my heart until it bursts.
“Never knew that love could hurt like this. Makes me feel so sad and hurt inside. Feel embarrassed so I want to hide”
I will never have you back the way I had you. You will never be the same again. Damn. I am damned. By my own actions. I will miss you. But there is no way to change anything from the past. Only the present exists. There are so wonderful memories. I do not want to forget them. I will not.
The glass is empty, so I fill it again with my favorite drink. I can feel my heartbeat slowing, my blood warmer. It is as if I am in another place, in another world. Everything melts before my eyes. Now there are only sensations, an enchanting scent, and a blanket of emollient darkness. And that music. I can barely hear it, but I feel it as if it is a person holding me. It reverberates in my soul, soothing it, comforting it, keeping it alive and at the same time drowsy. I want to stay in this perfect state forever.
But time lives in another world altogether. It does not care for us; it does not wait for us. Here. I can see the first thread of sunlight. Forcefully I return to the place I fear, to the pain that want to clench it’s fist around my heart until it bursts.
“Never knew that love could hurt like this. Makes me feel so sad and hurt inside. Feel embarrassed so I want to hide”
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