Saturday, July 28, 2007

puzzled


We'll do it all
Everything
On our own

you know when you wake up after you had a party at home and everybody left and you're alone to do the cleaning. and you feel all messed up and used like your apartment, and you don't really know where to begin and if it really works... and you realise that world's a tornado, comin fast, hittin than leaves you puzzled and lonely.

I don't quite know
How to say, how I feel
I say too much
But not enough

diplomacy is making other feel good when you feel like shit




Thursday, July 12, 2007

and i still..




living like an already written diary




cate-un pic pic pic de caldura, de vara, de majorate...i just wish i had a bathtub with summer




i'm so tired of playing


playing with this bow an arrow






unknown, unplugged just like a ship lost somwhere in the Pacific.


my heart is beating for the ocean.




nu, n-ai sa stii... sau poate?!?




i'm just a mirror for the sun










Tuesday, July 03, 2007

I hate the world today


daca e ceva ce urasc indeajuns de mult incat sa fac crize de nervi, ceea ce rar mi se intampla, e sa vad cum lucruile pe care stiu ca le pot controla se modifica dupa bunul lor plac si trebuie sa dau sterg cu guma in creier si sa ma apuc sa completez din nou paginile, zilele cu alte stari si asteptari. adica acum ar trebui sa las deoparte stresul pe care-l programasem saptamana asta si sa-mi iau starea de vacanta, cu trena mea de carnaval vopsita in fluturi colorati si transparenti falfaind in urma. avantaju de a trai in piata grivitei - nunti orientale. ce rock, ce bach, o impletire de burice si solduri vibrand, bratari zanganind, si ameteala unui dervis invartindu-se intr-un dans hipnotizant.


all my life been waiting for you

all the midgets are dancing around you



inca n-am aflat care realitate e mai adevarata, asta interioara cu ganduri zburatacite in care ma zbat non-stop, sau aia exterioara, oarecum animalica, sangvina, la care sa recunosc, n-am ajuns decat dedublandu-ma intr-un fel, niciodata indeajuns de mult incat sa fie a mea. cred ca dezavantaju de a fi la mijloc, intre exterior si interior, intre orice extreme, e sa cunosti atat de putin din fiecare incat sa nu cunosti nimic cu adevarat.


and i miss the simple things


de cand citesc jurnalul lui cartarescu parca mi-as vedea creierul meu de peste 20 de ani operat. aceeasi stare nasoala ca la salinger. imi vine sa-mi epilez neuronii. sau sa comunicam telepatic. m-am saturat sa vorbesc in cuvintele astea pe care nu le intelege nimeni.


I want tomorrow