what happens when
you're asking me to be the grown up i'm just not
and to understand your dreams and ambitions while you don't understand mine at all
when
i love you but
you fuck with my balance
when
you'd die for me
but i need far more simple things you just can't give me
when
what i feel is the only truth for me
but i love and hate you equally
?
i'm fucked
Monday, October 14, 2013
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
I'm sorry to say it, but for me there is...a distinct contradiction.
Because... if you really believed what you were saying...
you'd be out there.
Out there, on the street.
There's something going on out there.
Something that feels like it could be really important.
Something that feels like things could change.
Even I get that.
But you're not out there.
You're inside, with me,
drinking expensive wine,
talking about film.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
i want to go eat octopus in valletta
but not today
maybe tomorrow
it may be windy and they may cancel the
ferry letting its blue body dance with the waves in the middle of the
bay
give me the binoculars
from your little balcony i can see the
old city across the bay and the little restaurant beneath the walls
just near the water
if i look hard enough i think i could
tell what the people on the nearest table are having for lunch
it's the same restaurant we ate at that
first afternoon
when it started raining and as large
raindrops were falling in our wine we were laughing at the waiter
trying to save the menu board
with the binoculars give me a cigarette
i'm gonna stay here for a while
feeling the sun on my face i will try
to figure out what are the people sitting at the cafe downstairs
saying
i can see the color of their eyes but
they'd never look up and see me
next door is the sliema burger king and
i can't stop remembering writing down that address in my little
travel notebook
just another awesome stranger
but apparently not quite
i can feel your steps behind me
even when i turn around i can still see
the yachts anchored in the bay reflecting in the glass behind you
and i can see me reflecting in your
blue eyes
tomorrow we are going to take the ferry
and eat in valletta
but today i'm not moving from that
little balcony
today is all about sitting in the sun
and holding you
my lovely stranger
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
не можете да ме поделите и не знам какво виждате в мен обаче аз полудявам и не знам защо сте решили че аз съм виновна сякаш аз не бих искала да мога да съм на десет места едновременно всички сте толкова needy и пет реда сълзи и сополи господи а толкова искам да остана сама за малко
ей така се чувствам а ме карате да избирам a ви обичам
ей така се чувствам а ме карате да избирам a ви обичам
Monday, April 22, 2013
even closer
i see the lights of my city reflecting in your eyes and my two worlds collide
it's funny how close fate has brought us - two strangers from the opposite sides of the earth, meeting somewhere in the middle
these days all my thoughts are in english
i realize how much and how little i know it
thank god you love my accent
we talk for hours over bad wine, analyzing and defining the word smitten
you don't have to tell me how desperately in love you are - i see it every time you look at me
and as you lay trembling in my arms and i kiss your wet eyelashes, i can't help but love you too
as the strong man you are, you're so beautiful in your weakness
say i am a pervert for being with you but what i feel is the only truth
i can feel my naivety infecting you, my faith flowing through my fingertips into your atheist heart
and the ancient healer in me wants to sooth your pain and mend your dreamer soul with the power you've given her
and maybe you're right - in the end the numbers in our passports will draw the line they're supposed to and love won't be enough to hold the spaces in between
but now, right now, this feels right
and i'll keep it safe
in me
for me
from me
it's funny how close fate has brought us - two strangers from the opposite sides of the earth, meeting somewhere in the middle
these days all my thoughts are in english
i realize how much and how little i know it
thank god you love my accent
we talk for hours over bad wine, analyzing and defining the word smitten
you don't have to tell me how desperately in love you are - i see it every time you look at me
and as you lay trembling in my arms and i kiss your wet eyelashes, i can't help but love you too
as the strong man you are, you're so beautiful in your weakness
say i am a pervert for being with you but what i feel is the only truth
i can feel my naivety infecting you, my faith flowing through my fingertips into your atheist heart
and the ancient healer in me wants to sooth your pain and mend your dreamer soul with the power you've given her
and maybe you're right - in the end the numbers in our passports will draw the line they're supposed to and love won't be enough to hold the spaces in between
but now, right now, this feels right
and i'll keep it safe
in me
for me
from me
Monday, March 11, 2013
spinning
когато излязох
от онова летище онази вечер, и ме лъхна
пустинният вятър с мирис на море, и се
разплаках без причина, знаех.
просто знаех.
може би заради това се разплаках
sliema
е мястото от сънищата ми
всичко останало
е много повече и от най-дръзките ми мечти
и мога да подреждам
изречения в главата си до безкрай, но
накрая, както винаги, ще си замълча.
ще си сложа моята
мона-лиза усмивка и ще запазя всичко за
себе си
Monday, February 11, 2013
всичко е относително
потъвам във вихъра на дните, докато изгубя всякаква
представа за време и място. и единственото, което мога да направя е да се
вкопча в цветната буря, да й се отдам и да се държа все по-здраво, за да не ме
убие центробежната сила.
казаха ми, че изглеждам сякаш медитирам, докато се поклащам
леко със затворени очи на божествената музика.
тези дни всички са останали с впечатлението, че съм на 23.
но сега не ми остава друго, освен да си тръгна – пораснала,
цветна, щастлива, но и все още малка, невежа, не-влюбена.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
чета керуак, след като с години го
пренебрегвах и подценявах. да, за всичко си има време. някакъв миг на
наместване на фокуса.
понякога не искам да бъда момиче. да се смея
като момиче, да вървя като момиче, да се колебая като момиче. и не искам да го
приема, но от момиче рядко излиза добър писател и още ужасно по-рядко – добър
режисьор.
но по-често не искам да съм момче, така че ми
е добре.
‘животът е като бельото – трябва да го сменяш
по два пъти на ден.’, казва бредбъри
изпитвам желанието да се отдам на източни
религии.
колкото повече намирам смисъла, толкова повече
търся. колкото повече вярвам, че всичко е в главата ми и мога да постигна
каквото поискам, толкова повече се и убеждавам, че точно защото е в главата ми,
аз винаги ще си бъда граница сама на себе си и никога няма да мога да се
надскоча истински.
не че не съм щастлива. ужасно съм щастлива.
просто търся нещо. и, не знам защо, но мисля, че ще го намеря.
Monday, January 7, 2013
и сме на най-отпред на втория етаж на червен автобус
късно късно нощем
и гледам мокрия път пред мен, докато ти ми говориш
за разказите си и плановете си
и аз знам, че моментът в който хората ме допускат до
страстите и мечтите си, е моментът в който ги обиквам истински
всички имаме нужда от вдъхновяващи познанства
за три дни
или за цял живот
това е песента на годината
Thursday, January 3, 2013
random
again I
have this almost painful need to write and draw and sing and scream
and once
again I am a prisoner in my own mind and my own boundaries
today I
spent half an hour staring at a spoon and maybe I could have done it that last
night in brugge as then I was so sure nothing is real
I feel like
screaming, hitting, crying, running till I am too tired to think
I never
feel this way while traveling
I can’t
recognize myself in the mirror
wearing
dress and make-up and stuff
and I am
not sure I like what I see
when I get
‘home’ first thing I will be throwing away half my clothes
and reading
all the books I bought but never read
and
ordering Rayuela in spanish cause it’s the purest poetry I’ve ever seen
I’ve been
loving strangers this year, but yet again isn’t everybody?
I fall
asleep while reading in the afternoon and dream about running up a hill and Ale
saving me from a speeding car, whatever that means
you’re not
really dead if nobody knows you’re dead
when I’m
ready to die, I’ll disappear
I’ll go to new zealand
and never come back
I am
getting dizzy
you know
the feeling you get in a library or a bookstore
wanting to
read everything, right now, at once, to the last page, to smell and touch every
book, to understand every character, to feel every line of poetry, to relive
every story, and not be able to decide where to start, and feeling a little bit
like crying, but mostly inspired….
well,
that’s exactly how I feel when I look at a map
right now I
just want to write but my thoughts are so scattered
I picture
them as millions beads on the endless glass floor of time and space
and I never
seem to be able to organize them in any way
that’s why
I don’t write anything with a plot
I can
always try stream of consciousness but, come on, people don’t understand or like
even Faulkner, and he is a genius, so you’ll be shutting this page pretty soon
few days
ago I found out I share a birthday with Kerouac, how cool is that
whatever,
somebody finally put a password on that wifi, that’s the main reason I’m even
thinking these
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
време е за малко равносметки
тази година съм пропътувала 15 000км със самолет (общо 11 полета)
2 040км с влак
3 845км с автобус
и 1 250км на стоп
общо 22 140км
8 дни на хотел
34 дни на каучсърфинг
и още 16 дни по подовете и леглата на разни яки хора
филмите и книгите са малко, дори не съм ги броила, но няма значение
тази година съм пропътувала 15 000км със самолет (общо 11 полета)
2 040км с влак
3 845км с автобус
и 1 250км на стоп
общо 22 140км
8 дни на хотел
34 дни на каучсърфинг
и още 16 дни по подовете и леглата на разни яки хора
филмите и книгите са малко, дори не съм ги броила, но няма значение
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