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Reggeli kávécigaretta
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<h2> Links </h2>
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<b>x.</b><a href="http://viciousdoll.hi5.com">My hi5 Page</a><br>
<b>x.</b><a href="http://viciousdollx.deviantart.com/">Deviantart Page</a><br>
<b>x.</b><a href="http://www.myspace.com/viciouspocike">Myspace</a><br>
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<center><p style="visibility:visible;"><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://assets.myflashfetish.com/swf/mp3/notebook.swf" height="117" width="240" style="width:240px;height:117px"><param name="movie" value="http://assets.myflashfetish.com/swf/mp3/notebook.swf" /><param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="scale" value="noscale" /><param name="salign" value="TL" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent"/><param name="flashvars" value="myid=18448833&path=2009/02/15&mycolor=BF438E&mycolor2=D9BEAB&mycolor3=D6D6D6&autoplay=true&rand=0&f=4&vol=100&pat=0&grad=false&ow=240&oh=117"/></object><br><a href="http://www.myflashfetish.com/playlist/18448833" target="_blank"><img src="http://images.myflashfetish.com/btns/notebook/tracks.gif" title="Get Music Tracks!" style="border-style:none;" alt="Music"></a><a href="http://www.mixpod.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://images.myflashfetish.com/btns/notebook/create.gif" title="Create Your Free Playlist!" style="border-style:none;" alt="Playlist"></a><a href="http://www.mixpod.com/ringtones/18448833" target="_blank"><img src="http://images.myflashfetish.com/btns/notebook/ringtones.gif" title="Get Ringtones From This Playlist!" style="border-style:none;" alt="Ringtones"></a><br /><a href="http://mixpod.com"></a> <a href="http://mixpod.com"></a></p></center><img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMzQ2OTkyOTEwMTUmcHQ9MTIzNDY5OTI5NDkyMSZwPTE4MDMxJmQ9Jmc9MSZ*PSZvPWU5N2ExZTFmNTFlNDRhZjFiY2ZhMWZlMjE*YTBiYzQ1.gif" />
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<h2>cigarettes chaplin old movies marilyn monroe
edit piaf punk ska gipsy funkcore a good book
tequila sunrise absinthe lemons hair coffee shoes hats
more hair graffiti homeless paint loooooots of paint
chillout pubs snails rats cats mushrooms psychedelic
old photos flash badflash insomnia melancholy
screaming laughing scetchbook poetry... </h2>
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<h2>cigarettes chaplin old movies marilyn monroe
edit piaf punk ska gipsy funkcore a good book
tequila sunrise absinthe lemons hair coffee shoes hats
more hair graffiti homeless paint loooooots of paint
chillout pubs snails rats cats mushrooms psychedelic
old photos flash badflash insomnia melancholy
screaming laughing scetchbook poetry... </h2>
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<h1>currently my only blog.
this page contains everything that made me sad,everything that made me smile,the things that were left unsaid,the things that were said and memorable...(:</h1>
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<!------- CONTENT ------->
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<h1>Emlékszel?</h1>
Emlékszel, amikor szemben ültél velem a kopott lila kanapén, s a nevemen szólítottál, én meg félvállról odaböktem neked egy csábos mosolyt, aztán hazamentem és este elalvás elott arra gondoltam, hogy, "mi lett volna ha..."
Mi lett volna, ha lekésem a buszt és tíz perccel késobb érek el a térre?
Mi lett volna, ha útközben találkozom egy ismerossel?
Mi lett volna, ha reggel nemveszed be azt az aszpirint?
Mi lett volna, ha akkor este esik az eso és én otthonmaradok...?
Rendben.Azt hazudtam magamnak, hogy elfelejtelek, hogy nemszerettelek, hogy csak egy voltál a sok közül. És igen,hazugság volt. De akkor most mért érzem úgy magam, mintha leszakították volna egyik karom?
Akkor most jönnek a "sohával" kezdodo mondatok:
soha többé nemfogok a szemedbe nézni.
soha nemfogok levetkozni valaki elott anélkül, hogy elobb eszembejuss.
soha nemfogom azt a számot hallgatni anélkül, hogy könnyezzek közben.
soha többé nemfogom azthinni, hogy igen, én ilyen vagyok, bármin áttudok lépni.
soha többé nemfogok egy padon ülve bogni valaki mellett félórán keresztül.
soha többé nemfogok hátatfordítani.
Feb.15.2009.
<p>
<h1>Farsang</h2>
Ma nem szólt a harang,csendet intett a rideg délelott.Ólmos,sötét köd szitált a némán bólogató fákra,arctalan emberek siettek haza.Még a kockako is csak magának kopogott azon a fázós vasárnapon.
Az ódon épületek falairól sem pattogzott a vakolat,mint élettelen betondzsungel tátongott a város,csendesen,üresen.
Nami behúzta a finom égszínkék seleymfüggönyt,és hátralépett az ablaktól,tanácstalanúl bámúlva az üvegszilánkokat a földön.Mikor történhetett mindez?Mikor változott minden így meg?Hisz észre sem vettem.Tegnap még...milyen nap is volt tegnap?És milyen nap van ma?
A lány lesütötte szemeit és tehetetlenul összerogyva sóhajtott az ég felé.Eszébejutott,hogy vasárnap van,és ez mégjobban elszomorította.Hisz a vasárnap az ünnepek,a boldogság,a pihenés és a jókedv napja volt régen,így mesélték a szülei,ok is a nagyszüleiktol hallották,és azokis csak legendákból talán.
Mosolyváros ma nem mosolygott.Nami egyedüli reménye az volt,hogy már szürkülödik,s ott sandít az ajtóban a hétfo.Hétfo...talán a hétfo más lesz.
Újabb nap,s egy újabb strigula a doboz falán.Most más,nem ugyanaz a régi látomás.Magam vagyok.Mostanában egyedül játszom párnacsatát.Színeket lehelnék a félhomályba,hadd legyen valami, akármi, bármi,ami megtöri e halott monotóniát.Ezt gondolta,szuntelen ez járt a fejében,még akkoris,mikor az úton szembetalálkozott Hétfovel,és rájött,hogy o sem ígér jobbat annál,ami eddig volt.Nami ismét lesütötte szemeit s búsan bandukolt tovább Mosolyváros utcáin,a városban,amit egy ideje nem látogatott meg a Napsütés.A lassú sétából egyszerre kétségbeesett rohanás lett,s bárhová ment,akármerre nézett ugyanaz a szürkeség,ugyanaz a csend,üresség,ugyanaz,mint tegnap.Végso elkeseredésében,amikor már csupán egy hajszál választotta el az üres fekete szakadéktól,a nap felé nézett,azaz csak nézett volna,de egy ormotlan betonépület állta útját.Ahogyan egy kicsit jobban szemügyre vette,észrevett valami fura firkákat az esoverte falba vésve..Ez állt rajta: "Farsang".A lány érezte,ahogyan a hideg átrázza testét és reszketni kezd.Nemtudta miért,nemtudta hogyan,de e szó hallatára olyan emlékeket idézett elo,melyek már régen elmúltak.Eszébe jutottak a szülei,az édesanyja meséji,eszébe jutottak a régi friss illatok és kellemes hangok,eszébejutott az a rég elmúlt délután,amikor szerelmet vallottak neki alkonyatkór a dombteton...eszébejutott,hogy voltak idok,amikor még minden más volt.Félkábúlt merengése közepette észrevette,hogy az épület ajtaja nyitva van.Szemei könnyekkel teltek meg,a reménység könnyeivel.Beszaladt az ajtón és fel az ócska falépcsokön.Minden lépésére nyekkent egyet,de ez csak mégjobban felbátorította.Amikór végre felért a tetore,egy ócska,szakadt ruhákba burkolózott maszkos embert pillantott meg,az épület szélén állt,és bámészkodott lefelé.
-Farsang!-kiáltotta Nami torkaszakadtából,s mosolyogva,könnyeit törölgetve,fáradtan feküdt hanyatt a hideg kore. Hát megtaláltalak,ittvagyok,és megtaláltalak! -kiáltozott magán kívüli hangon. Mostmár tudom,hogy minden jó lesz,te vagy az,aki megmenti Mosolyvárost a sötét egyhangúságtól!
Az emberke Nami fele fordúlt.Szemei könnybelábadtak,arca eltorzúlt és hangos zokogásba kezdett.
-Farsang,Farsang,Farsang,Farsang....Istenem,de jó ezt hallani.Évek óta nem szolítottak így.Az én életem,tudod,már nagyon régen megszunt,aznap kalapot emelt nekem a halál.Aznap,az emberek elfeledték,mitjelent az hogy jókedv,a Napsugár,miután kifakította az utolsó virág színét is,elfordúlt Mosolyváros felol.Tudod kislány,ha a mesélo meghal,a mese tovább él a lélekben,de ha a mesét megölik,a mesélo is belehal.Ígytörtént ez velem is,egészen addig,amíg megéreztem azt az utolsó kis csöppnyi reményt egy kislány szívébe,és visszatértem.Kislány?Kislány?!
A hideg földön nem volt más,mint a lány hult helye.Farsang egy pillanatig tanácstalanúl meredt,szemeivel Namit keresve,de eszébejutott,hogy neki küldetése van.Fogta magát,és leugrándozott a lépcsokön.Elkezdte bejárni a várost,keresztul a szeméttelepnek álcázott parkon,át az ócska ingatag hídon,elhaladt a tetonélküli templom mellett,minden kisutcába besurrant és mindenhól titokban,úgy,hogy még önmagának sem merte bevallani Namira gondolt,ot kereste minden kitörött ablak tükrében,minden ócska épület sarkában és minden erkélyen,és mindenhól.Mire az utolsó házhoz ért már sötétszürke lett az ég,és hideg,süvölto szél borzongott át az egész városon.Kis ido múlva már a hideg,kékes fényt árasztó utcai lámpákat is eloltották,s minden megszunt.Minden?Semmi...az mindíg semmi marad,az nem szunhet meg.Mindenki lehúnyta szemét,még a házak is,a fák is meg a patkányok is besurrantak a lefolyóban,és ugyanúgy mint már olyan sok ideje mindíg,mindenki egy jobb holnapot remélve merült mély álomba.
Úristen,miaz az óriási kotömb,amibol olyan érdekes sugarakban árad a víz?Az egy...hogy is hívják,szökokút talán?És ez a sok kis szines növény itt...emlékszel anyu?Ez pont olyan,amilyet a mesében olvastál nekem,pont olyan!
Az emberek ámuldozva állták körbe a fotéri szökokutat,s szagolgatták a friss illatokat,melyet a virágok árasztottak.A szemekben könnycseppek jelentek meg e látványra.Még a Napsugár is eljött,és büszkén igazította aranysárga fürtjeit Mosolyváros fölött.Az egszész város,egy éjszaka alatt,új arcot öltött.A csúnya betonkockák sárgán meg pirosan meg zölden meg lilán rikítottak,de nem is voltak annyira kirívóak,hisz aznap minden és mindenki színes volt.
Farsang egy elégedett sóhalyt intézett a külvilágnak,és behúzta színes,mindenféle anyagból összevarrt és összetoldott függönyét.Elégedett is lehetett magával,hisz nemcsak a várost élesztette újra,de eszébejuttatta mindenkinek,hogy mi az,amiért igazán érdemes élni.Félredobta a jelmezesládát,az összes színes maszkot meg kelléket lesöpörte az asztalról,és kétségbeesetten ült le a kis rozzant székre.Valami hiányzott még...és az a valami egy lány aki aznap,amikor felkereste megmentette az életét.
Miaz?Ki csönget?Már szomorkodni sem hagyják az embert.Farsang felállt székérol és az ajtóhoz sietett,de meglepetésére,mikor kinyitotta,senki sem állt elotte.Egy kis rózsaszín,foltos papír hevert a küszöbön.Farsang kiváncsian nézte pár másodpercig,majd fölvette.Egy naptár volt,illetve csak egy lapja a naptárnak,az aznapi nap szabálytalanúl,pirossal bekarikázva,és az állt mellette,szintén pirossal írva:"Farsang napja".A lap tetején látszott,hogy ügyetlenul volt leszakítva,de olvasható volt az írás rajta:"Köszönöm",ennyit írt.Farsang sírva esett össze lakásának küszöbén,azon a napon,ami az újászületés,a boldogság,jókedv és szeretet napja lett általa.
<h1>Kissing shotguns</h1>
They wouldn’t have given more than a dollar for your guts,
but it’s not like you ever thought you were worth more.
You thought you were this Jesus figure, this modern God,
dangling on your fucking cross of misery with crimson wrists and a heaving chest.
Your crown of thorns was woven of grief and misfortune and you’re-not-worth-it’s.
You were pretty, but not that pretty,
with your charcoal eyes and bloody chapped lips. You would have been more beautiful
if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself like you were always about to crumble and fall.
You tried so hard, too hard maybe,
to offer yourself for love. At the end of the night you would murmur ‘I love you’ but
it always sounded more like ‘Please just let me die’, and maybe I should have listened sooner.
You told me you would show me the world,
but I don’t think trapping me in the shadows of your grief was a fair equivalent.
Maybe you were showing me your world, but yours wasn’t one I wanted to witness.
You acted like you didn’t matter,
and one time you told me I didn’t either. When you left me saying
‘I’d rather kiss a shotgun than you’, I probably should have stopped you.
But I didn’t.
Feb.01.2009.
<h1>...fragile...</h1>
I feel like I forgot to be myself because of him...
He was the only person who trully knew what`s in my mind,he knew what my body language meant...he knew every part of my messed up being.And he knew the single thing that could cause me to hurt.
I was trully me while he was around.I wasn`t embarrased to show that I`m just a little girl who still believed in santa claus and romance.Or did I?I don`t really know...but the truth is that while we were togeather I was the closest ever to being myself.
Now I feel like I got out of touch with everything that`s me...everything that trully represents me.I wanted out...for so many years I thought that life just wasn`t worth it...you don`t even get out of it alive eventually so why die trying?But you made me try...and I thank you for it.
You made me realise that my "I don`t fucking care about anything"attitude is not me...and I thank you for it.It`s funny though...I love you and I`m afraid of being dumped in the same time..I just wonder which of these feelings are stronger...I`d like to believe that our love is above everything ,but that`s just an idilic idea of my romantic self.Yet the idea that we could end up choosing seperate paths made me write this to you...to whoever is reading it right now.Or was it the idea that I found my soulmate?I don`t really know...but all of this was born of strong feelings,that`s for sure.My endless memoirs are always caused by hate...the hate for him who I once loved...by love,the love I feel for you,by being dissapointed in myself,by being dissapointed by others,by being loved,by being hated,by trying to make some sence of this hall screwed up world.The truth is,I didn`t write this for you to read.I wrote this for me to read over and over again,trying to get to know myself better.I`m an endless mystery...
And now,as I`m reading it,a week after the first part was written,my mind feels like a stranger...
The truth is I hate the idea of being alone,and this isn`t because I love anyone,this is pure selfishness,using some poor bastard to take away my misery.Misery?I`m feeling okay right now...okay not really,but who cares?I`m not dying of hunger,I have a roof over my head,a happy family and friends with painted smiles on their faces.So why should I be miserable?
The path we`re all walking is the same...yet it`s different from time-to-time,it`s a journey of self-recognition.Finding your true love and building up a perfect career is all bullshit.It takes self-knowledge to do anything,everything is impossible without it.And even if you think you know yourself...were you met to be happy?Will you love?Will you be loved?Love doesn`t exist...the term "love" exists,but the products of the ideas we associate to it don`t.There is affection and sexual desire,and these two mixed togeather form a perfect combination that we call love.What the hell?I can`t believe I`m actually writing this down...
Dec.11.2009.
<h1>The Heartless</h1>
it`s my first...so *stf* UP!:D
The heartless
Your beauty is so ugly
Your words are so empty
When the curtains were falling
You proved to be guilty.
Is there such beauty
To kill thee,who`s ugly,
To kill thee,who`s soul is empty?
To reverse eternity...
We pray for forgiveness,
Our prayer is endless.
Your lies are coloured flowers,
Your deeds are covered in glitter.
We seek the scent of everlasting
Long for the touch of perfection.
We pray every day for forgiveness,
Yet we kill for the freedom of the heartless.
It is he,the heartless
Who infected the brainless,
Drunken our souls with venom,
Living the life of the shameless.
<h1>2nd Chapter: London Sky</h1>
1990.
The air was heavy back at London Central Station.As I waited for the train I remembered that I have some cigarettes on me,just in case.I haven`t been smoking for a while now,but the feeling of this place sort of demands it.It`s cold and I can see my breath.I pretend that I`m smoking,until I actually light a cigarette.Damn,it feels so good.
The station is full of middle-class,Cambridge-attitude students at this time.Everyone is heading somewhere.
The guy on my left has a grey raincoat on him and a bored,strange looking face.He`s probably working here in London and is now heading home,yeat again forced to live the boring life of a small-towner,responding to commands even at home,as if it wasn`t enough at the factory.
Two girls are sitting in front of me on a greasy old bench.Every bench is old and greasy in the station.They have a strange accent,they must be australian.They are probably waiting for the train to take them to their next exciting and exotic holiday place.
Where am I going?What am I doing here?No purposes,no goals...I`m waiting for the train to nowhere.
I should get going now.It`s dark and I have to find a place to sleep,since I`m not planning on going home.This is such nonesense...
...
...
...
I`m walking down a long,empty road.What the hell?This is supposed to be the city that never sleeps dammit!
As I am increasing my paces,desperate so see a smile aiming towards me or a light in one of the windows,my sight meets with another,a familiar one.
I stopped,staring at those eyes,at first not realising that it is actually someone,but staring deep into that someone`s eyes made me feel different for a second.I felt a strange vibe between us,something I can`t describe,but for the first time in weeks now,the bitterness in my mind has been replaced by a curiosity,an urge to get to know this person.I actually decided that I`m going to actually do somthing other than just walk around at night,lurking on streets like a vampire and making phylosophy out of everything.
April.22.2008
<h1>1st Chapter: The Motel</h1>
--- 1st chapter - The Motel ---
1994.
The lights were fading on the horizon...she was afraid to close her eyes because of the noises she had heard coming from the sky.What scared her mostly was the fact that those noises were familiar...she had heard them before..."I can`t...I won`t accept the things I can`t control...they are all manipulative fools haunting men as if they were rabbits!"-she screamed when they took her away.Maggie was one of the few who knew the truth about the world,and one of the even fewer who had the courage to say it out loud.
Life`s revenge on her for knowing this truth was pretty tuff.
And through it all...a long gray street...
She wasn`t all that talented...she wasn`t all that pretty...
After she got out from hospital,she took off to see the world.
She was so eager to get out of there.She imagined that the outside world had became a better place than it was 4years earlier.She was wrong.
She loved driving while the sun was setting...in fact,she only drove at sunset or at night.Her engine,however,failed at a point,so she didn`t have an alternative,but to rent one of those motel rooms where the sheets smell funny and the lock on the door doesn`t work properly.As she stepped in the tiny room,she felt like someone was already in there.In fact,the room was pretty crowded,for every single person who slept in that room left a touch,a scent,a mis-spoken word in that room.
She sat down on the floor next to the bed to smoke a joint.It felt better than most of the times she got high,for this was the first time that she could fly all the way to nowhere and back without anything intrerrupting or dissapointing her,this time,the reality was just as meaningless and simple as dreamland...no obligations,no complications,she felt free.She used to promise her friends that she would get off pot as soon as she felt strong enough,but deep down inside she knew that beginning from that first sip of marihuana that led her to a land of happiness,perfection and divinity,it would all just keep coming,not leaving her the choice to turn back on that road every junky gets to walk once in a while.
But she didn`t care.Every time the flying ended,she just lighted another joint or drank down the pain with alcohol or some chemicals she found in the household.After this,she only had to concentrate on sleeping for as long as she could,because in the minute she woke up her body lunged for more.
That day however,she couldn`t sleep `til dawn,for the piercing noises of the summer rain falling down onto the roof made of plastic woke her up.She didn`t recognize herself when she looked in the mirror,however,these things tend to happen when you`re on pot,she practicly lost the bound with reality and got out of touch with herself as she was high.She suddenly pictured herself walking towards the blackness.She was perfectly beautiful,she was perfectly happy until...she reached the blackness and woke up.She was running from something she couldn`t run away from...she was running towards something she couldn`t get to.
The days spent in the motel were pretty much the same.Get up,get high,go to sleep.
July.05.2008.
<h1>...mandarine si portocale...</h1>
Vezi...ceva sub piciorele tale...ceva persistent cu miros de trandafir cu un strop de miere si ceva sec...da sec.Vrei,nu vrei,calci pe ea,caci odata cu pasul urmator,perfectiunea dispare si devine doar un gand dintr-un milion,dar tu stii,ca acel ceva exista si va ramane intotdeauna sub piciorele tale,fie ca fugi,fie ca cazi,te va urma.
Vezi...ceva prin sticla invechita,verzuie a geamului...ceva trist.Insa de fiecare data cand iti intorci capul din cauza zgomotelor ascutite ale peretilor,tristetea va insemna altceva.Caci in momentul in care iti intorci capul ea se va schimba,va disparea,va reaparea si va domina printre tot ce e viu si mort,prin existent si inexistent.
Vezi...un strop de apa cristalina cazuta pe podeaua prafuita de timp...ceva pur...pur si simplu perfect.Acel strop de apa perfecta reflecta un adevar,un adevar care esti tu.Reflecta minunatia dar in acelasi timp si mediocritatea,simplicitatea unui adevar.
May.05.2008.
<h1>Entry of April 27,2008</h1>
See,as the fog of simplicity takes over your souls,for nothing more to hope,nothing more to dream you`re just part of a big crowd,part of those who stopped hoping,part of those who stopped living.
I hate you.
Don`t ever look me in the eye like that again...I couldn`t resist next time you`l do that,you`ll ruin me.
I love you.
So tell me...will I be happy then?
I just want you to dissappeare,so I`d have an excuse for crying.I just want you close to me,so I`d have something to lie about...I want you to talk to me,so I`d have someone to talk back to...I want you to shut up so I could pretend I forgot you.
And as I walk out your door,all I hear is the crowd...
I hate what we`ve become,I hate what we were,I hate what we`ll be like,I can`t stand you anymore,I love you.We`re torturing each-other,but that`s okay `cause the souls crave for it.
You`ll always be the one,the dirty little secret I can`t hide from the rotting 21th century with Xray eyes.
So just shut up about your fuckin football game tonight!
April.27.2008.
<h1>To Rebeka</h1>
trust-lust...such different forms of affection but then again an image of perfection when combined togeather.
I was young and foolish,yet I always knew I was yours.The moments most pleasant and wonderful,those moments I wish to remember for eternity...but you force me to forget.
Don`t leave that daisy in her pitiful agonizing pain,don`t.Her young eyes were closed by those who loved her,those who kept her from seeing the world so dark and so evil,for this sight was no sight for a young tender creature as herself.Yet when you opened those eyes they were full of shame,anger and hurt.She was just a little daisy...don`t leave that daisy in her pitiful,agonizing pain,don`t.
...she was just a little daisy,they said she was evil,but I yearned for her,when she looked at me I smiled at her,when she cried I held her.
...she was just a little daisy,they said we were evil,but they know nothing of love and affection,they know nothing of hurt or depresion,they act as if they were puppets of time,puppets of the time,just passing by.
Feb.26.2008
<h2>AFI-Girls Not Grey</h2>
I finally thought I was ready to fall from the peek of the highest mountain
I was ready to go
I knew that I was no more the man I used to be, and I knew that i lost something
I started to fall
I finally thought I was ready to explode, like a bomb on the silent horizon,
I was ready to blow
I knew that I had to dive, under the green waves of frustration, of misery
And desperation
And then I met you, you were the drying sunray after rain
I know that I was close to going insane
And then I met you, you were the silky wind on the hottest day
I knew you were the one to show me the way
I saw as the blue sky darkened, as the vast rain clouds drew nearer
It was getting so cold
I felt the thunder break through, as the ground cracked under my feet
I was starting to fall
<h1>Entry of January 19,2009</h1>
Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a journal with 16 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 16 people to be tagged (or anyone really). You have to tag the person who tagged you by writing 'Tagged' on their profile. If I tagged you, it’s because I want to know lots 'bout you.
1.I miss my dead dog more than I miss my dead grandmother.
2.I watch Trainspotting and Foxfire over and over again...I`ve got a problem,I`m addicted,but I don`t want help:D
3.My memory is almost completely busted due to the fact that I sit and memorize lines of poetry or songlyrics I like.
4.I have special underwear that I reserve for Saturdays.
5.I love coffee and cigarettes more than any food in the world and haven`t eaten in a couple of days..this seems to annoy a few people.
6.I secretly have a lot of doubts abput myself yet people always get the impression that I`m the most self-confident person ever.
7.I like to think that santa DOES exist.
8.I think british guys are the sexiest...maybe because of theis accent?
9.I love the way my dog smells after I give him a bath.
10.I only go to parties to drink and meet people,not because of the music.
11.If Marilyn Monroe would still be alive and if I had a chance with her I`d become a lesbian.
12.I don`t always understand my own ideas,but they always sound cool enough to write them down.
13.As a kid I thaught my dad was superman.
14.I sometimes still wonder if I`ve been adopted...
15.I have a fetish about animal-print underwear...I just love them too much.
16.I`m writing all this down as an excuse to not going to bed yet:D
<blockquote><b>Bold</b> : <i>Italic</i>
: <m>Mark</m> : <s>Stroke</s>
: <u>Underline</u> : <a href="">link</a></blockquote>
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<h2>Charles Baudelaire : Carrion</h2>
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Remember, my soul, the thing we saw that lovely summer day?
On a pile of stones where the path turned off, the hideous carrion-
legs in the air, like a whore - displayed, indifferent to the last,
a belly slick with lethal sweat and swollen with foul gas.
The sun lit up that rottenness as though to roast it through,
restoring to Nature a hundredfold what she had here made one.
And heaven watched the splendid corpse like a flower open wide-
you nearly fainted dead away at the perfume it gave off.
Flies kept humming over the guts from which a gleaming clot
of maggots poured to finish off what scraps of flesh remained.
The tide of trembling vermin sank, then bubbled up afresh
as if the carcass, drawing breath, by their lives lived again
and made a curious music there - like running water, or wind,
or the rattle of chaff the winnower loosens in his fan.
Shapeless - nothing was left but a dream the artist had sketched in,
forgotten, and only later on finished from memory.
Behind the rocks an anxious bitch eyed us reproachfully,
waiting for the chance to resume her interrupted feast.
- Yet you will come to this offence, this horrible decay,
you, the light of my life, the sun and the moon and the stars of my love!
Yes, you will come to this, my queen, after the sacraments,
when you rot underground among the bones already there.
But as their kisses eat you up, my Beauty, tell the worms
I've kept the sacred essence, saved the form of my rotted loves!
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<h2>Vers?</h2>
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vers?
Szabadnak születtél.
Én meg nem lehettem függohíd álmaid felé.
De azért mégis keresztülléptél rajtam.
Aztán elvágtad a zsinórokat.
Komótosan kitépted a szívem vérzo mellkasomból.
Keseru volt.
Érezted, mert beleharaptál,
Szádban forgattad a falatot,
(jobbra-balra, jobbra-balra, körbe-körbe)
Majd a padlóra köpted.
Vége.
Úgy hagytál itt,
Mintha csak a boltba futnál, kenyérért,
vagy olcsó húsért a kutyának.
Én meg csak vártalak.
Pizsamában, a bejárat elott.
Hiányzott a reggeli ölelés.
Azt hitted, várok majd rád?
Hogy az elmúlt éjek emlékét sírom párnámba éjjeleken át?
Hazug volt minden szó!
Ne hidd, csak te játszottad e tragikomédiát!
Megtagadtalak.
Te csak úgy, hirtelen,
Mint ahogy szerelmed ugrál,
egyik szívrol, egyik testrol,
A másikra.
Én tudatosan hagytalak meghalni.
A magam számára.
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<h2>Charles Baudelaire : Spleen</h2>
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"Spleen"
I am like the king of a rainy country
Rich, and yet powerless, young and yet most old
Who, distrustful of the bows his tutors make
Sits bored among his dogs as with his other beasts
Nothing can lift his spirits, neither hawk nor game
The dying subjects gathered to his balcony.
The grotesque ballad of his best-loved fool
No more distracts him in this sickness cruel.
His lilied bed is changed into a tomb;
The ladies of his court all lords might love
And yet they can no longer find shameless attire
To draw a smile from their young, wasted sire.
The alchemist who made him gold could not
Purge from his soul this corrupt element
And in a blood bath, as in ancient Rome,
Remembered by the mighty in their latter days
Knew not to warm this dazzled corpse
Where flows not blood but Lethe's waters green.
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<h2>Anouk : Nobody`s wife</h2>
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I'm sorry for the times that I made you scream
for the times that I killed your dreams
for the times that I made your whole world rumble
for the times that I made you cry
for the times that I told you lies
for the times that I watched and let you stumble
It's too bad, but that's me
what goes around comes around, you'll see
that I can carry the burden of pain
'cause it ain't the first time that a man goes insane
and when I spread my wings to embrace him for life
I'm suckin' out his love, 'cause I, I'll never be nobody's wife
I'm sorry for the times that I didn't come home
left you lyin' in that bed alone
was flyin' high in the sky when you needed my shoulder
you're like a stone hangin' round my neck, see
cut it loose before it breaks my back, see
I've gotta say what I feel before I grow older
I'm sorry but I ain't gonna change my ways
you know I've tried but I'm still the same
I've got to do it my own way
It's too bad, but hey, that's me
what goes around comes around, you'll see
that I can carry the burden of pain
'cause it ain't the first time that a man goes insane
and when I spread my wings to embrace him for life
I'm suckin' out his love, I, I'll never be nobody's wife
It's too bad, but hey, that's me
what goes around comes around, you'll see
that I can carry the burden of pain
'cause it ain't the first time that a man goes insane
and when I spread my wings to embrace him for life
I'm suckin' out his love, I, I'll never be nobody's wife
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