I am loosing every inch of reason,
can`t remember anything at all,
all that we had was just a wicked dream,
I have decided not to dream anymore.
Lying everyone around me,
living for the moment to come,
I turned all my beliefs,
into fucking something I always resented.
Sweeping all the memories dear,
throwing them into the shadow of fear,
cause I am not afraid to love,
now fly away and let me find myself again.
I will keep everything inside me again,
all of this have gone too far.
But we don`t believe in that, do we?
Cause too much is never enough.
What do you even reckon now?
Do you ever think about what we have gone through?
All my nasty habits amused you,
and now I see it draining out of you.
Sweeping all the memories dear,
throwing them into the shadow of fear,
cause I am not afraid to love,
now fly away and let me find myself again.
You don`t have the guts to let me hate you,
so why blaming everything on me?
I felt everything I wanted to feel,
and don`t regret anything at all.
Cause knowing you like I do,
was always my prerogative,
but knowing me like you could have,
is an ordeal you never felt!
Monday, January 25, 2010
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Absolutely true
It`s a beautiful Sunday morning. The sun is shining, coming right through the blinds, into my bad . A couple of teenage boys are rapping on the street, doing some free style and break dance.The neighbors from downstairs just had their second child, a cute little baby boy. The old miss Gedelman is having her Sunday piano concert, performing the Turkish march in front of her two cats. I smell a coffee from the kitchen. Getting up, and pouring some into the cup. It tastes OK, even though it is sugar free, because of my diet rules. It`s a magical day, indeed...
**********************************
It`s Sunday morning again. The stupid sun is coming directly into my eyes, waking me up. But it`s not just that. Nooo... The noisy teenage boys are rapping on the street, some offensive rap song, and they are not even doing it right. I wonder what their parents think of their little rap shit. The baby from downstairs cried all morning. I mean, get him a nipple, for crying out loud. The old spinster is playing the Turkish march again. Learn something new, missy. And I swear, those cats.. I`ll shoot them. Going to the kitchen, pouring some coffee.. Puking it...I mean, WTF? Who would make such a terrible coffee, it does not even have a sugar in it. Why is everything happening to me????
**********************************
It`s Sunday morning again. The stupid sun is coming directly into my eyes, waking me up. But it`s not just that. Nooo... The noisy teenage boys are rapping on the street, some offensive rap song, and they are not even doing it right. I wonder what their parents think of their little rap shit. The baby from downstairs cried all morning. I mean, get him a nipple, for crying out loud. The old spinster is playing the Turkish march again. Learn something new, missy. And I swear, those cats.. I`ll shoot them. Going to the kitchen, pouring some coffee.. Puking it...I mean, WTF? Who would make such a terrible coffee, it does not even have a sugar in it. Why is everything happening to me????
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Family portrait

Circle of trust....Family...Relatives...Friends. The most important ingredients for joyful life. Imaginary circle.. Or, imaginary aura , which suddenly starts to change its shape , and until you are ready , it splashes into hundreds of tiny pieces , and releases all the energy, trapped inside it. And suddenly, you have no fucking idea how you feel about yourself...Or everything around you. You have a tears in your eyes and a smile on your fucking face at the same time...You want to run so fast, but you can not move from that fucking spot, you want everything to just go to hell, but at the same time, you feel glad that this weird feeling is present, thinking, maybe ,this is the real moment and this is the logical consequence that everybody should see and should have in mind. You start to act like an infantile person. You are starting to like the self pity, crying over some stupid ballad and suddenly, you find yourself into a 3D place, which you can not explain to anybody...But it is explainable, actually..So, you are finally trying to explain yourself, and its all going well, until.. You look around , and you see yourself , sitting on an old wooden table, and on the table, a puppet theatre , composed of you, and the rest of the audience, listening to your story. Everything is a version of something else. “The thing” that existed in some kind of fortunate form ,a long time ago, now is just a memory, an old photography (unless, the photography is not just another fake pawn, sacrificed for the queens or kings sake). And, just like that, you will move all the pawns, and the other figures, just to win the game.. Or, maybe, at the worst case, you can shake hands, with the line:” It` s not possible to continue the game” ,still not calling it EVEN.(just for fun)
Friday, October 30, 2009
For your consideration...
A lucid barrier of delusion,
is tearing asunder the rationality and the misunderstanding.
Just empty words,
are coming out of the mouth,
and the silence is causing pain,
wrong impression, fake promises.
The pride is rising above the inner peace,
and all that is left is,
the meaningless walk through the rainy labyrinths of unattainableness.
You are not the one that bit the apple,
but yet,
you are the one that is ashamed of the nudity.
The flow is braking the fragile walls of the existence.
The ebb is just pulling it all away.
No evidences left.
Unfortunately...
is tearing asunder the rationality and the misunderstanding.
Just empty words,
are coming out of the mouth,
and the silence is causing pain,
wrong impression, fake promises.
The pride is rising above the inner peace,
and all that is left is,
the meaningless walk through the rainy labyrinths of unattainableness.
You are not the one that bit the apple,
but yet,
you are the one that is ashamed of the nudity.
The flow is braking the fragile walls of the existence.
The ebb is just pulling it all away.
No evidences left.
Unfortunately...
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Alien love

What can I do for you? A coffee? Cigar? A little crying maybe? No thank you, I will not cry..Why? What is up with the crying..It`s pointless, it`s not like someone is going to hear you, see your stupid face covered with wet mascara lines, looking like some idiot who lost control and now can`t take it back.. What, tell me, it`s not like you are going to lose weight, like when you are sweating.. What can I say now, when you ruined my life? Oh yes, darling, that`s right..The heartless princess is lost..But it`s OK you know...It`s OK to be out of control sometimes, just to see that the other feelings, long time no seen, and felt, still exist...And now, the case is open..What shall we do?We can`t call the cops.The one that is guilty is the one that called the cops..I can`t betray myself..I will run again..Run from this fake scenario that I made up. Trying to be nice, but can`t. Trying to say, I`m glad, writing it, while my brain is resisting the pressure. It hurts, so bad.. I knew it, I mean,it was so obvious. There is no end of something that has not even started.So why should I care?Or cry? Or be angry? You know, people that have seen UFO? No one believes them, everybody are like:Yeah, and I saw Yeti yesterday, playing basketball in my yard. Well, I felt it, and that`s OK... I know that it was not real, but just wanted to stay a little bit longer there..To feel the real thing in the fiction, to be safe just for a while.. To understand, to remember...To feel pain again. But, you know, it doesn`t matter.. I knew that it was going to end.I must admit,I wasn`t prepared yet, and that`s why I`m writing this stupid pointless article..So that, the next time when I read it, I will remember always to be prepared..To wear the helmet..No biggie, just got an exit wound. You bleed a little bit, heal it, and always look the scar when something new is coming...Yes, I would like one cigarette, thank you!!!!!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
The eternal tautology
You know, I wonder sometimes… No, I just said that (that I wonder sometimes) cause I thought that it might be cool that I was thinking something through…Deeply..You know… Never mind. .So, just before I start writing, I was thinking about the saying “What goes around comes around” …That the life is like a wheel, or circle,or, whatever you like, and that one day everything will come back at you like a boomerang… Cause, you know, the Earth is round, so because of that , the life itself has to be round, and it has to work on that principle, you know, to roll…Or maybe it`s because of it`s shape…I don`t know… But now, there is another question popping into my head…Why do you think that there could be more room in a circle than in a square, or a cone or some other geometrical design? The saying is made up that way, so that it could role… I must say, it`s not at all a healthy thought at 10 AM, but hey, my whole environment is not so bright either, so according to it`s facts and principles, I suddenly realized that the circle is not rolling because it is round, or because of the shape of the Earth…No, no…We are blowing into the circle, and it is rolling , until , you are tired of blowing and you just stop. But sometimes, you might blow it so strong, so that you`ll tear apart the circle, and all the fragile stuff inside it will just sparkle around and brake. Some of us, with all the shame and persistence, thinking about the things that were important inside that circle, are looking for a needle and a thread , to sew the circle, and while gluing the stuff that broke, are thinking of a new strategy, how to blow the circle again, so that this time, the guilt and all the broken pieces are on the other side. And, some of us, simply pay for a maid, you know, to clean up the mess …
It is my life after all
Again …the moments of thinking through. Oh, what an imperfectness. The same shit again. Really, I never thought of myself as a person that can walk the same unchanged path…Path, or circle, or field…The name is irrelevant, what is important is what is really going on. Actually, when I`ll think better, there is really nothing going on. You are standing somewhere in between point A and B..Point A, drawing you an arrow that leads to the exit, and the other is also drawing you an arrow, just the other way round, leading you back in the entrance, maybe, reminding you of some past experiences, events that were suppose to be just a memory…a pleasant moment from the past. But somehow, the role that I`m playing right now, is not compatible with the genre of the play, so because of that logical reason, the script that was repeated a hundreds of times, still amuses me. But somehow, out of nowhere, in the middle of the play, I looked around, and I realized that the genre has changed. So, finally, the big word, CHANGE. A word that was suppose to bring me a joy and relief, but, again somehow, the genre of the play that I was acting in, by definition is called monodrama. An empty scene, covered with some yellow autumn leafs, and on the seats, audience collected from the crew that was playing with me before, on the scene. Observing this nonsense, I am trying to sit between them, to get out of the script, the lines that I am suppose to say , and to ask them, wondering: “What the hell is going on here? Why am I alone on the scene, ha? For the whole time I thought I was talking to someone, that someone will respond to my questions? Obviously, rhetorical questions. “And, just like that, with an eagerness in my voice, and the tears almost shed , I am looking at their amazed faces … The lightening from the reflector is following my every step… I was standing there, on the scene, still wondering, with tears falling down my cheeks, and suddenly.. A big applause…. Still confused, not knowing why these strange people are applauding me , I left the scene. The audience left the theatre from the main entrance…I…I was still behind the curtains..
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