I’ve always thought it was Aria, I’ve saved a lot of pictures of Aria on Pinterest bc I like her style and I find her really pretty. I also used to like Spencer or Emily (I mean, their style (c’mon, it has always been about fashion, hasn’t it?)), but now I can’t name enyone better than Hanna. She’s like the soul of the group, she’s been through a lot but became stronger and better and never lost her humanity or was annoying. We love Hanna here
Так много нужно рассказать, осмыслить. Так много километров, которые закончились ничем. Интересно, что будет, если эта фура влетит в нас на огромной скорости. Не дай Бог. Предложение оборвалось, едва начавшись. И горы, и тундра, и море, впадающее в лазурно-голубой океан, и чайки, такие мелкие, как песчинки. И водопады, и туман, и самый потрясающий закат. И розовая вода в Карелии. И арктические цветы. И старые стены зданий, почти ровесники моих бабушек и дедушек.
Чужие имена на скалах вдоль трассы, и твое на весь экран. Мантра «я тебя люблю» каждые 20 минут. Рисунок девушки без сердца, и кровь, сплошная, густая кровь везде. И швы у нее на груди перевернутой буквой «Н». Рисунок не нарисован.
Я думала, что после этой поездки что-то изменится. Всё изменилось. Снова. Я теперь какая-то новая версия себя, которая начинает работу над собой.
Я такая мрачная, закрытая, нелюдимая, жестокая и жесткая по сравнению с другими. Смотрю на них: молодость, пухлые щечки, откровения о сатисфайерах и акне, фоточки с тусовок, цветные очки и бусинки. А я такая мрачная, со старящей морщиной на лбу, с нелюбовью какой-то вялой к себе (не ненависть!), с ощущением что я вроде бы хуже их всех, но всё равно круче. В чём?
Только достигнув подушки, не узнавая свой дом, голова показала мне множество неожиданных картинок. Множество неожиданных портретов, и я даже испугалась сначала. А потом поняла: так вот оно, вот что должно было измениться. «Освобождение и другие рассказы».
Hey baby, where were you back then?
When I needed your hand
I thought that when I stuck my neck out
I’d get you out of your shell
My faith is sick and my skin is thin as ever
I need you alone
Goodbyes always take us half an hour
Can’t we just go home?
Nobody else will be there then
Nobody else will be there
Nobody else will be there then
Наши глаза ведут свой собственный диалог. Его спрашивают: «я еще тебе нравлюсь? Я ведь тебе еще нравлюсь? Я ведь именно это вижу в твоей серо-голубой радужке? Ты правда так в меня веришь?» и «Я знаю, что ты поняла».
Мои глаза говорят: «Отпусти крючки из своих зрачков. Ну и что еще ты придумаешь? Я не сопротивляюсь, потому что мне интересно. Я вижу тебя целиком, без прикрас. Мне просто интересно, что еще ты придумаешь» и «Я знаю, что ты понял. Я тебя понимаю».
Мои глаза видят всё: красивые запястья, шрамы, истерпанность рубашки, родинку на боку, хитрость, голову леопарда, счет в банке, морщинки уголком. О да, морщинки у глаз уголком, которые будут только глубже и глубже, как и боль, наслаждение, радость, печаль, разочарование, гнев, напряжение, отчаяние, умиление.
Мои глаза видят всё. Твои глаза видят многое.
Я думаю, как я переживу вечер. Я думаю, что уже никому не могу объяснить, что происходит. Когда от человека пахнет родным, и это не кондиционер для белья. Когда от человека устаешь, сам того не замечая. Когда об человека режешься, как о бумагу, но также легко его сминаешь собой. Когда знаешь, что всё в итоге будет правильно и хорошо, но сам еще не знаешь, как.
I used to see the future and now I see nothing
They cut out my eyes and sent me home packing
To pace around the kitchen for scraps of inspiration
Crying like Cassandra, I
Used to tell the future, but they cut out my tongue
And left me doing laundry to think in what I’ve done
It wasn’t me, it was the song
I used to move into the future, bring it all back
Let it bleed through my fingers, a treasure in my hands
Now I creep out when there’s no one about
’Cause they put crosses on the doors to try and keep mе out
The garden’s overgrown
And I run in thе middle of the road (ooh)
Well, can you see me? I cannot see you
Everything I thought I knew has fallen out of view
In this blindness I’m condemned to
Well, can you hear me? I cannot hear you
Электрички — моя тема. Самое острое чувство благодарности я испытываю в поездах, перемещаясь в пространстве. Поезд — это метафора. И никуда мне от нее не уйти.
Сколько лет назад миллионы людей умирали, чтобы мы сегодня могли пить кофе, смеяться и гулять по парку камней. Сколько лет назад, мои бабушки и дедушки помнили, сколько миллионов людей. Сколько жизней. Сколько трудностей, бед, неважных, нечеловеческих условий. Сколько горя, отказов себе, голода и болезней. Сколько всего, чтобы мы сегодня могли коротать время в очереди в аптеку, откидываться на крутящемся кресле, есть черешню. Сколько всего за…
Сколько всего, сколько всего.
Вчера была годовщина деда. 3 года. Начало черной полосы.
Мне стали часто встречаться младенцы. Мне улыбаются младенцы. В эту секунду между мной и моими яйцеклетками происходит молчаливый диалог. Все всё понимают. Я хочу ребенка. Я хочу встретить своего мужа. Я никому не завидую, но очень надеюсь на какую-то звезду. Просто очень надеюсь, что все эти страдания — яблоко-ранетка на огромном серебряном подносе, опоздания на смену на 20 минут (расстрел), товарный вагон с крысами, разорванные семьи, бег за фугасками вместе с женщинами, всё это было не зря. Всё это было не зря.
Мне нужно всего лишь выжить, всего лишь продолжиться. И за это я тоже благодарна.
I’m so wired, fought it, seen it, tried it
I die for you on my terms
When I get my lessons learned
Apples, cherries, pain
Breathe in, breathe out, pain
No, no, Novocaine
Still maintain my grace
How come the more you have, the more that people want from you?
The more you burn away, the more the people earn from you
The more you pull away, the more that they depend on you
I’ve never seen a hero like me in a sci-fi
So I wonder if your needs are even meant for me
I wonder if you think that I could never raise you up
I wonder if you think that I could never help you fly
Never seen a hero like me in a sci-fi
But I’d save a life if I thought it belonged to you
Mary Magdalene would never let her loved ones down
Были какие-то умные мысли, забыла сказать. Забыла записать.
Всё возвращается. Спустя 7 лет, пройдя полный цикл, всё возвращается. Как же я так не посчитала? Любимому альбому 7. Лизиному сыну 3. Осенью, это было осенью 2015 года. Картинка начинает складываться. Всё начинает повторяться, инвертироваться, проникать в сюжетные линии.
Танго вернется бумерангом. Смешно звучит, да? Вот эту руку сюда, ногу сюда, голову так…
Есть вещи, которые заставляют меня думать о тебе. Хотя заставлять себя особо не приходится. Что удивительно, мне до сих пор не больно. Как будто так и надо.
Я, как ракета, сбрасываю ступени. Лишнее. Лишние контакты в телефоне. Никогда не понадобятся.
Я, как ветер, мчу на седьмой скорости и чувствую лето. Вот оно. Отпечатывается ли оно во мне? Отпечатывается ли опыт во мне. Иными словами, учусь ли я чему-нибудь?!
Боже, я ведь совершенно другая. Совершенно. И это… ни на что не похоже.
There is no bad, there is no good
I drank all the blood that I could
Made myself mythical, tried to be real
Saw the future in the face of a
Daffodil
Daffodil
Daffodil
Daffodil
English sun, she has come
To kiss my face and tell me I’m that chosen one
A generation soaked in grief
We’re drying out and hanging on by the skin of our teeth
I never thought it would get this far
This somewhat drunken joke
Sometimes, I see so much beauty
I don’t think that I can cope
The National gives me some thoughts about how to feel about the love in its common sense. It is a little bit difficult to start write in English, because of luck of practice. The thing is that many people feel exhausted after ending their relations. I feel that love only expands inside of me. It rises and breaths higher comparing with the previous periods of life. I am searching for a real person, making philosophical questions how people interact with each other, how they create their individuals, help and invest their time. Many different questions and not the same text in English.
Почему застрял в моей памяти, совершенно случайный образ? Отличный от моих рациональных суждений и открывающий совершенно другой, но более развитый интуицией, подход к жизни? Философия, история? Поезд чуть задерживается. Почему иногда мы можем себе позволить не только откровенные беседы с совершенно незнакомыми людьми, но что-то большее? Для меня «да» на орешки со сгущенкой было не только удивлением об открывшейся внешней стороне, но и о самой себе. Почему-то это откладывается.
В поисках своей морали иногда плутаешь в критических точках или смотришь на людей, которые уже рассказывают о своем «дне». При чем это может происходить так легко и незаметно в диалогах, а всегда остается притягательным. Я много ошибалась, выбирая, на свой взгляд «антиморалистов», а на самом деле, всего-то раздолбаев, которые вследствие могли потеряться без анализа событий и ошибок.
Интересно, это я сама намедетировала?
Интересно, это все по-настоящему?
Скольжение. Еще чуть-чуть, и… Ну не буду же я сразу кидаться в крайности. Лучше буду скользить по острию ножа. Лучше буду надеяться на продолжение банкета.
Лучше буду искать в соннике только мне нужное значение. Лучше буду…
Боже, какая Эйфория невозможно красивая. Премию тому извращенцу, что придумал так снимать.
A thousand boys that look like you
Cover my eyes eletric blue
Now I can’t get my head around it
I thought I found it
But I found out I don’t know shit
Now I can’t get my head around it
I thought I found it
But I found out
A thousand girls that look like me
Staring out at the open sea
Repeat the words until they’re true
Cover my eyes electric blue
Now I can’t get my head around it
I thought I found it
But I found out I don’t know shit
Now I can’t get my head around it
I thought I found it
But I found out
Now you’ve got me so confused
’Cause I don’t know how to sing your blues
Jesus Christ, what could I do?
I don’t know how to sing your blues
Now I can’t get my head around it
I thought I found it, but I found out
Cover my eyes electric blue
Cover my eyes electric blue
Every single night I dream about you
Every single night I dream about you
Every single night I dream about you
Every single night I dream about you
Every single night I dream about you
Every single night
Кто тебя победил? Никто?
Здравствуйте, вы в капкане. Усаживайтесь поудобнее.
Яд, который ты так старательно смываешь с себя, не хочет уходить. В конце концов, он у нарциссов в крови. Я абсолютно откровенна в том, кто я психологически — потому что поняла это давно. Интересно, сколько черных неразвернутых конвертов лежит в ящике моего стола? Что общего у ворона и …
Точка, ставшая запятой, ставшая чернильной кляксой. Помните такую сказку «Аля, Кляксич и буква А»? Вот и я плохо помню. Кажется, она пыталась научить нас не писать жизнь на черновик…. Но куда деться от черных пятен?
Придумала себе эмоциональные качели и качаюсь на них. Она говорит, ты как будто еще не отпустила. Я говорю, я пытаюсь сохранить эту картонную глыбу глыбой, легитимизировать её, описать и убрать в шкаф.
Я пытаюсь, только картон размок.
And don’t say you’re over me
When we both know that you ain’t
Don’t say you’re over me
Babe, it’s already too late
Just do what you do best with me
Dance me all around the room
Spin me like a ballerina, super high
Dance me all around the moon
Light me up like the Fourth of July
Once, twice, three times the guy I
Ever thought I would meet, so
Don’t say you’re over me
When we both know that you lie
If you lie down, lie next to me
Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie
If you lie down, lie next to me
Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie
When you lie down, lie next to me
It was never supposed to become a tradition or anything of the kind, really. It was just Wei Ying, just the first snow, the giddy feeling of it landing on your coat and open palms, melting instantly. But it did. Now, it’s him, the first snow, and the river bank. And the stranger.
Wei Ying has taken to coming to the river to watch the snow land and stifle the city that he has made his home. His, and A-Yuan’s, who is at home now, undeniably plastered to the window of his bedroom with their cat, watching the snow in the headlights of the passing cars. It’s Sunday, the day tellingly gloomy and lead-coloured. Wei Ying’s head knew about the upcoming snow before any forecast did, which still failed. It predicted snow for tomorrow, but it’s happening today already. A-Yuan thought it was ash from the bonfires at first.
Wei Ying is restless against the fencing, the carton tray he brought along is at his knees, resting on the fencing’s platform. It’s nearing five, he can’t feel his hands and nose, but Wei Ying tells himself that he’ll come. If he doesn’t – well. Maybe next year.
He busies himself with watching the snowflakes, or rather graupel, disappear once it reaches the surface. Water to water, stark white into the welcoming darkness of the same kin. It fits the city. It fits Wei Ying. Sometimes he envies the snowflakes. Sometimes he’s the river.
Despite it being the weekend, there’s no one around, because the wind is unforgiving and slashing. The nature invites to join its slumber, and Wei Ying almost did, with A-Yuan and Ghost tucked in on both sides. But he has a plan, a wish, a need to quench. Perhaps the snow will help.
Wei Ying nervously glances at his watch – it’s ten past five, tsks, turns his head and – the stranger is here, watching the snow exactly how Wei Ying’s been for the past hour. He doesn’t fidget – he never does, according to Wei Ying’s scanty data collected over three years. Wei Ying gulps, hands clenching into fists. His palms are clammy and ice-cold, but it doesn’t matter. He won’t disturb the stranger with them, he just wants to say hi.
The man is standing two spans down, the flaps of his grey coat hitting his legs. Wei Ying draws a breath. He wills his hands to cooperate, picks up the tray, and strides up to the stranger. Wei Ying is never shy about meeting new people, approaching them. With this man, it’s different. Wei Ying doesn’t know why, and it makes him quietly unsettled. Perhaps it will end today.
The man doesn’t turn as Wei Ying comes up to his side, and Wei Ying gives himself three hysterical seconds to realise that the man is gorgeous, even just one side of his face, taller than him, and completely expressionless. Still, he looks stern. Cold, like the river.
“Hi, ” Wei Ying manages, and coughs once to clear his stupid throat. “Hi, ” he repeats, brighter. The man turns to him slightly, still expressionless, which is fine, Wei Ying can work with that.
“I, uh, see you here watching the first snow every year, three years, actually. Me too.” Wei Ying’s heart leaps into his throat as the man turns to him with his whole body. Heavens, how can someone be so beautiful. If he fails, Wei Ying can’t even fling himself into the river from embarrassment.
“I am aware, ” the man says, and Wei Ying’s brain screeches to a halt.
“Oh, ” Wei Ying blurts out, and at least his cheeks start thawing from the blush. So the man has been watching him too.
“I’m Wei Ying, not a creep. I just wanted to say hi! And, ” Wei Ying points down with his chin. “I have coffee. And tea! I didn’t know what you like. I got both.”
The man inclines his head, gaze dropping to eye the tray. Wei Ying swears his brows twitch. Is that how he frowns?
“It’s freezing today, so I thought, ” Wei Ying cuts himself off. He didn’t really think that much, he just barreled into the coffee shop and ordered. “There’s a black coffee, a green tea, fruity, also black, and a cappuccino. Deflated, but, ” he shrugs, the warming talismans flapping on the wind. “If you’d like something else, I can get it! Just say the word, it’s not that far away. I just wanted to, ” Wei Ying parrots, desperate.
The man looks up at him, then down at the tray, then at him again. Wei Ying can’t feel his fingers, but he must be maiming the carton.
“Green tea, please, ” the man says, and Wei Ying breaks into a ready grin.
“Sure! I have sugar packets, in case you need them.”
Now, Wei Ying hasn’t thought of the logistics that well, so sue him.
“Ah, can you?” he says, and the man readily takes the tray from him. He’s wearing gloves, Wei Ying feels. “Thank you! Sorry, I can’t do it one-handed, I’d just spill everything.”
“Mn.”
Wei Ying blushes violently. He tears the talismans from two cups, snatches the green tea one out of its nest, the cappuccino for himself, and ta-das victoriously. “Sugar?"
The man shakes his head. "Thank you."
Wei Ying smiles at him. Something in him unspools. The snow helps.
Wei Ying takes the tray back, hands the cup to the stranger, and lets the warmth from his cappuccino seep into his skin. He watches the snowflakes land on the man’s coat, on his dark hair, on his nose and lashes, melting. Wei Ying looks away, aware of his indecent staring.
He puts the tray on the platform – A-Yuan will enjoy the tea – and turns to the river. The ripples are soothing, nudged by the wind. The snow is growing stronger, the day darker, his trainers slippery on the wet pavement.
They keep silent, and Wei Ying is okay with that. More than just okay, if he’s being honest.
“Your hands are cold, ” he hears amidst the whirlpool of his thoughts. He turns around.
“Huh?”
The stranger is done with tea, it seems, and he watches Wei Ying’s blisteringly red hands. “Your hands. You are cold.”
Wei Ying shrugs. “It’s fine.”
The man inserts his cup into the tray and takes his gloves off, which –
“No, it’s fine, no need! I never carry gloves, and A-Yuan always scolds me for it, but even if I do, I always forget to wear them, or I lose them, so I never even carry gloves."
The man takes Wei Ying’s cup next.
“You can lose them, ” he says, taking Wei Ying by the wrist and shoving his hand into the glove. It’s fuzzy on the inside and treacherously warm. Wei Ying’s stomach lurches from the touch of fingers on his skin.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
It’s first snow again, late this year – it’s December already. It’s Wednesday, past Lan Zhan’s bedtime, but it’s snowing, so he made amendments. Wei Ying unscrews a thermos with tea, while Lan Zhan holds out two cups. The tea steams in the cold. Wei Ying is wearing Lan Zhan’s gloves, ultimately too big for him, but he refuses to wear another pair. Any of the three pairs Lan Zhan had bought him.
“You should have worn a hat, ” Lan Zhan says, ever the worrywart. “Your hair will get wet.”
"If i get sick, you’ll kiss it away."
Lan Zhan hums his assent, and takes the thermos from Wei Ying.
The river is already hidden under a thin layer of ice, almost translucent. The snow is soft and slow, like an early morning kiss.
Lan Zhan hugs him from the back, warm, familiar. The river bank is empty, people getting warm elsewhere, on the night of the first snow.
Wei Ying is shivering in the embrace, overwhelmed and grateful. More snowflakes in the tea, on his gloved hands, on Lan Zhan’s hair.
Wei Ying watches the river. He doesn’t feel like it anymore.
Is it how love dies? On a dull Monday during a mild quarrel over the same things? Sad. I feel like I’m 15 again and heartbroken, frozen, numb. I don’t wanna see them, I don’t wanna come to them, I don’t wanna share feelings and thoughts with them (though to it anyway just for the sake of a long-lasting habit). I want to be alone. I want to read books, work with people without getting to know each other, just be off alone. It’s saddening me so much. Why did it come to this? What have I done wrong? Why?
открываю Besieged. тэги:
#you thought you’d seen Married before
#this is maximum Married
мы женаты.
мы же на ’ты’.
когда-нибудь я перестану завидовать выдуманным персонажам.
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Hello everyone! Actually, I don’t even think that someone reads my posts and really interested in me and my life. But it is the best way how to express all my feelings and thoughts now. So, what has happened. We were writing test at the lesson of History on Tuesday. I was preparing for the whole evening and night and was sure that I’ll write it successfully! The next day, when I wrote this test I was on the cloud nine! I thought, that I’ll get high mark. BUUT! The next day she came and told that we don’t understand the material and don’t even learn history. I was shocked, when she read my work. She didn’t mention whose test was it, but I understood, that it was mine. She made an angry face and read my sentences. As a result, I undestood that she wanted to say about my level of understanding history in general. I was disappointed and upset too, because she had never done smth like this before. I am sure, that there’s some pupils in our class, who don’t even try to understand it, but why she didn’t read there works? Hmm…
i am so tired of this world and studying mostly…
Hi, everyone.
Actually, I am not in such a good mood as during my winter holidays.
I had an Olympiad this weekends and as a result I am so tired and exhausted.
I have no desire to study and work hard. I can’t even understand, why I am doing it, because it only takes a lot of time and seemed to me boring and useless. I am talking about such subjects as Biology Chemistry or Physics, for example. All teachers are trying to give us more and more homework, that only make us robots. We don’t have enough free time and thoughts about freedom or happiness.
So, this is all my feelings now. I believe, that I will overcome these hardships and my life will be full of bright moments!
I am so exited now to write this post. Actually, it’s smth new and unusual for me, because I have never written about my thoughts and attitude towards smth in social networks. Yeah, maybe it sounds strange, but I am Ukrainian and decided to have a blog in English. It is a great practice for me.So, I hope, that smb would be interested in my personality and development!
I wish 2019 is the year when you start putting yourself first. It may be the time when you let go of toxic people and find people who treat you well. Don`t be afraid telling people "No" or doing something you don`t want to do just to please someone.
I wish 2019 is the year when you find yourself. I hope you find something you are really interested in, something, which makes you passionate. It may be anything, a new hobby or a pleasant job.
I wish 2019 is the year when you finally realise you don`t need anyone to complete you. You are whole yourself and it is sometimes okay to be alone.
I wish 2019 is the year when you start loving yourself and stop doing yourself any harm. It is okay not to be perfect. Everyone makes mistakes and nothing actually matters until it`s important for you.
I wish 2019 is the year when you are in harmony with your body, your thoughts and feelings. Everyone deserves to be happy and so do you. Happy New Year!
Ссылка года: play.google.com
Фильм года: "Призрачная красота", "Остров проклятых "
Сериал года:" Черное зеркало "
Открытие года: астрология
Событие года: увольнение с работы и начало обучения в академии
Исполнитель года: Vivienne Mort, Miyagi, KAZKA
Книга года: "Я віддам тобі сонце", "Чоловік на ім'я Уве", "Черепахи аж до низу "
Песня года: слишком много треков для выбора. Вчера услышала "Хватит убегать" Моя Мишель, которая описывает весь этот год. Еще есть Пицца "Это хорошо" - она включала свет, когда было совсем темно. А еще ведь "Дама", "Perfect", "Спать с тобой", "За миражами", "НЛО", которые отзываются во мне особенной любовью и болью.
Концерт года: Vivienne Mort
Вещь года: два колечка, напоминающие о самом сокровенном
Цитата года:" А може, а раптом не так, і світ не злий. І світ не злий "
Самое яркое воспоминание года: комната отдыха, морские волны в Одессе, вершина Говерлы, шаг в невесомость.
Вывод года: адаптироваться можно абсолютно ко всему. Нельзя позволить себе застрять в месте, где нет счастья в настоящем, а только в воспоминаниях. Мысли не материальны, не стоит их бояться.
Ожидания от 2019 года: принимать решения с уважением к себе.
Надеюсь кто-то знает английский. Ведь перевод замечательный.
An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery and died the next day
It's a black fly in your Chardonnay
It's a death row pardon two minutes too late
And isn't it ironic… don't you think
It's like rain on your wedding day
It's a free ride when you've already paid
It's the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought… it figures
Mr. Play-It-Safe was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye
He waited his whole damn life to take that flight
And as the plane crashed down he thought
" Well isn't this nice… "
And isn't it ironic… don't you think
It's like rain on your wedding day
It's a free ride when you've already paid
It's the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought… it figures
Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out
When you think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up
In your face
A traffic jam when you're already late
A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break
It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
It's meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife
And isn't it ironic…don't you think
A little too ironic…and, yeah, I really do think…
It's like rain on your wedding day
It's a free ride when you've already paid
It's the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought… it figures
Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
Life has a funny, funny way of helping you out
Helping you out.
⠀⠀ все происходит так, как должно быть.
и я верю в это. поэтому стараюсь ни о чем не жалеть.
6 сентября я сделала ооочень большой шаг. 9:22 pm - время, когда меня охватила буря эмоций. сейчас все объясню.
я такой человек, который в принципе мало куда ходит и мало что видит. у меня на это попросту нет денег. да, стипендия капает на карточку, но я не хочу ее тратить, а просто коплю, чтобы однажды потратить на что-то значимое. но в принципе, я никогда не ходила на концерты исполнителей, которые мне нравятся, не ходила на большие фанвстречи с людьми, которыми я восхищаюсь. я знаю, что многое упускаю, но во мне всегда есть доля сомнения, что все напрасно.
но 6 сентября у меня появилось желание что-то поменять. я почувствовала дикое желание, что мне это нужно СЕЙЧАС, я ХОЧУ сделать это СЕЙЧАС. я хочу почувствовать счастье, бурю эмоций и сейчас, и потом. в последующем.
я вложила деньги в мечту. в тех персонажей, которые меня вдохновляют и которых я люблю.
я купила себе билет на twenty one pilots. в первую фанзону.
если рубить, то только с плеча, ага? :)
вдохновила меня на это действие песня "my blood". я просто думаю, что она должна быть моим гимном. когда я ее слушаю, я и плачу, и смеюсь, и танцую, и мечтаю. я ее так люблю, так люблю эту песню. она настолько потрясающая. каждое слово просто до глубины души.
"when everyone you thought you knew deserts your fight,
i'll go with you "
и вот к чему первая фраза в посте.
меня познакомила с этой группой бывшая подруга, сейчас знакомая и в целом хороший человек. да, наши пути разошлись, но, в первую очередь, в самую важную очередь, она отдала мне этот кусочек себя, эту часть своей души. именно благодаря ей я, слушая top, чувствую близость с самой собой и с тем, о чем они поют.
все не бывает просто так. люди расходятся, когда им больше нечего отдать. и больше нечего взять. и это абсолютно нормально. в общем, я надеюсь, что она прочитает это и перестанет меня ненавидеть, а попробует меня понять.
я иду на концерт вместе со своим очень близким и хорошим другом Ирланом (вы могли видеть его в моих сторис, если подписаны на меня в инсте с :), Рубеном, Машей и, возможно, Эммой. я рада, что жизнь сводит меня с такими потрясающими людьми, открытыми, добрыми и честными. за короткий срок времени я его очень-очень полюбила, и я надеюсь, что те 75 долларов, на которые он купил билет, были потрачены не зря.
вот и все. посмотрим, что из этого выйдет :)
msbrightside:
Smash Mouth – I'm A Believer
Я верю
I thought love was only true in fairytales
Meant for someone else but not for me
Love was out to get me, that's the way it seemed
Dissappointment haunted all my dreams
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Не ходите, дети, в магу поступать. Она вас сожрет и не подавится. А вообще, вообще, вот чисто по-человечески обидно: пять лет жизни отдать Университету, чтобы он в летнюю сессию так с тобой обращался.
А Аркадный Огонь - вечен.
A thousand girls that look like me
Staring out at the open sea
Repeat the words until they’re true
Cover my eyes electric blue
Now I can’t get my head around it
I thought I found it
But I found out I don’t know shit
Now I can’t get my head around it
I thought I found it
But I found out
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na
Now you’ve got me so confused
‘Cause I don’t know how to sing your blues
Jesus Christ, what could I do?
I don’t know how to sing your blues
Now I can’t get my head around it
I thought I found it, but I found out
Cover my eyes electric blue
Cover my eyes electric blue
Every single night I dream about you
Every single night I dream about you
Cover my eyes electric blue
Cover my eyes electric blue
Every single night I dream about you
Every single night I dream about you
Cover my eyes electric blue
Cover my eyes electric blue
Every single night I dream about you
Every single night I dream about you
Ну что. В первый день нового года, я, как обычно, бесилась, и, как необычно, зачем-то напилась. Видимо, чтобы потом полночи размышлять о водке и собственной жизни. Вирджиния Вульф не читается. Вообще ничего не читается, потому что надо же сосредоточиться, а это решительно невозможно. У меня тут еще на проводе готовый-на-все-мужчина, выложившийся на максимум, который терпеливо ждет, когда я приду в себя. А я не хочу приходить в себя. На айфоне не работает Touch ID, бабушка ждет, что я буду убираться на кладбище, никто не даст мне денег на коррекцию зрения и новые шмотки, и, самое главное - на ноутбук. Нечего надеть под новый жакет, который был получен странным и не очень красивым путем (какой-то патриархальный флэшбек с прикидываниями гофрированным шлангом). И посреди всего этого безумия - май, и +27 вчера и +13 сегодня, и так всю неделю (ну хоть не снег, хотя на 9.05 обещают). И - посреди всего этого безумия - новости от Флоренс, чистые, безумные, яркие, глубокие, в 4-ый раз точно в цель бьющие…"posing unanswering spiritual question in a pop-song - we'll probably never found out, so we can dance about it". И я бьюсь об заклад, что она влюбилась, что все это так сплетено паралельно, специально, удивительно. И ты снова выживаешь, впитываешь, выпиваешь до последней капли кажду строчку, каждую секунду, каждый звук того, что сам сказать не мог.
"…There is a bigger heartbreak underneath. You don't love yourself"
At seventeen, I started to starve myself
I thought that love was a kind of emptiness
And at least I understood then the hunger I felt
And I didn't have to call it loneliness
We all have a hunger
We all have a hunger
We all have a hunger
We all have a hunger
Tell me what you need, oh, you look so free
The way you use your body, baby, come on and work it for me
Don't let it get you down, you're the best thing I've seen
We never found the answer but we knew one thing
We all have a hunger
We all have a hunger
We all have a hunger
We all have a hunger
And it's Friday night and it's kicking in
And I can't dress, they're gonna crucify me
Oh, but you and all your vibrant youth
How could anything bad ever happen to you?
You make a fool of death with your beauty, and for a moment
I thought that love was in the drugs
But the more I took, the more it took away
And I could never get enough
I thought that love was on the stage
You give yourself to strangers
You don't have to be afraid
And then it tries to find a home with people, oh, and I'm alone
Picking it apart and staring at your phone
And it's Friday night and it's kicking in
And I can't dress, they're gonna crucify me
Oh, you and all your vibrant youth
How could anything bad ever happen to you?
You make a fool of death with your beauty, and for a moment
I forget to worry
— Она с тобой?
— Я думал, что она с тобой.
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—Where is your sense of humor? —Where is your wife? —Guarding her bid on the silent auction.She's got her eye on a beige chair.Everything in my apartment is now beige..Beige is bullshit. —I thought you wanted beige..”