nedjelja, 28.01.2007.
I.
pjevušiš dok pričaš i
nervira me
što pratim melodioznost tvoga glasa
pratila bi ga i da i mi pričaš o genocidu
pratila bi
ne samo glas
pratim
nitko nikog nikad nema namjeru sjebati
a ipak se masakriramo
riječima
djelima
nedjelima
dramama
u vlastitoj režiji
opet odlazim
kao što sam već stopedeset puta odlazila
i kao što ću bezbroj puta još odlaziti
i kao što će svaki put biti bez povratka
ti zli čovječe
moja projekcija tebe
sasvim je loše izrežirana.
(svaka sličnost sa stvarnim ljudima i događajima je slučajna)
...ja sanjajući, uvijek idem tebi...
(ti si moj narko)
- 19:05 -
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četvrtak, 25.01.2007.
a dosad nije
u kurcu sam...
ne volim biti u kurcu i to nije moj stil, al dogodi se i najboljima.
mrzim ovakve dane, kad ti se tjednima skuplja neka loša vibra i potrebno je sasvim malo, nijansa, da se lavina sruči i da izgubim volju za ičim.
da izgubim svoj nadaleko poznat optimizam i osmjeh.
previše me ljudi u zadnje vrime pitalo zašto se ja toliko smijem.
ko da je to nešto loše?
volim se smijati, mada sam uvjerena da sam puno fotogeničnija kad se ne smijem 
uglavnom, sad mi se ne smije.
boli me glava, tužna sam...samo eto, skupilo se.
jer sam žensko i hormoni mi luduju.
jer je zahladilo.
jer me fax jebe, a ja ni kriva ni dužna.
jer su neke stvari izgledale tako super, a ispalo je da to nisu.
jer, sve šta sada hoću je zavuć se u krevet, pokrit se priko glave, slušat neku molsku muziku, isključit mobitel i...povrh svega mozak.
da ne razmišljam. ni o čemu. i tako bar tri dana.
ali, ne ide to tako...jer nisam tako navikla rješavati probleme.
jer ću sutra izaći među drage i simpatične ljude i trudit se uživati u njihovom genijalnom društvu.
jer ću vidjeti jednog koji mi je baš zgodan i izmjenjivat s njim dvosmislene verbalno-neverbale poruke.
ali večeras...
...večeras mi fali, a dosad nije, jedan zagrljaj i poljubac u čelo i jedno "bit će sve u redu, ti si jaka mala".
povrh svega još i to.
a dosad nije.
- 20:16 -
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srijeda, 24.01.2007.
radio emotions
ljuta...
tužna...
razočarana...
zabrinuta...
olakšanje...
nevjerica...
zašto nikad ništa ne može biti jednostavno...
ili
zašto ljudi vole komplicirati i svoje i tuđe živote?
- 00:04 -
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četvrtak, 11.01.2007.
idiot
bila sam ljuta ko pas.
onda sam malo forsirala.
i dobila odgovor.
zadovoljavajuć posve.
sad se osjećam ko idiot, koliko god me drugi ljudi uvjeravali da nisam.
proći će me.
sad sam jadna. i sritna u isto vrime.
jeben osjećaj.
- 23:15 -
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petak, 05.01.2007.
danas mi je sretan dan...postao sam proziran
present future tense...odsada samo tako razmišljam.
jebem tebe prošlosti, tebe i kolko te je.
slušam tu neku supersloženu plejlistu, koju sam superslagala punih dvajst minuta jer mi je dopizdilo stiskat stalno "next" kad bi pustila da sviraju "favorites - listen to at night".
nije me dugo bilo, to čak nisu moji favoritesi.
i kišu. koja me vratila ovako rano kući, a mislila sam one last time ubit boga u sebi u rodnom gradu.
ništa od toga.
svađam se sama sa sobom zadnja dva dana.
grebem se u snu.
stvaram si kraste.
ali da niste slučajno pomislili da mi je loše.
štoviše.
osim što moran prestat žderati, super je.
baš sve.
ma pusti srce...neka ide...........................pusti si muziku, legni kraj nje, ona je posljednja laž koju imaš...i pusti da stvari idu same po sebi...i to što se tada desi, samo je tebi...star si!!!
a u biti ne slušam pipse. samo su se tako divno uklopili u moj tok misli.
- 01:28 -
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Opis bloga
jako volim tri točkice...
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iman i ja icq:
261-289-303
:P
And maybe you're the Circle Line girl, trying so hard not to let on you know I'm looking at the way your toes poke out through your sandals, at funny angles to your feet, and how you know it turns me on
Or maybe you're the Spanish girl, playing with your hair as you wait for your friend in that wild octagon of mirrors the Tate calls a coffee shop ..... And I can smell that hair from here, and I can see from eight different angles the way your nipples look through that thin black cotton top, reflected to infinity ..... And oh God it's places like that and purple-tipped prose like this, that's going to haemorrhage me girl .....
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
Or maybe you're the bay window girl in Wandsworth Town, in ripped jeans and open venetians, painting the difficult corner of an empty room white under a naked bulb, leaning across the bar at the top of your stepladder at the precise moment I'm passing on the steep street at the bottom of your garden in the gathering night ..... voyeur's delight
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
Or maybe you're the foundation painter at the Central School, looking so fine-boned I could carry you home in your portfolio case, laced up gently so you won't cry out on the bus and give the game away, tied up lightly, because girl, how could I knowingly injure someone with your perfect lips and wrists, your exquisite structure ..... Oh little acrylic painter, I can kiss eggshells, I can be ginger, all the critics say I'm such a sensitive singer .....
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
And maybe you're listening to my voice now, on your Walkman or your bedsit Dansette, letting my songs slip into you on this quiet night in with your pads of doodles and your fingers full of pencils and low tar cigarettes ..... And the music's light and pleasant so you hardly notice what I'm singing about in 'Paper Wraps Rock' and 'Murderers, the Hope of Women', my voice is just a sound that pleases you, that enters you and leaves you just the same, and that's how I want it to stay, because, you know .....
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
But some of those were bitter records, records which accuse women, girls like you, of using your attractiveness wantonly and wilfully to trap and to paralyse men who wanted you and could never have you, men who sometimes felt the perverse urge to trash the women they desired the most, men who imagined they despised all those immaculate visions ..... what adolescent crap, what kind of idiot would sing that? Oh, not me because, you know .....
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
But sometimes I think that every man who writes, every man who paints or composes, deep soul or symphonies, it makes no difference, all those men are only making do with substitutes: Solomon, Confucius, Franz Kafka, they'd never have done it if they'd been as beautiful as you, sitting cross-legged there with gentle music lapping around a promise, there where your thighs meet, of fertility a million artists couldn't compete with
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
And all the time I see you there in the eye of my mind, and all that cheap macho stuff about de Sade and misogyny vanishes into thin air and I'm moved to tears just like any other sucker who's been bruised by all the things that weren't to be, and yet who's ready to fall down on his knees in front of a woman and say "Whatever you may do, whatever you may be to me, despite the times we disagree, your ridiculous ambitions, your conventional inhibitions, I want you to know that I respect you, I accept you and I want you to accept me, I want to kiss you, kiss your stockinged knee, accept the uniquely soft flesh on the undersides of your hips"
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
glupe, besmislene i nadasve komične svakodnevne izjave...da niste ni svjesni koliko su glupe
1. pribit ću te ko vola u kupusu (???)
2.ubiti oko (livo ili desno?)
3.najebat ko žuti (kako to žuti, pobogu, najebaje?)
4.ritko na plitko
5. ...puca pogled
6. obukla si se u široke gaće
7. raspojasa si se
8. jadna ti maništra
9. pijan ko majka
10. prodavat muda pod bubrige
11. s koljena na koljeno
12. na licu mjesta
13. nisan ja veslo cica
14. na sto muka
15. na po uha
16. aj ti tuda
17. baš si neka (kakva?)
18. idi doma gazit zelje
19. za babino brašno
20. ni vrit ni mimo
)