OvO Je pRIča BeZ zaKLjUčKa
10.11.2005., četvrtak
sve su žene kurve?? kako koja, kako koja;)
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još jedan dugi dan. opet sam bila u čileu, ali on nije bio tamo. luckily. to mi stvarno ne treba sada, u ovom nepovoljnom biološkom razdoblju:) izbjegli smo engleski, ali samo do sljedećeg tjedna. i baš me zanima kako će izgledati ono "tinejdžeri i alkohol". moj govor, on the other hand, ne povlači nikakva pitanja za sobom. pa ih sad moram sama smišljati. iako mi se čini da će netko imati nešto slično kad ja malo skrenem s teme. sve za jednu dobru diskusiju. ah, bit će veselo. nego, moja današnja doza sreće je bio litl priest boy (nadam se da znamo na koga mislim). kad sam došla, tako me lijepo pozdravio da mi je uljepšao dan. danas je opet bio u svom normalnom raspoloženju. uopće ne želim razmišljati o tome koliko posla imam za sljedeći tjedan, a i subota mi je opet radna. enivejs, dok sam tako sjedila tamo, stari mi je napravio ice kaffee i sjetila sam se maturalca. već dugo nisam o tome razmišljala. ali onaj dan kad smo se ja i ouzica nafiksale tim njihovim frapeima...bilo je super:) zapravo se ne sjećam baš svega s tog našeg putovanja. pogotovo ne svega s broda;) sjedim tu u onom svom plavom ručniku od majice i smrzavam se. da me mama vidi...dobila bih batina:) well, kako mi se, kao i uvijek, ne događa ništa uzbudljivo, nemam više o čemu pisati. ne, wait! skoro sam zaboravila na glavnu temu. šta mi je?! stojim ja u tramvaju, vraćam se doma. pojavio se poput sjene iz mraka. onako, mean looking, kao plaćeni ubojica:) i pokazao značku. ja naravno, calmly, posežem za pokazom. i tražim...kopam po tom malom džepu. fuck...jel mi pokaz ostao u onoj torbi za trening? tražim...sad tip već stoji pokraj mene i pita za kartu, a ja mu kažem da tražim. tražim...fuck, fuck, fucketty fuck...već se spremam na izvlačenje iz ovog sranja...i onda, napokon, osjetim nešto plastično pod prstima. yes! victory shall be mine! bacam mu to u facu (fine, ne doslovno). gotov je za par sekundi i prelazi na drugi dio tramvaja, a kasnije i drugi vagon. a sve to samo dvije stanice prije okretišta. puta, pazi se;) sad sam dobila nekakvu inspiraciju i moram to pretočiti u riječi. ali tek se rađa nekakva ideja...sigurno opet nešto mračno i morbidno. fale mi zadaćnice:) dolazi u svim oblicima i veličinama. uf, kako bi mi sad malo ovoga dobro došlo. što ste mi to napravili na maturalcu ;)  posljednjih se dana na itunes-u vrti------------------------------------------------------------------ conquest to the lover and your love to the fire permanence unfolding in the absolute forgiveness is the ultimate sacrifice eloquence belongs to the conqueror the pictures of time and space are rearranged in this little piece of typical tragedy justified candy brandy for the nerves eloquence belongs to the conqueror you and me we'll all go down in history with a sad statue of liberty and a generation that didn't agree |
- 22:32 - Komentari (3) - Isprintaj - #
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poetry corner
rastanak sa sobom mi stojimo na rubu svijeta i gledamo u zapadanje zadnjih zvijezda u dubine noći sa zvijezdama i mi zapadamo mi stojimo već na krajnjem rubu sebe ko ispod nas zemlju nevidljivo maknu da je već daleko vidimo ko zvijezdu? zamakle su zvijezde tko od nas još može naslutiti sebe? rušimo se vječno naš je put bez dna i padanje bez glasa. (A.B.Šimić) tužaljka iz moga svijeta, gdje si bila čudo, ti zauvijek odlaziš. o što će od moga čuda ostati u svijetu drugih ljudi? o zašto, moje čudo, rastat ćeš se sa mnom i biti nekom samo žena? što možeš biti ti na zemlji, zvijezdo moga neba? (A.B.Šimić) mi smo se sreli mi smo se sreli na zvijezdi što se zove zemlja. naš put kroz vrijeme u ovaj čas (čas svijetli kao cilj) stoji za nama dalek, gotovo beskrajan, da smo već zaboravili naš početak odakle smo pošli. sada stoji ruka u ruci, pogled u pogledu. kroz naše ruke, i kroz naše poglede zagrlile su se naše duše. o kad se opet rastanemo i pođemo na naše tamne putove kroz beskraj, na kojoj ćemo se opet sresti zvijezdi? i hoće li pri novom susretu opet naše duše zadrhtati u tamnom sjećanju da bijasmo nekada ljudi koji su se ljubili na nekoj zvijezdi što se zove zemlja? (A.B.Šimić) Funeral Blues Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crępe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good. (W.H. Auden) A Dream within a Dream Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow- You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep- while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream? (E.A. Poe)
John Steinbeck
As happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment. When things get really bad there are some who seek out others who have it worse, for consolation. It is hard to see how this works but it seems to. You balance your trouble against another's, and if your's is lighter you feel better. When people change direction it is a rare one who does not spend the first half of his journey looking back over his shoulder. Some days are born ugly. From the very first light they are no damn good whatever the weather, and everybody knows it. No one knows what causes this, but on such a day people resist getting out of bed and set their heels against the day. When they are finally forced out by hunger or job they find that the day is just as lousy as they knew it would be. Looking back, you can usually find the moment of the birth of a new era, whereas, when it happened, it was one day hooked on to the tail of another. And the laughter was so pleasant they tried to keep it going after its momentum was spent. It is a common experience that a problem difficult at night is resolved in the morning after the committee of sleep has worked on it. "I love true things,"said Doc. "Even when they hurt. Isn't it better to know the truth about oneself?" When a man is finally boxed and he has no choice, he begins to decorate his box. It would be absurd if we did not understand both angels and devils, since we invented them. No man really knows about other human beings. The best he can do is to suppose that they are like himself. Once the miracle of creation has taken place, the group can build and extend it, but the group never invents anything. The preciousness lies in the lonely mind of a man. |
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