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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken
*Pretpostavimo da sam tinejdžer. Pretpostavimo da ganjam sreću po svijetu, i da mi zasad, donekle, uspijeva.
*Učinimo te pretpostavke istinitima. Napravimo od njih teoreme.
*I to je zapravo sve što je potrebno znati.
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Robert Frost, Fire and Ice
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seed. koje nadilazi. ;)
paula
nina
luce
black widow
irmo
tear of blood
patriša
Dugo je čekam,
Dušu cvijeta trešnje,
-a brzo prođe.
Sogi
contact me:
icq: 376-652-438
msn: penny_simple@hotmail.com
vas ima
Coldplay Viva La Vida
I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own
I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemies eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing:
"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"
One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt, and pillars of sand
I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can not explain
Once you know there was never, never an honest word
That was when I ruled the world
(Ohhh)
It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in.
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People could not believe what I'd become
Revolutionaries Wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh who would ever want to be king?
I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can not explain
I know Saint Peter won't call my name
Never an honest word
And that was when I ruled the world
(Ohhhhh Ohhh Ohhh)
Hear Jerusalem bells are ringings
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can not explain
I know Saint Peter will call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world
Oooooh Oooooh Oooooh
Azure Ray Another Week
I wake up each morning
Go to work at eight
Come home for dinner
Time to celebrate
So I round up my friends
We made it through another week
We may not have much
But we've got what we need
So we go all night
Until i see his face
Then the party's over
This drink has no taste
He makes me lonely
When he comes around
I tried for years to beat this one down
I've got all my friends
Couldn't ask for more
But he makes me lonely
When he knocks on my door
The Killers When You Were Young
You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
To save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch it now
Here he comes
He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined
When you were young
Can we climb this mountain
I don't know
Higher now than ever before
I know we can make it if we take it slow
Let's take it easy
Easy now
Watch it go
We're burning down the highway skyline
On the back of a hurricane
That started turning
When you were young
When you were young
And sometimes you close your eyes
And see the place where you used to live
When you were young
They say the devil's water
It ain't so sweet
You don't have to drink right now
But you can dip your feet
Every once in a little while
You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
To save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch it now
Here he comes
He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined
When you were young
(talks like a gentleman)
(like you imagined)
When you were young
I said he doesn't look a thing like Jesus
He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But more than you'll ever know
Jebote, gledam, eksplozija frešmena na facebooku. Sad ga svi imaju. Uploadaju slike, većinom svoje.
„Da, imam i rozne starke...“
„A,da, jasno.(Bemti, kak sam zaboravila.)“
Dodaju me na friends listu. Većinu zapravo ni ne poznajem. Pitam se – žele li samo da im kraj Friends piše 1,432? Najvjerojatnije. Riječi koje pišu su razvijenija verzija hrvatsko-engleskog slenga nego prije 3-4 godine, da ne kažem – u moje vrijeme. Jer... tek mi je šesnaest. Nekako je iritantno čitati seksističke komentare, koji samo što ne viču Jebote, koja pička ili nešto slično, upućene trinaestogodišnjakinjama koje se furaju na harajuku.
next....next...crne starke, emo stil....next...rozne starke, hardcore hello kitty....next...blještava trinaestogodišnja plavuša sa netrinaestogodišnjački obučenim frendicama, a iza njih oronuli kućerak. Kloštar, Molve Grede, Đurđevac, Ferdinandovac, Budrovac.
Majkomilagdjemestavi. (!)
Pa tko onda nebi poželio hrvatski čaj, neki prastari treš klasik na devedeu s mađarskim titlovima i svoju malu žutu sobu koja nije čišćena tjednima.
Jer, kvragu, odrastamo. Sad sam ja ona koja bude gledala na fazane svisoka. Jer mi se ne sviđa sve to. Djetinjarije, kažem. Nisu bile djetinjarije kad sam ih ja radila. Jer sam bila ja. „Ja nisam bila takva.“
Zaboravila sam gledati u nebo. FYI, plavo je. S oblacima. I suncem.
FYI
IDK
TMR
BTW
OMG
WTF
O moj Bože! Dosta! Dosta!
Zbilja mi sve to stvara buku u glavi.
Nisam primila knjigu u ruke i naučila nešto još od lipnja. A listopad je, jelte.
Nema usmenih. (Eat you.)
Matematika – polinomi.
Onak. Kaj me zezaš?
prosjek - 96
Francuski – les incompetants. Je n'ai pas du problem.
prosjek - devedesetinešto
Povijest – hahahahhahaha!! :D :D
riight.
prosjek – nešto plus
Anatomija – sjedim sa samom. Nije da posebno obraćam pažnju na ploču.
prosjek - devedesetinešto
Engleski – kvragu i život.
prosjek – sedamdeset i nešto, pretpostavljam. inače bih bila u study hallu.
I to je to. Više-manje. Možda manje.
Claire: Are you going to eat it?
Sylar: Eat your brain? Claire, that's digusting.
:D:D:D:D:D
Valjda... se ništa ne mijenja. :) Osjećam se.. ko i dok sam doma. Previše osjećaja, u svakom slučaju. Ali na to sam već navikla, pa se nekako nosim s time.
Tisuću trepetljikavih nožica ispod grla i još tisuću u glavi. Hipersenzibilnost, osjećaj vjetra na koži, žuto sunce (taman na pravoj temperaturi), pamuk, udaljeni glasovi, paukova mreža i glazba.
Osjećaji.
Tisuće trepetljikavih nožica. Koje se neprestano miču.
Ljubav za svijet.
Zviježđa.
Svijest.
Hands on me.
Hands on me.
Mir. Spokoj. I tisuće trepetljikavih nožica. Izgubljena u svijesnom, izgubljena u snu.
Znam da ovo nema određenog smisla, ali ne mogu izreći dvije normalne rečenice. Možda je zbog pjesme. Možda je zbog sunca. Možda je zbog toga jer me zrelost izdala, pa se sad opet navlačim s osjećajima koji me guše. Iako nemaju razloga za to.
Ali ljudi.. disperzija. Drugi ljudi su staklena prizma za komešanje i bezrazložnost emocija.
Hvala, Kelly, što si sad bila u mojoj sobi. I na glupoj „baaaaaaaaaahahahaaa“ imitaciji Mikea, i na youtubeovskom America's Next Top Model-u. Iako je to najplića emisija ikad. IKAD. :)
Nego... Da. :D
Imali smo Pajamas day prošli petak, bilo je zabavno gledati kako svi čitav dan hodaju u pidžamama. Na nastavu i sve.
Rješila sam se anatomije, matematike i francuskog za neko dogledno vrijeme.
Još sutra mis Šepard i onda sam done za ovaj tjedan.
Imamo produženi vikend. I ja možda idem u Atlantu. :)
Jedvačekam. Molimtebožedaidem. Hvala.
Pusač, kisač, bokač.
Ofce.
Mislim da se danas vraćam onome što sam bila prije ovoga. Nakratko sam bila neko robotirano američko čudo i bez mozga. Zaboravila sam nebo, balone od sapunice, putovanja, čežnju i sanjarenje. Zaboravila sam sve to jer sam napokon dobila nešto što sam dugo željela. I osjećala se ko da nekome dugujem za to. Sve je bilo slika, brzi pokreti izvan mojeg dohvata. Ko ona večer u KC-u. Znate, ona dok smo se vrtjeli na onom vražjem vrtuljku i gledali skejtere.
Ako me svaka ostvarena želja okreće za tristošezdeset, gore je od rollercoastera i tog vrtuljka. I želudac mi se buni.
Danas me ošamutio nevjerojatan koktel osjećaja. U istome trenu sam bila na vrhu i na dnu, najsretnija i najtužnija, najpospanija i najhiper. I odjednom sve vidim drugačije. Odjednom je sve ovo – all about me. Ili je to možda samo ovaj tren (što se u svakom slučaju nadam da nije).
I da, miss Šepard, točka ide van zagrade. Tak su mi rekli prije šesnajst godina, kvragu. Nemreš me sad ebat da sam u krivu.
Iz nekog razloga, strašno me živcira dobiti išarani esej natrag, s jednim čitavim paragrafom prekriženim jer me neka amerikanka uči kako razmišljati na njen način. Jebemu i primjere i camera anglove. Mislim da ti je prilično jasno što mislim kad kažem da mi se više sviđa knjiga nego film. I mučila sam se, ženo, da napišem taj esej. Ne volim kad ti ne voliš moj paragraf pa ga prekrižiš. Samo zato jer je više kreativan nego faktualan (i ne, neznam jel 'faktualan' postoji ko riječ u standardnom hrvatskom jeziku).
creepy old women.
Mrzim kad me plaše čudni ljudi za koje neznam što im se mota po glavi. A ona je jedna od takvih.
Hey there Delilah,
don't you worry 'bout the distance,
I'm right there if you get lonely
Give this song another listen
Close your eyes
Listen to my voice, it's my disguise
I'm by your side
Svi misle da sam čudna. Weird je moj zaštitni znak.
Molim?
Nisam.
Ja sam ja. I nisam čudna. Glupi stereotipi. Niko nema glupe izjave kakve smo mi imali. I niko ne kuži moje asocijacije. I kažu mi: „God damn it, you're fucking weird.“
Pretty strong statement, don't ya think? To be 'fucking weird' or a 'fucktard' just makes me feel more special. And makes me appreciate those soap bubbles even more.
God ding it.
:)
Više nikad neću kupiti majicu koja mi se ne sviđa.
I to je oslobađajuće.
A faks?
Doma.
A posle?
Ko zna.
S kim?
Bogtepitaj.
Budućnost?
Glowing, glimmering and ever-expecting.
