|
|
| < | kolovoz, 2009 | |||||
| P | U | S | Č | P | S | N |
| 1 | 2 | |||||
| 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |
| 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 |
| 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 |
| 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 |
| 31 | ||||||
Dnevnik.hr
Gol.hr
Zadovoljna.hr
Novaplus.hr
NovaTV.hr
DomaTV.hr
Mojamini.tv
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
Blog.hr
Forum.hr
Monitor.hr
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
Once I wrote to feel that achievement after finishing a piece I was proud of.
Oh, do not get me wrong. It is absolutely fantastic to know that your eyes start tearing when you think of me, and of how soon we will see each other. It is absolutely fantastic, yes. What is not so fantastic is the fact that my darn computer started making those buzzing noises again, as if to remind me that some things never change. What is it that never changes? Well, in my case those would be the same familiar surroundings we grew up with, the same people and the very same events. The routine school day, which makes me extremely depressed once I reach the sofa at 2 p.m. after an extremely long walk in the fiery hot sun. The very same expressions, the boring conversations that seem to extend to eternity, the math class in that shitty-orange painted classroom. The P.E. class, a true suicidal trip, in a sticky, sweaty, old gym painted in all those yellowy blues. The same market every Thursday morning, the same old women smelling of sweat and chicken coops, the same woman on a pink bike. The same darn pair of jeans, the same café, the same two scoops of ice cream.
It’s not that I’m complaining, really. It would be quite unpleasant and utterly boring if all I ever did was complain.
I’m just curious. What’s beyond all this. And how do the other people, without the špagica these ones have followed for years, live.
It works, you know. It really does.
As I said, I’m way past complaining. Right now, what I’m trying to do is to figure out, how the hell is stubbornness being defined as willingness to change and to try new things, when simplicity is to stay put and ‘cling to the mast, spend your whole live living in the past, going nowhere fast.’
