неделя, 29 януари 2012 г.

Sugar & Pasta

Good morning to everyone, or to noone, or just to the one that secretly reads this! Good morning to everyone who reads this. It's 11:11 and I just ate some pasta with sugar from a plastic box. If anyone from my flatmates saw me doing it they would be looking at me if I was some weirdo. So I went out last night and I didn't have a single drink. And it was okay. I broke my legs from dancing and it was okay. Curiously I have a headache now and I can hear the blood rushing to my ears, as lf I was drinking.
It's a regular morning for the student halls in England. If I look up from my window I see grey clouds and It's deadly silent as it is a ghost town. But I don't really mind and I don't really care. My spotify playlist makes me sick. The playlist on my mp3 player makes me sick. That's why I'm listening to Antonio Vivaldy and i really hope he wasn't gay. Now I moved to eating  an apple and holing it in my right hand as if I was some well-know ancient Greek philosopher, while thinking about existential problems:
What is happyness? Does destiny really exist, or everything is just one huge, random quensidence? Is there such thing as eternal love? Should I get a tattoo? Is there such thing as love at first sight? Is the power of the thought really that powerful? Hm, do you think that God has special plans for me? "Bullshit!" you'll say. But it's not.
What I know for sure is that alience exist and that you are the one who gotta make things happen. I just know that the univerce has certain plans for us and we meet certain people for a reason. It's like a neverending potencial of experience and energy that we receive every day. Just like the education system at universities in England. They give you the information and sometimes They introduce you to the right people, but it's up to you to sit on your ass, work hard, do your best and just make things happen.
So I smile at you today, I smiled at you yesterday and I'll smile at you tomorrow. Just don't be a jerk and I'll keep smiling.

събота, 21 януари 2012 г.

Ти не знаеш.

Ти не знаеш, но аз ти се усмихвам. И на зелените ти очи се усмихвам и на хвърчащата ти руса коса и на хубавите ти обувки. Усмихвам се на силния ти глас и на бялата ти кожа и на онова дивото, дивото в очите ти. Но най-много се усмихвам на пръстите ти- преплиташ ги в моите и аз съм твоя. За един миг, само за един. И нищо друго няма значение, всички са сенки, а музиката вече не я чуваме.
Ти сигурно не помниш. А аз се питам, не си ли просто плод на измъченото ми въображение? Не, не си. Истински си ти.
Ти вече си забравил...и аз ще забравя скоро. Но  аз знам, че ще се срещнем пак и ти отново ще преплиташ пръсти в моите.

До скоро.