петък, 6 август 2010 г.

Kylie Minogue "Confide in Me"

There's a land out there...

A land - entirely populated by mental images we have created.
Of people we've known.
Of people we've later met.
Of people we've yet to meet.
Of people we're not going to meet.
                    
They live there their silent lives. Each individual serving only one purpose.
To allow us to speak.
To allow us to say the things we couldn't say,
                                                   we didn't say,
                                             we shouldn't say.

We're a professional you and I. A professional wastebin for emotional garbage.
We should know how it's done. How to procure the services of one such as us.
How to use their services best.
But we don't.

So we create those people. We talk to them, with them. We listen to what we have to say to ourself.

There's a land of mental images out there.
A land that exists solely because of our silent shouts, hisses and speeches.
Every hit we never threw.
Every spiteful comment held behind out teeth.
Every "I love you" that was ever hidden.

A land of voiceless screams.

One day we may not need this land.
One day we may always say what we think.
Wether because we've grown as shallow as we want to be,
                                             or as open as no one should be.
But until that day there's only this.
There's you, there's me, and there are shadows.
There's always someone to confide in.

We can always have our voiceless screams.

__________________________________________________________________________________
                      *To be edited in days or years.*

петък, 2 юли 2010 г.

Live "Run Away"

It's warm.
There's a boulevard on our left.
Traffic.
We don't see it.
We don't hear it.

There are trees, grass and flowers on our right.

And then there's the road in front.
Long.
Straight.
With a sunset high above it.

We grab the strap of our bag an light a cigarette.

There's nothing else in this world.
Just us, the road ahead and that beautiful sunset.

We start walking.

Forward.

Always forward.

Chase the sun.

събота, 22 май 2010 г.

Placebo "Post Blue"

I remember those initial weeks of intoxication.

We told her truths. She answered likewise.
We'd meet her in secret, hide her from everyone...
She didn't want our partners to know...

Intoxication.
Bliss.
It was all so special.
So surreal.
So... Addictive.

Her embrace and her kisses.
Thieving. Stealing Time's most precious of moments...
Struggling, hiding, lying, knowing, fighting, caring...
Never sharing...

We broke the back of love for her.
We broke the back of love with her.

And in the end - We broke it All.

четвъртък, 11 март 2010 г.

Tsuneo Imahori "Divine Decision"

Cold dark night in the small town.

Near Her house.

Running.

You keep me silent.
All is silent, save for our footsteps and a dog, barking wildly from somewhere.
You tell it to shut up.
Quietly.
It does so.

Running.

The sound of feet hitting the ground.

She asked us to go get Him.
He'll help her. We know.
You can't.
And it seems that I can't either.

Running.

You ask yourself why she's stuck with us.
Why she can't be with Him.
Why it's only He, who can help her when she's down.
Who can help her pull herself together.
Make her smile.

I asked why you're doing this.
Why we were running.

"Because she needs Him."
That was your answer.
That was your only reason to fetch Him for her.
OUR only reason.

And we kept running.

сряда, 10 март 2010 г.

5'nizza "Новый День"

Warm.

Summer.

Walking through the park, the sun's rays find their way through the branches.
The light is a soft orangey-yellow.
The grass is a soft green.

Warm.

We are going to see her this evening.
It's a new day today.

Warm.

The sun's rays have finally made their way through our skin and spirit.

So warm.

неделя, 21 февруари 2010 г.

Madonna "Erotic"**

Sweet, gentle darkness.
A stray moonbeam coming from somewhere and ending nowhere.
Tall trees and taller shadows.
Her warm skin.

You whisper something in her ear.
I don't remember what, but it must have been lustful.
She bites our neck and holds us tighter.

Warm breath.
Flaming eyes.
Soft hair.

We claw at her.
We bite back.
We lick her skin.
We embrace her tighter.
We kiss her.

This is what freedom tastes like.

_____________________________________________________


** "Erotic" is a different version of the song "Erotica", which comes out as a single, accompanying the "Sex" book.

сряда, 17 февруари 2010 г.

KoЯn "Tearjerker"

The room is dark.
The only light is coming from the dimmed display of the stereo. It makes everything it somehow manages to touch seem eerie, ghostly, pale and surreal. The darkness seems to be trying to eat away all traces of this pale light.

It's Her room.
Were sitting on Her floor.
For once - you are at a loss for words.
So am I.

We somehow manage the strength to reach the stool and lean on it.
Our trembling fingers grasp the remote and point it at the stereo.
Track 14.
We somehow manage to press play, and collapse on the ground.

We want Her to hear the song.
Hear the lyrics.

We want Her to understand.
To feel, like I do.

She just sits there on the bed.

She pays no attention to the song.

There is no other sound but the stereo.
There are no other words.

You've lost the remainder of your strength.
You can't stop my tears any more.

The song ends.

Silence.
Darkness.

понеделник, 8 февруари 2010 г.

Broove "I'll see you again someday" ***

Morning.
The sun is slowly rising.
It's cool, but not cold.
Everything is covered in snow.
Everything seems to shine.

The light is the colour it was, when we were kids - soft and golden.
It's so calm.
So quiet.
The snow gently crunches under our feet.
The fresh air fills our lungs.

We smile.
We used to smile at these mornings when we were kids too.
We don't have a care in the world.

Just a golden morning and a white, puffy road ahead of us.


_____________________________________________________
*** The song is from Newgrounds' audio portal. I tried linking to it, but it seems the author has taken it down. I still have it on my MP3 player and on my PC. You can find it in one of Newgrounds' flash portal submissions. I believe it was "Colour my heart", but I'm not sure.

събота, 6 февруари 2010 г.

Simon & Garfunkel "The sound of silence"

We were sitting on the cold slab behind the wartime memorial.
It was too quiet - you could hardly even hear cars in the distance.
There was no one around - just the ever-green trees, the stones and the statues.
We were smoking our umpteenth cigarette, looking at the dirty rectangular hole in front of us, that was once, long before we were born, a fountain.

I was shouting my lungs out, but no sound could escape our lips.
Just the blue-grey smoke, reminding us to breathe.

You were going over all the telephone numbers again. There was no one left to call.

We don't like the rain - you and I.
Yet at at that moment...
We wished for rain.
For the first and last time.

The sky was clear and the sun was shining.
The day was bloody wonderful.

петък, 5 февруари 2010 г.

Michael Jackson "Ghosts"

A pub.
Dimmed lights. Smoke. Rock music flowing from the speakers. Dark wooden benches and huge tables.
A truly huge pint of beer in front of us, covering someone's writing on the worn-out wood.
Our closest friends around us.
The place is a sea of long hairs, black clothes, spikes, chains and loud voices.

You look at them. You try to follow the conversation.
You smile at their jokes and make witty remarks.
Your attention sometimes drifts to the decorations around us.
You think the fake spider-webs are a nice touch.

I'm looking across the pub.
There they are - behind a table at the other end of the room.
That zombie of a man is trying to look alive.
He holds her. He smiles. He kisses her.
All because we're there.
We are the only reason for him to try and look human.


But you and I - we know.
Tomorrow she'll call.
Tomorrow she'll come to us again.
Tomorrow she'll be ours again.
She knows it's just a show. Just a play he puts up.
That's why she keeps coming to us.

You take out a cigarette and light it.
I place a highlighter and a piece of paper in your hands.
I force you to listen to my dictation.
We write the fucking bastard a poem he'll never read.

Eagle Eye Cherry "Save Tonight"

4 AM - the coldest, darkest hour of the day.
It's the end of summer. We're sitting on a small balcony, the girl sits on our lap.

You notice the street below is dirty and many of the buildings around are unfinished.
The chimneys on the finished building over there remind you of Easter island.
The sky is clear, you can make out the stars easily through the city's smog.
You wonder how many cigarettes you have left.
For a short moment you think of the one that hurts us - of the last chance you will give her tomorrow.

I don't notice any of this.
You told me it's chilly, but for me - that's just an excuse.
To pull her closer and to hold her tighter.
I seek her warm lips.
I caress her hot skin.
I smile at her.

There is beauty in this stolen moment.
It's intimate. It's sincere.
It will never happen again.
But now... Now it is.

She plays us a fitting song.
She sees us off at the bus stop.
No goodbye kiss.
No "I'll miss you."

None needed.