четвъртък, 15 декември 2011 г.

Maroon 5 "The Sun"

A misty night.
Autumn in December.
Walking down the huge street lit by bars and christmas decorations.
We pass a bunch of people working on a tiny gas-powered RC car.
A huge and shiny jeep pulls over. A pretty lady in a glistening white fur coat exits the car.
There are people entering and exiting the bars.
People smiling and looking sad.

But no. Those are just pictures.
There's only you and me and the music.
The long, straight, wet street.

Yet somehow not so lonely.
Well that's new.

Who knows, maybe tonight we really are just several miles from the sun.
Smile and walk on.
It's what we do best.

сряда, 31 август 2011 г.

Black Light Burns "Cruel Melody"

It's dark.
The only thing shining is the monitor.
It's flooding the room with what looks like a cheap bootleg of moonlight, manufactured in some child-abusing sweatshop thousands of miles away.

We are looking at a picture.
A picture we wanted to have many years ago.
A picture we're glad we didn't have back then.

You reach for our chest.
You feel around for the gap.
The hole in me.
From that huge chunk I ripped off and gave away.
A piece we shall never regain.
A piece that will never be replaced.

But we live on.
We want to run away.
To fly away.
To go there.
But we stay.
And live on.
Ankou shall have to come another day.

четвъртък, 21 юли 2011 г.

She Wants Revenge "Animal Attraction"

There she was.


Radiant like a little sun in the summer twilight.

This rush is beastly.
Like a run through the primal forests and deserts of this earth.
The cheerful, playful pounce of a tiger.

And you know what?
This animal thing...
There's nothing wrong with it.

Anne Trolle/Peder "White Lilies"

Summer night.
The room is full of smoke, the radio still playing...

Your bodies glisten in the yellow light.

You look at her.
She smiles.
Her eyes are sly, playful, almost arrogant.
With a sparkle of nearly maddening freedom.
She looks like a cat that has just chased it's prey into a corner and has finally enjoyed its taste.
Tired... relaxed... yet ready to pounce again.

You light a cigarette.
You take a deep breath.
Life is rushing through our veins.
It's intoxicating.

събота, 21 май 2011 г.

Farin Urlaub "Augenblick"

Grey. The world was fucking grey that day. As if to make it all feel so much more unrealistic.
The sky didn't fit that day. And yet I remember it was grey.

We'd gone with Her to the beach, to get the towels. It wasn't a beach day - everything seemed to be too grey.
And then we saw the pier in the distance.
And hand in hand we walked to the pier and to the end of the pier.
One could feel the salty spray of the waves...
The smell of sea and rain...
The noise of  the forces of nature...
Drowning everything away.
The rest of the world fades...


A hug.


Her hair flying in the cool breeze


A kiss.


The endless blue-greyish horizon in the distance.


I remember...





сряда, 11 май 2011 г.

Metisse "Nomah's Land"

There is a moon high above me.
Bigger and brighter than you could have ever seen it.
A myriad of unknown, unseen, untouched constellations.
And the blackness of empty space.

And yet...

You can see it slowly fade away.
You can trace the line of the sky and see it slowly grow from black to purple and from purple...
To the deepest, brightest blue a sky can ever be.
And then you see the sun.
This enormous, bright, rejuvenating orb of pure, untouched, untainted light.

The sky is shining... Then you trace it to the clouds of mists... And then to those of thunderous rage.


It is all I want to do.
And yet...
We are godless you and I.
We have ourself. We have our compass and we have our bag.

We want forgiveness. We need to be forgiven.
Yet the only ones we ask it of is our selves.
The only one that can forgive is me.

But, alas...
In the vastness of this forest that we call out world...
In all its shrines and ruins.
In all its caves and rivers.
Even in the tents of wandering tribes.

There is not a single mirror.