For Emma, Forever Ago

Song: Skinny Love
Artist: Bon Iver

***some advice: get the album!***

Come on skinny love just last the year

Pour a little salt we were never here

My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my

Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer



I tell my love to wreck it all

Cut out all the ropes and let me fall

My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my

Right in the moment this order's tall



I told you to be patient

I told you to be fine

I told you to be balanced

I told you to be kind

In the morning I'll be with you

But it will be a different "kind"

I'll be holding all the tickets

And you'll be owning all the fines



Come on skinny love what happened here

Suckle on the hope in lite brassiere

My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my

Sullen load is full; so slow on the split



I told you to be patient

I told you to be fine

I told you to be balanced

I told you to be kind

Now all your love is wasted?

Then who the hell was I?

Now I'm breaking at the britches

And at the end of all your lines



Who will love you?

Who will fight?

Who will fall far behind?

High as a kite

High as a kite I’m trying desperately to find Microsoft Office in my start programs menu. It’s no easy task, especially when you actually have something to put down. Like I was saying when you’re so out of it most of the time and you actually got around to being numb so maybe the next step is to actually be happy a little. Everything comes crashing down around you on a sunny Monday afternoon when you’ve got nothing better to do than order a pizza get baked and watch a few bad movies. Too bad they’re all following the American recipe. Love, family good will prevail. Even the worst comedies. The movie ends you get up from your chair and start to see the bits and pieces of your dreams flying around you in a whirl wind glittering in the Monday sun that comes through the shades of your living room. Some peaces look familiar but really, I can’t remember from witch dream they came. Now, being hollow, some things tend to resonate within when they bump into you. But nothing stays. An album from the 90’s, a cigarette and some really nice things. That’s all you’ve got. The walls around really look friendly once you get to know them.

T.S.B.

Cum ma zbat in mizerie, in patura sociala de jos, merg de obicei cu metroul, autobuzul etc. si nu regret nici macar o secunda. De multe ori este plicticos, fete obosite, miros de picioare, usturoi si shaorma, DAR ocazional este interesant. Ieri am ajuns sa fiu suprasaturat de tztze si buci (T.S.B.). Ori traiesc intr-un film porno si sunt doar un spectator (ceea ce e cam trist) SAU femeile aici in Romania sunt mult mai tarfe decat in restul lumii. Cata nevoie de pula sa urle in persoana lor pentru a se imbraca in halul asta? O bluzita de bumbac cat de cat mulata, materialul cat mai moale, cat mai alba si cat mai subtire, sutienul acasa si sfarcurile intr-o stare de erectie continua(si eu credeam ca barbatii sunt obsedati). Sa nu mai zic despre pantaloni… au ajuns sa fie doar niste chiloti dintr-un material mai gros. Inteleg ca este foarte cald, dar da-o in mortii ei de caldura! Asa o lipsa de inhibitii nu se justifica nici un Sahara!
Cu toate ca nu am putut niciodata sa inteleg violatorii acum incep sa-mi fie chiar simpatici. Faimoasa replica “si-o cauta” tinde sa fie 100% adevarata. Oricum ceea ce nu inteleg eu este de cata pula sa aiba nevoie o femeie? Refuz sa cred ca ele se imbraca asa fara sa stie ca atrag priviri sau sa nu stie ca li se vad sfarcurile, cracii, curu inclusiv pizda! Da, pizda chiar se vede! Cum poate o femeie sa isi ia chiar si la birou o pereche de pantaloni care ii intra in pizda si ii arata forma destul de exact. Ca tot am ajuns la tinuta office, trebuie sa remarc faptul ca aici la noi in ograda totul devine MULT mai vulgar. Pana si tinuta eleganta “office” au reusit pitzipoancele noastre scumpe sa o faca vulgara. Pantalonii mai sus mentionati au fost primul pas, apoi au aparut fustele crapate pana la crapatura si camasile albe descheiate pana la mijloc totul cu o garnitura de sutien negru. De ce se mai obosesc sa se imbrace? Oricum deja stim ce e acolo, cum, cat si in ce fel! E inutil. Mai bine facem pe strada cabine de futut. Ca sa nu ne mai stresam cu vrajeala si stransul ciorapilor de pe jos cand aduci pe cineva acasa. Femeia iese in pula goala din casa, se plimba asa pana cand vede armasarul dorit, il trage in cabina, il fute si ii da drumul iar in salbaticie. Eu consider ca am avut si am o viata sexuala destul de normala si activa (recunosc ca in ultimul timp ceva mai slab dar nimic ingrijorator) si totusi am ajuns sa imi aleg un punct din peretele din fata pe care sa-l intimidez cu privirea pana trebuie sa cobor. Cand tot timpul in jurul tau se petrece un film porno cum poti sa-ti pastrezi calmul? Mie chiar nu imi mai ardea de bla bla ham ham, chiar imi venea sa le iau la palme si suturi in cur pana se transforma bluza in pardesiu.
Romancele in proportie de 90% “este tarfe”! Am zis!
Di ind.

Salty sweet pus

They’re there, healing then opening up again. Sometimes like a bad child I open them up myself again and again. I live with them every day. I’m not ashamed. But I will always hate them, I’ll try to make them heal thousands of times and then open them up again. For I am nothing without my wounds.

Netu' face minuni

Sau mai bine zis le atrage... Ca simplu spectator ca al fenomenului internet in Romania de la inceputuri si pana acum, am inceput sa constat un declin in calitatea oamenilor care-l folosesc. Inainte cu toate ca foloseam "Mirc" si nu existau bloguri, poze, profile, s.a.m.d. intalneai mai la tot pasul oameni ok, puteai sa schimbi o vorba orcand cu mai oricine. Acum in schimb, trebuie sa caut zile intregi un singur om ok. E deja frustrant. Probabil ca din acest motiv sunt la moda blogurile. E atat de greu sa gasesti pe cineva cu care sa vorbesti incat incepi sa vorbesti singur. Acum ca internetul a inceput sa fie accesibil si in mediul rural cu 3g-ul si toate inventiile sunt cu adevarat fericit. Nu numai ca trebuie sa evit in fiecare zi zecile de tzarani de oras, acum trebuie sa evit si "the real thing". Asa nu!

Shit in the playlist.

While looking around in the playlist for a song about shit... I typed "shit" in the jump to file menu in winamp and guess what? Not much of a surprise, I stumbled upon Lissie - Bright side and Reactor - Feeling the love. And people say I'm an unhappy person... I wonder why?
Here take a look:

Where’s my transformer?

Childhood. Remember? I do. Also I remember a little kid who wanted a transformer toy. He asked his mom: Mommy can I please have a transformer? Please, please, please!!! All my friends have emmmm… And I want to play with them. His mother answered: “It’s either your toy, or food.”