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Dec. 12th, 2014|04:05 pm |
Gaaju pa ielu un ieraudziiju kaut kaadus anarhistu bukletus izliktus aaraa. Ieeju iekshaa, prasu vai tas ir veikals, man saka: biblioteeka. Anarhistu biblioteeka, es dabuuju graamatu bez registraacijas, pret goda vaardu.
Ezoteeriskais iemesls, kaapeec es esmu Francijaa, ir taads, ka es cereeju kaut kur satikt savu dviinju liesmu un tagad es zinu, ka kaut kur shajaa pasaulee ir miilestiiba arii man un martaa es vinju satikshu, nezinu, varbuut tas jau buus Latvijaa. Tagad es varu tikai klausiities Placebo un domaat, cik dziive ir skaista. Es gribu satricinaajumus un asaras un tad es kljuustu labaaks. Kaa cilveeki peec kara.
"It was a dream, not a nightmare, a beautiful dream I could never imagine in a thousand nods. There was a girl next to me who wasn't beautiful until she smiled and I felt that smile come at me in heat waves following, soaking through my body and out my finger tips in shafts of color and I knew somewhere in the world, somewhere, that there was love for me." |
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