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August 18th, 2009
01:26 am - Evangeline T. Ophal
Why, the hell, does he torture her? And why does she torture herself? They are bond together by the cruel fate. If you believe in such.
He is in pain, and it hurts her. He tries to drown her, and it hurts. She says she won't die, and he doesn't want her anymore. But when they are together, none of it ever mattered. There is a sparkle. There is a high that no weed can offer. It's the gift of the god to the cursed, to make up for their suffering. Something so special, it can never die, it's immortal. I am immrotal.
I am so high, high on the wind that gently touches every pore on my skin. A skin that has been burnt down so many times. It resembles me. You know I hate mirrors. But I do love the wind. The way it licks my fingers, plays with my hair...I could dance with him all night long. And I do. I'm extatic and euphoric when I feel the wind under my clothes and everywhere on my body. Every molecule, like she said.
It's one of the most beautiful meanings on Earth.
I breath fire, so he can feel it inside me. He likes it so much, I'm almost scared. Liquid fear runs from me to him and increases both heartbeats. There is a sparkle, and everything goes dark, just the way we like it. I loose my molecular cover, he becomes free beside me. And we are one full energy that floats through space and time. None if it ever mattered.
Her heartbeat stops for a second to listen to his. They drawn in their own blood. They are apart, in the cold reality, which they never wanted to create. Fire! It is consumed and devoured by water completely, like their liquid souls. A teardrop touches the ground, siltently. Because silence matters, in this one moment of fate and lust. But it is crushed, destroyed, simply broken by screams from the inside. Everything is, every single perfection.
She has lost the ground beneath her, her Earth that kept her connected to life. And he is gone undergroung long ago. All things considered, he was still with her till the end. Her and no one else. They are apart now in this bloody cold world. And she hates him as much as she loves him. She would follow him, but she can't. A small pile of sand sleeps peacefully in her palm. The only peaceful thing left. The pulse will be rushing again, another time. Sand hits the ground.
She dies, he dies, it's all the same in the end. It doesn't matter who'll go first. There is only love, hate and life.
Poets will verse, the Sun will rise once again, and lovers will die after a life of suffering. I am the prophet of the modern society, because I aknowledge the past.
See you at sunrise. There is still only love, hate and life. Always remember to make enough trouble to have no regrets.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://klab.lv/img/mood/classic/sick.gif) sick
Current Music: Joe
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August 16th, 2009
08:06 pm
I admit I was wrong. Being alone truly sucks. There is nobody to talk to, nobody to listen to and, most importantly, nobody who'd care. It's aweful.
Edit: I want that "Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind" memories erasing thing.
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July 31st, 2009
11:16 pm - Tru Blood
South American vampires rule!
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July 28th, 2009
09:10 pm - Yeah, same question
Klau, Rīgā vispār ir kāds lesbiešu bārs?
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July 10th, 2009
01:51 am
And it felt like the city belonged to us, as I jumped along the fancy stones on my heels and held on to his elbow not to fall down. The rain was our song, and all the people were gone. Nothing ever feels as good as this shared moment of freedom.
P.s. Dear darling sister, I still miss you.
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July 7th, 2009
01:24 am - I claim to be sane
It just came into my mind that if I had to think more about what people think of me, I would most probably realize how much they must hate me or even worse just not care about me. I am not a friendly "hello" person, sometimes not a very smiley person, I do not know how to say the right thing, as I do not even have an idea of what the right thing is in each situation. Sometimes I am smart enough to remain silent, sometimes I say the wrong thing, not even meaning anything offensive, even though it always ends up like that anyway. It is sort of difficult to be nice to people for some funky unknown reasons. My hugest sin, however, is respecting other people's privacy too much, including their names which I sometimes do not even bother to remember. I do not use the names, because they might not like it or the sound of it (like I hate mine being pronounced over and over again), I also leave introducing themselves to the selves, because their name and more importantly their choice do not belong to me. I do not attack people with random questions like "Greetings, dear sir, may you comment on how it's going?" just because we share an elevator or live in the same house. I respect other people's privacy. Also, maybe I am holding on to the "Don't do to others what you don't want them to do to you" golden rule a slightest bit too much. In that case, I must be officially weird. Should I change or should I stay?
So, when does a person become polite enough to be percepted as rude?
For all of the above, I have been yelled at since early childhood. And not even that could change me. They actually said I was wild in the bad way. In fact, I am not polite at all, maybe I am just so out of my mind that I fear the ones like me, the mad people, who could suddenly start screaming at you for no obvious reason. The sad part being - you can rarely tell just by how they look, but something more will be too late. But I, I just went from wild to polite and then...to insane.
As my season fades, I curl up in a fancy armchair across the window with a double coffee and my four warm sweaters, and I say "Hello, Winter", because the Ice Queen deserves more than my politeness and less than my fear. This painting will be impossibly private.
Why? 'Cause of the air resistance.
Current Mood: Clean
Current Music: Katatonia
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July 3rd, 2009
June 23rd, 2009
June 19th, 2009
11:52 pm
It's just not fair, that I can feel other people's pains, sorrows, joys, loves, excitements etc. so clearly. Empathy is not fair. I feel like it takes away part of my own feelings and emotions, like I get resistant to my own stuff to feel others' stuff more vividly.
What's the use of such ability anyway? To make me dislike being around people? If they already feel it, then why should there be another person who feels the same thing? Be gone books and movies, and parties, and social events, and people at all. Ok, one can stay.
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June 14th, 2009
12:52 am - A first
Wohaw, I think I just had some bit of warm feelings for a spider for the first time in my life.
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