7.31.2010


— Обичаш ли ме?


— Винаги съм те обичал.

— Не. Обичаш ли ме точно сега. В този миг.

— Да — каза той и гърлото му се сви.

— Добре — забеляза жената. — Би било ужасно, ако не ме обичаше.




7.26.2010

You wanted it real
But can you tell me what’s real?
There’s lights and sounds and stories
Music’s just a part

Yeah, you wanted the truth
And then you said you want proof
I guess you’re used to liars
Saying what they want


7.16.2010

гледаш и слушаш хората как правят това, което ти би правил, но не ти стиска, защото не вярваш, че можеш.

и е късно.



7.11.2010

You are playing game again. Pure happiness. Great. It can cut down everything. Better than anaesthetic-cocain-high-purity-cocain-reefer-indian-hemp-LSD-hallucinogen. Better than sex, blowjob, rave party, complex sexual relationship. Better than the butter on the peanuts. Better than Lucas, end of 2001. The dance of Marylin, and Schtroumpfette. Better than Lara Croft. Better than Jimmy Hendrix, than Armstrong. Better than the walk-around by Santa Claus. Better than Bill Gates, then the trances of Dalai-Lama. Better than the collagen on the lips of Pamela Anderson. Better than the drugs of Rimbaud, Morrison. Better than freedom. Better than life.