Don't cripple my chance of seeing my own ignorance. It might fully fit into my narrow perspective but despondent I plead not to forget about it.
People say that ignorance is bliss. I refute for it is equal to anguish and distress to me. Ignorance of ignorance is the real blessing since it is only then when one does not realize his own incompetence. And only when you cannot completely understand how others perceive you, what life is all about, all the injustices and aches, what you ought and want to be - only then you could be blessed with ignorance. Otherwise you're just ignorant.

Filth

Filth.

Neither drizzle that moistens the grass,
Nor rain that wets the ground,
Can cleanse; that lechery will last
Until the cure is found.

Neither sun that brings the light;
Nor rays that light one’s eyes
Can purify and kill the spite;
Since mind has brought the cries.

To extinguish evil, unforgiving,
means to slay one’s breath;
For as long as human’s living,
his heart is longing someone’s death.

A darting fear — a pomp — a tear —
a waking on a morn
to find that what one waked for,
inhales the different dawn.
Emily Dickinson

Radiohead - Creep [movie:Happily ever after]

When you were here before,
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel,
Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fuckin' special

But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here

I don't care if it hurts,
I wanna have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice
when I'm not around
You're so fuckin' special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here

She's running out again
She's running out
She run run run run...
run... run...

Whatever makes you happy...
Whatever you want...
You're so fuckin' special-
I wish I was special..

..But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here

I don't belong here...

The Kooks - I want you back

Take me back to the place where i
loved that girl for all time;
Why must life just take away
every good thing one at a time?

I want it back
well, yes, I want it back;
Yes, I want you back,
Please, give it me back
'cause I want you,
but i can't let myself love you.

Losing belongings... it's not always a matter of being careful

Bad habits - everyone has them. (I think so)
I sometimes hold something and place it mechanically somewhere, forgetting where I've put it afterwards; sometimes even forgetting that I ever put it anywhere and/or ever holding it. I'm occupied with something, not realizing I am holding it, and then, BAAM--- where did it go?
Every time it happens, it pisses me off; I'm annoyed with myself; The last thing I lost is my phone... so I wrote it a poem.


One & Only
fate separated us…

Oh, my one and only,
you'd been here
when i was feelin' lonely
and had to shed a tear;

we'd had fun, we'd been close;
but now as you're gone
frustration and irritation arose
‘cuz i've lost you, my one&only phone.

Feeling much better now!:) Have a good night.
>p.s. -> http://theoatmeal.com/comics/literally
http://www.sharenator.com/A_couple_random_funnies/

The Last Shadow Puppets - I Don't Like You Anymore

I don't like you anymore
You've fallen for the faux again
Enticed me
for a second time today
Only for me to realise the same

I don't like you anymore
You're cracked and your face changing
You're going down the old route
But I can't let you repeat, repeat it again
The sound of your voice
Is piercing my patience
As it seeps on through the midnight
corridors

Love this song, so full of disappointment, frustration, irritation.

I Would I Were a Careless Child (Lord Byron)

I Would I Were a Careless Child

I would I were a careless child,
Still dwelling in my highland cave,
Or roaming through the dusky wild,
Or bounding o'er the dark blue wave;
The cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride
Accords not with the freeborn soul,
Which loves the mountain's craggy side,
And seeks the rocks where billows roll.

Fortune! take back these cultured lands,
Take back this name of splendid sound!
I hate the touch of servile hands,
I hate the slaves that cringe around.
Place me among the rocks I love,
Which sound to Ocean's wildest roar;
I ask but this -- again to rove
Through scenes my youth hath known before.

Few are my years, and yet I feel
The world was ne'er designed for me:
Ah! why do dark'ning shades conceal
The hour when man must cease to be?
Once I beheld a splendid dream,
A visionary scene of bliss:
Truth! -- wherefore did thy hated beam
Awake me to a world like this?

I loved -- but those I loved are gone;
Had friends -- my early friends are fled:
How cheerless feels the heart alone
When all its former hopes are dead!
Though gay companions o'er the bowl
Dispel awhile the sense of ill;
Though pleasure stirs the maddening soul,
The heart -- the heart -- is lonely still.

How dull! to hear the voice of those
Whom rank or chance, whom wealth or power,
Have made, though neither friends nor foes,
Associates of the festive hour.
Give me again a faithful few,
In years and feelings still the same,
And I will fly the midnight crew,
Where boist'rous joy is but a name.

And woman, lovely woman! thou,
My hope, my comforter, my all!
How cold must be my bosom now,
When e'en thy smiles begin to pall!
Without a sigh I would resign
This busy scene of splendid woe,
To make that calm contentment mine,
Which virtue knows, or seems to know.

Fain would I fly the haunts of men--
I seek to shun, not hate mankind;
My breast requires the sullen glen,
Whose gloom may suit a darken'd mind.
Oh! that to me the wings were given
Which bear the turtle to her nest!
Then would I cleave the vault of heaven,
To flee away and be at rest.

Lord Byron, (George Gordon)

Physical Imperfection?

Why do people look so closely at physical flaws these days? Even I, myself, do it occasionally.
There are so many things that can help you alter/improve your looks - make-up, plastic surgeries, clothes, accessories and many more.
I came upon some website, where people were arguing over whether it was right or not to 'go under the knife'. I really don't see the HUGE-slash-ENORMOUS difference between having a plastic surgery done and putting make-up on your face. I'm not against anyone or anything, I just think that everyone has the right to choose for themselves.
Here's the link: http://www.lovelyish.com/733684392/5-reasons-i-would-never-get-a-boob-job/?page=1


*yes, they used the f-word. Yes, more than once; and, yes the b-word is there too. Don't judge.
p.s. I should add that it's pointless to argue, especially on the internet; ps.2 : i posted the link to show that random things don't just pop up in my head (at least not always) and something/someone is the reason I ask myself questions about a particular thing and go over and over through the same issue, unable to solve it; the sentence ends just now.
The real problem is if these people want what they want, because of outer influence; (friends; family; media..etc. I have written about that>>)

And while i'm still on this topic:
Patrick Wolf - the libertine -->



And in this drought of truth and invention,
whoever shouts the loudest
gets the most attention;
so we pass the mic and
they've got nothing to say except:
`Bow down, bow down, bow down to your God.`

Then we hit the floor,
and make ourselves an idol
to bow before.

Well I can't,
and I won't
bow down,
anymore...
No more.

When the authorities warn you of the dangers of having sex,
there is an important lesson to be learned. Do not have sex with the authorities!

You have to stay in shape. My grandmother, she started walking five miles a day when she was 60. She's 97 today and we don't know where the hell she is.
- Ellen DeGeners.

Contrary to popular belief, "Damn It" is not God's last name.
(Construction wall, Philadelphia, 1969)

Optimistic?

A friend has sent me this site: http://www.givesmehope.com/
I just checked it out. I think it's quite interesing and you should take a look. People can post anonymously and share their stories about good deeds they took part in or just witnessed. Sometimes sentimental, sometimes - something `bigger`; but always inspiring and touching.
It gives me hope:)


"Remember all that news about the earthquake in China?
Well I read this article about a little 6 year old who survived it without a scratch, so he ran back in to what used to be his school. He saved 3 kids.
When a reporter asked why he did this, his reply: `I was the hall monitor that day. It was my job.`"

"I took the 4 year old girl I babysit to the park today.
She wanted to swing, but there wasn't room so we went to do something else. A 7 year old boy got off the swing, walked over, and said "Honey, did you want to swing?"
All the kids moved over to make room for her.
Kids who include everyone GMH. "

Cliché

Even though this topic is so cliche that it couldn't be more trite than a hackneyed phrase, I'm going to write about it as long as I need to. [Yes, I'm that selfish]
And most of all I hate feeling like that. `that` = is equal to `love anxiety`, or more likely those little "obsessions" I experience sometimes. I have this bad habit of trying to`possess` things, which cannot be owned by anyone, for they're human beings. I let my mind dwell on something, and in my mind I can pretend to be happy, but sooner or later - I have to confront the facts of life - I can't have what I want; doesn't matter how much I yearn for it. The question is: 'Should you let go and show that you're strong enough to cease pursuing your 'unreachable goal', or too weak to do otherwise?'
I know this is of no use for anyone but me, so I'll post some funny pictures. (due to the low self-esteem of that post. how ironic, really.)

Dance Little Liar...

Arctic Monkeys
Dance Little Liar

I heard the truth was built to bend
A mechanism to suspend the guilt
Is what you are requiring still
You've got to dance little liar

Just like those fibbs to pop and fizz
And you'll be forced to take that awful quiz
And you're bound to trip
And she'll detect the fiction on
Your lips and dig a contradicion up

And the clean coming will hurt
And you can never get it spotless
When theres dirt beneth the dirt
The liar take a lot less time

I'm sure its clear and plain to me
It's not an alibi you need just yet
Oh no, its something for those beads of sweat
Yes, that we'll get you back to normal

And after you have dabbed the patch you’ll grieve
And then proceed to scratch the varnish off
That newly added calmness
So as not to raise any alarms too soon

And the clean coming will hurt
And you can never get it spotless
When theres dirt beneath the dirt

The liar takes a lot less
Time to decide on his saunter
Have you got itchy bones?
And in all your time alone
Can you hack your mind being riddled
with the wrong memories?


And the clean coming will hurt
And you can never get it spotless
When theres dirt between the dirt

Bright Lights

Sometimes it seems as if the sun can dispel the gloomy thoughts;
Sometimes, we should lock the door and keep the darkness out;
Because there is always hope;
And when it hurts, remember:

"No one can take it away from me
And no one can tear it apart,
because a heart that hurts
is a heart that works."
[Bright lights; Placebo]

The Last Shadow Puppets - 'My Mistakes Were Made For You'

My Mistakes Were Made For You
The Last Shadow Puppets

About as subtle as an earthquake, I know
My mistakes were made for you

And in the back room of a bad dream, she came
And whisked me away, enthused

And it's solid as a rock rolling down a hill
The fact is that it probably will hit something
On the hazardous terrain.

And we're just following the flock, around
And the in-between, before we're smashed to smithereens -
Like they were, and we scramble from the blame.
And it's the fame that put words in her mouth
She couldnt help, but spit 'em out
Innocence and arrogance intwined
In the filthiest of minds

She was bitten on her birthday, and now
A face in the crowd, she's not
And I suspect that now - forever the shape
She came to escape - is forgot
And it's alot to ask and not to sting
Give her less than everything
Around your crooked conscious she will wind.

'Cos we're just following the flock around
And the in-between
Before we're smashed to smithereens
Like they were, and we scramble from the blame
And it's the fame that put words in her mouth
She couldnt help, but spit 'em out
Around your crooked conscious she will wind
And it's a lot to ask and not to sting
Giver her less than everything
Innocence and arrogance intwined

I Will Possess Your Heart.

"I Will Possess Your Heart"
song by Death Cab For Cutie;

How I wish you could see the potential,
the potential of you and me.
It's like a book elegantly bound but,
in a language that you can't read.
Just yet.

There are days when outside your window
I see my reflection as I slowly pass,
and I long for this mirrored perspective
when we'll be lovers, lovers at last.

You reject my advances...
and desperate pleas...
I won't let you let me down...
So easily.
So easily.

You gotta spend some time, Love.
You gotta spend some time with me.
And I know that you'll find, love
I will possess your heart.
I will possess your heart.
I will possess your heart.

Science doesn't know everything.

I like psychology, because it helps us understand people. Sometimes I just sit somewhere and watch how people pass by, analyzing them. I don’t think they can be understood though.
There’s always a little mystery behind every honest person, a lie – behind every happy one; always a little hope in the wistful eyes, and a little sorrow in every lover’s glimpse, searching for their other half.

Another sleepless night

Art. It is beautiful..
Beautiful… And what is beauty? There isn’t a precise definition and it will be accurate if I agree that it is a relative term. We see the world through our eyes, thus it is different for everyone. Actually, we don’t see the world – we see its reflection in our minds. Picture yourself in a car, maybe waiting for something, because the engine is off. Its dark and it’s raining outside. You can see the traffic lights. It displays a green light, which is refracted by many different-shaped raindrops on the side window. Those raindrops reflect some parts of the light, not the whole of it, changing it somehow. Those raindrops are our thoughts, feelings, impressions and they change the image of the world we think we live in.

To reveal a secret

..silence

I was wondering whether I should share a piece of myself by writing a short story, whose plot would be one of my latest dreams. I felt excited and fascinated when I woke up, maybe a little puzzled by its meaning later, nonetheless, I thought you wouldn't be interested in reading such a thing, and chose not write it.
They say dreams are succession of thoughts, emotions and impressions, whom we're left with during the day, experienced through dreams.
I have experienced it, not you; I've dreamed it, felt it; you can't, it'll mean nothing to you, but words and sentences put in the right order, so that they can make sense. They won't bear the same meaning as they will for me, because when I'm writing the story I'll be recalling the dream, which is filled with feelings. Feelings you never felt. And now that I think about it, those 'pure emotions' are the main reason the dream impressed me that much.
And what kind of story will be one that contains nothing, but empty words and a poor, confusing plot? A bad one. A story whose characters will be strangers to you and their destiny won't be of matter. Because I'm not good at writing and I won't be able to make you less indifferent to them and, maybe, feel attached to them in one way or another. Because a good writer is the one who can make their readers pray, cry, laugh, fear; or in other words: relive 'the fate' of the characters.
So I'll just leave you with some quotes I like and I hope you will too, when you read them.

"The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you've said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That's the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller, but for want of an understanding ear." [Stephen King; "Different Seasons"; "The body"]

"Even if I'd known the right thing to say, I probably couldn't have said it. Speech destroys the functions of love, I think... If you speak to tell a deer you mean it no harm, it glides away with a single flip of its tail. The word is the harm. Love has teeth; they bite; the wounds never close. No word, no combination of words, can close those lovebites. It's the other way around, that's the joke. If those wounds dry up, the words die with them." [Stephen King; "Different Seasons"; "The body"]

Lovesick

Being lovesick is a bad thing. It makes our minds relate almost everything to the person who broke our heart. It consumes a lot of energy, and kills the chance of having any good ideas, which are not associated with that one person in some way.
In other words: Being lovesick sucks. Besides, there are more important things than that. [than having a fulfilling relationship with somebody, i don't say it's not important, i said it's not the most important thing, don't put words in my mouth young man/woman!]
Love sickness is (metaphorical) like when you haven't slept for days and you're used to the exhaustion and don't even pay attention to anything else, you only want one thing - to get some sleep - your whole being is begging for that, so the tiredness could go away, and you could return to your normal function; but you can't sleep now because the cops have arrested you for molesting children, first: luring them into your red candyvan, then seducing them with chocolates; moreover, sleeping in the questioning rooms has never been comfortable.

That's how lovesick people feel. Er, maybe except the last part.

Mornings,

Yes, I post things early in the morning, at 6 a.m. (And I'll regret it later on, when I get some sleep). Something just popped up in my mind while I was eating a toast. And really, the title has to do something with the other thing, but it's more like the picture I imagined - a peaceful afternoon, someone sitting in their room, reading a book, casting a glance from time to time to see what's happening outside. But it's only the beginning of one lonely life. Thus =>


YOU SHOULD GET USED TO LONELY AFTERNOONS.

My friend,
welcome to that world of mine
where comfort you can’t find.
And I think I can divine -
We both are bound to pine
with grief.

My dear,
Another spill from my drink -
another thought of you will sink
deeper and deeper into my mind
It’s not that I’ve been blind.
I knew.

My dear,
Your betrayal is my chain,
your happiness – my pain.
Anger, tears - sneaking to my heart
as, since you left me, I am split apart.
Irresistible you are.

My friend,
you’ll never fully understand my story.
and always tell he has achieved some kind of glory.
I’m neither sad, nor angry anymore.
‘Cause I avoid my feelings, unlike days before -
days of passionate betrayal.

My friend..,
bound we are to misery.

[Hint * this is the main character talking to her friend and to her beloved one, if you didn't catch it.] Oh, when I become so serious and all? (hint-lack of sleep) Hope you have a nice morning.

Society

Society. One will always feel smothered by the pressure that our society does. Pressure how? The "unwritten laws" are the main reason people can't be themselves in public and around others, they don't know well. Imagine if everything was acceptable and people did whatever they want. Not a brilliant idea, because I might have an urge to take my clothes off and shout in the middle of the town square. Not a nice view. [Even though I'm sure there IS a law, which doesn't let me do that, and thanks God.]
These unwritten laws affect the way we act at some point. Do we like what we like; or what we are told to? When you see a stranger, dressed in unusual clothes, do you ever stare at them or pass a glance? What is unacceptable? It really depends on the people around you. We hang out with people with similar interests, ideas, etc. to ours; or simply - people, with whom we have something in common. The problem is we can never find someone exactly like us, and that's why we can't indulge ourselves with acting the way we want to. Because we want to be a part of some group. For example, having fun for me, might seem to you like a boorish behaviour. (e.g. you don't like running around naked, I still don't know why.)
How to be a part of any group of people? Just look for people who are, more or less, like you and who don't mind the differences between people. (Even though one will always try to make the other more like them.)
Here comes society. You, and maybe your group, can feel comfortable or not with being a part of it. Each country has different morals and principles, thus you can either fit or not.
What happens when you don't fit? You have two choices: a) Care; b) Do not care. If you care, you try your best to adopt others' behaviour and then you feel bad. If you don't - good for you.
And what if we live in a sick society, with twisted ideals and superficial ideology? We kill the jews. (Joking, of course.) It was a rhetorical question, because I haven't found an answer yet. Who do we blame for all of this? The media, the politicians, the economy?
I don't have the right to judge anyone, I'm just questioning myself. [Oh, I'm so cliche.]
I hope to find my answer, sooner or later.

The Story of a drawing.

I like drawing. I don't do it that often, more likely, from time to time. And I admit I'm not really good at it [not that good at all].

In my opinion, the most interesting part of a drawing is its idea and meaning, if it has any.

Understanding any piece of art is the same as understanding the person whom it belongs to. Or, at least, a part of them, which they expressed throught their picture/song, poem, etc.

So, today I was drawing a flower. "Let's draw a flower!". But it looked to me like a nose, so I changed it to a human face. Then "Why don't I make her with her eyes closed?". Well, she looked unhappy "Oh, my, she's crying!" *drawing a tear, then some random circles*. "Oh, these circles look like bubbles! So she's in a lake or something.".. Then suddenly I realized: "O My God! She's crying, because she's drowning!". I felt the urge to draw a hand, so I did. And, last, but not least, i drew a heart-shaped necklace (it belongs to the drowning girl. I erased it afterwards, but never mind). And I finally got it: Girl A (the drowning girl) and girl B, which hand i just drew, were fighting over a boy, because girl A slept with girl B's boyfriend, and girl B wanted girl A to drown. (Still not confused?) Art is so complicated. :(

My point is that the story behind the artwork is the most interesting thing. The plot. The idea. Why did he/she did so and so? Maybe it means something, it's not just random combination of colours, words or notes or whatever. Or maybe it is, but there is always more than one possibility.

Just my thoughts. (:

a+c = who you are

I Was lying in my bed the other night, unable to fall asleep, doing some evaluation of my previous days such as were they of any use for my growing up as a smart/thoughtful/talented/etc. person. Lately, I've been doing a lot of things (e.g. reading, watching films, drawing, going out,..) so that I can feel a little more meaningful to myself, and not too worthless to the world. One idiot less. So, I was thinking and one simple question just came across my mind: "Who am I?" Not that I haven't asked that myself before. Actually, I have, a lot of times. But this time there was this feeling of self-unconsciousness.
So what makes one person unique? It's a simple formula: appearance (a) + character (c) = who you are. But what happens if you're improving (or trying to improve) your looks and personality, thus changing them. Therefore, I have no answer to the question above. And I can't find a definition to the word "Milena" in the dictionary.
So do I force myself to change something and don't feel comfortable doing the things I do, or do I do what my will says, barely improving the person I am. How do I end this post? Oh, yes. I hope I didn't bore you to death and you might find this post not that useless. (don't argue)

THE END

Еhm, well..

I don't really know how to start blogging, so I'll just post something I wrote.

SOON ONLY MEMORIES WE’LL HAVE LEFT.
(Devoted to my idol, Mariana)

A sparkle in a dark night,
This obscurity is light,
as you are here to guide.
So there is a bright side?

You lead and I follow
Even though the forest’s so hollow
I step with confidence
‘Cause you are here in the near distance.

We reach the castle and open the door
We get in, then I start to explore
But time is running and keeping the smoldering fear;
It’s growing, now that I know that the end is so near.

Get up.
Life awaits us, you can’t stay.
The Sun is shining with its blinding ray.

Get up.
Like a firefly you were the one that gleams.
Now I have to let go of my dreams.