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]
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" 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.
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.
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.
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"]
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.
