Go. Away. Far, far away.

Never have I ever
Thought nor wished for forever
It's too distant
And I happen to love what is instant
You
You were a moment, too
A moment attractive
A state radioactive
And never have I ever
Imagined I'll find a moment so clever
Bringing me to you
I fought to believe it was true
And in the moment I started believing
You gave out the feeling
So wrong, so bad
From the best you became the worst I ever had
And never have I ever thought I'd give away my perfection so easily
So gladly
I want you out of my life so badly
Could you, oh could you please, disappear, baby?
Go, and never get back
Because I know, you'll make me black

"Save(?) me from myself, (Don't) let me drown"

It's probably no one else's fault but mine, for feeling this overwhelming desire for nothing and everything. And by "nothing and everything", yes, I do think of death. Or maybe it's life? Seems like I'm never gonna wake up knowing that one.
I never said I wanted to be awake at 2am, listening to the most dreadfully screaming songs on my playlist, where every high and every down of the heavy metal compositions is perfectly compatible to my heartbeat. I never asked for 2pm moments where I wish it was the am, so no one could see me while I 100 percent freely feel what I am feeling.

From this perspective, I know I'd be the worst of the bad girl culture, only if I was surrounded by different kind of people. I know for a fact I'd be the one who'd get tipsy, drunk and high first. I'd wear all black and ripped, I'd wing my eyeliner bolder, I'd have my darkest lipstick smuggled on daylight, cigarette never out of left hand, weekend never without an alcoholic rendezvous, partying always skyscraper high, motivation for being a non-reckless teenager forever low. In my head, I am. But everything out of it is the pure contrast. I wear black a lot but never too much, because I know the people around me would have comments. I drink occasionally and too rarely to be considered drinking. I start coughing like an old man just by sniffing the smoke, and I have never in my entire life seen any kind of drug or weed or pot, except on photos of the boys who are "that kind of cute". I never went to an actual party. And I have motivation for nothing but to be a little bit more reckless.
My friends, they are nice, they are the right kind of people to be around, they are the best, most loyal and caring people I have ever had a chance to meet. They despise all the things I secretly feel and could never imagine anyone of us being the person that was described few sentences before. Having them, it's guaranteed there's no danger of me being a bad bitch that I sometimes long to be. It's saving me.
But in this very moment, it's killing me.
I think too much and over think even more. Realize things that don't even have the base for being realized and see what's not there to be seen. I feel like there is a pressure on me, to always be decent. And I'm lost and greedy for freedom and just a press that easy seems unbearable. By knowing people too well, you get a blueprint of the way their brain functions stuck in your mind, and it's hell. You know exactly how they're gonna react, and read their mind, seeing opinions they were never asked for. You end up right every single time, every once in a while you risk your chances despite of knowing the actions that are to come.
Eventually, you get bored and turn to yourself. Just like I did long ago.
More and more often I find myself sitting, looking at everything at once and nothing at all. Maybe writing down carelessly what's on my mind, maybe being tired to do so. But never without music on full blast. It mostly coming from my headphones. Because, if played out loud, my music would give out way too much, and they would "realize" but never understand. And I've had enough of this world and it's lack of ability to understand. So, I play my screams and drown in them.
It used to be One Direction and cheesy lines of condolence, then Lana Del Rey and her tears of understanding. That could be played out loud. But then came a moment my mind needed something sharp to clear it up.
That kind of melody, it may told me life's worth living, it may sang about my darkest dark, it may gave away the secret I needed to hear. I don't know. Letting it come to me, we screamed altogether with my mouth staying strictly shut.
I guess the more screaming song it is, the more the mind has to scream about.
And if I started to give out my screams, the whole world, except the part who should, would understand why once upon a time I wished to end with whispers forever.

"Can't go home alone again, need someone to numb the pain"

I'm walking down this street, I know it way too good. The first bruises on my knees were made by kissing this pavement and I flew the first three feet with my bike on this road. Even though I never was a fan of any games that involved balls and/or running, I gladly did both on this very street. And I was happy, satisfied. Full of joy. Nevertheless if I was alone or had a group of friends to accompany me.
This is the place I always got back to. This is my home.
And now, while I'm freezing and my breath is visible once it gets outta my mouth, while my makeup is a bit messy and my feet tingly, while my headphones are on full blast and the blood in my veins has a visitor scientifically named CH₃CH₂OH, I feel some strange kind of emptiness. Not exactly in my heart, it's not even the one that is often to be found in my soul. But in the air surrounding me. In the sound of silence that I'm surrounded by.
I have returned home in these late hours alone for way too many times.
Like a joke, I always say I want a boyfriend because of the practical reasons: to have someone to buy you chocolate when you need it at 2am, to have someone who'll care your school bag when you've had to bring way too many books to carry, someone on whose jacket you can count on when you forget to wear your own, someone who'll always walk you home so your mom will let you stay out a little more. I guess all of these were the moments when through a joke I said the truth I didn't want to say clearly.
I need someone to guide me through the roads I already know, to watch me while I sleep in a hundered percent safe place, a shadow who'll be there when I'm afraid of harmless shadows.
Even though being a free, loneliness-liking spirit was my thing since I can remember, the time when I'm so full of myself that I'm in a desperate need for someone else has come.
I open the door, walk on the unfinished steps and enter my family home. Then turn left, right into my own warm, dim lighted, cozy heaven. Posters of my all time favorite musicians watch me carefully from the door and the ceiling, kinda sad, because they also know they're now not enough to make me feel loved by men.
I play the songs from that one band, that held that one concert, where I got to feel fireworks from that one person. Then, that one other rock band that that one person remembered me by. I can almost imagine he walked me home and lied down next to me, numbing this black hole that I feel.
And I continue to listen to the songs of the band which has a front man who that one person resembles of. The posters continue to watch me mimicking the face of that one person, when he watched me.
And all of them are fascinating. All of them know what to do.
Oh, but none of them are you.

And, that has to be my worst flaw.

I wish everything was happening the way I wanted it to. Sometimes, I lose my nerve because the smallest detail didn't end up the way I wanted it. Plans are being made, scenarios being precisely written, steps marked a long ago. And it won't stop.
No matter what's it about.
Lines and lines of exact expectations tumble through my head, day and night. And, the worst thing is, their main subject are the most abstract segments of my life.
I plan what'll I say when I see you, I plan how I'll feel and how will you react. I imagine, but end up being disappointed when it doesn't end up being like that. It's not expectations anymore.
And I hate it.
I tend to be chaotic and relaxed, but I fail miserably every single time. It's just, my wishes and dreams are so strong, they get sad when they don't see the light of the day.

A suspicious glance

It felt
As if it's hallucinogenic
It made me melt
A moment poetically photogenic
Smoke in my nostrils
Smoke in between your lips
Separating us, only a few fingertips
I didn't trust the truth
It never made a move
Never was a friend of my youth
Waited for it to prove
It never showed up
It never was seen
But it ended up being a movie scene
A look
A glance
An opportunity being mistook
A slow golden chance
Slow, like the slowness in you
When you did what you had to
Gently moving the look away
And that one in my mind will stay
Forever stuck
For a good night, for good luck
The way it sparkled
The way it sent off
Everything else to dark, set me free
The lights went off
Once you looked me
Like I was the only thing you ever, and forever, wanted to see

When the crowd freezes. When my hand touches yours.

The music was pounding, and, as cliche as it sounds, so was my heart. There was a possibility I'd see him. That boy who remembered me by something so special to me. And while my eyes searched through the crowd, I got more and more nervous.
That is, until they stopped on the sight of a cigarette being brought to a perfect small mouth.
I saw him, enjoying the happenings on the stage, the music floating around us, being one with the crowd. And, because of the way I am, my legs started moving straight forward without a second thought. The heart followed and the mind wasn't asked for an opinion.
People tend to seek beauty even when aware that the true one is not exactly real or touchable. They dig tunnels to find perfect diamonds, spend millions on outstandingly fine houses, travel the whole world and end up disappointed in the end.
Yet I found it right there, less then two feet left from me. While everyone was jumping and pushing, while rock sounds filled the small venue, while everything around me smelled of beer, sweat and smoke.
The way he stood there, his blue eyes half closed in the act of too deep concentration, his body calm, his head slowly moving to the sharp beat, his left hand mimicking the guitar moves, the ones he knows too well, the ones that brought me to him. The day before that, in English class, the teacher asked us what beauty is. I said the spark in someone's eyes while they do something they love.
I saw it in yours. When you felt the melody way to deep. When you looked at me. When you looked me in a way everyone around us would realize what was going on, easily. I saw it in your eyes you didn't want to turn away.
We barely spoke to each other. But then again, it wouldn't feel right. We were jumping and screaming the lyrics, and maybe 'cause of some other reasons. But, oh, when our hands accidentally touched, when the people in front of me pushed me right into you. That was more than I ever wanted. And those few times I looked back while you were still looking, even though I was aware of every single one of your glances. Those moments were something special. They were worth smiling for. I still am, and it has been five days.
Ah, and the end. That one moment which lasted for a lifetime. When I turned around and you were leaving. And I smiled, wishing for nothing more but a smile back. You wrapped your arms around my shoulders, pulling me close, letting me melt in your arms, even though I'm not sure you realized I did. Causing me to question myself if this was a hallucination caused by suspicious smoke which floated around me. I'm repeating that one in my head ever since. That was one hell of a firework you caused in me. In my head, my heart, my whole fucking system.
Just like the last time the same thing happened. Approximately, I counted, it'll happen for a month and two days.
For a month and two days, maybe, I'll feel that beautiful calmness I feel every time I see you. That is, until you start the fire and stop the world.

Sometimes it gets too lonely inside

Even when the room is full, even when everyone's laughing, even when I myself laugh so much my stomach hurts. Even then, it hurts. Or is it just empty?
It gets to me sometimes, the thought of how lonely I actually am. How lonely every single one of us is. You will never truly know you nor will you ever really be known by someone, and most definitely will never really know anyone, and that is the most frightening thing in the Universe.
I have my secret corners that I visit only occasionally, so rarely I often forget they are there. But oh, the times I do remember. I get to feel this overwhelming hole spreading through my veins and bones. Like a black cloud, so heavy and full of rain which never gets poured out.
And I close the doors, even all the windows of my mind. I do it so carefully and silently, no one ever finds out. As the time pass, I'm not even sure anymore I want someone to realize.
It's twisted, but a part of me enjoys the days I spend locked up in a dark cloud. It does, it does very much, it believes I am my true self only then. A thought so strong in my mind, even my little heart believes it.
And so I stand, watch everyone I love from above, from the side, from under them, whatever. I think about how lucky I am to have them, about how happy they are and will probably never be aware of that. It sends a smiley thought to my brain.
And then, I shall continue to live my black hole of a insidious life. Having an illusion of feeling too much yet deep down not caring at all. Being confused in my loneliness and being lost in my eternally strange world. Not seeing an opportunity to swim out of it. Not developing a wish to do so.

A short story of how the Sun loved the Moon so much, it died to let her shine every day

Our Earth is evolving around the Sun which is the center of the Solar system that is placed in a galaxy which finds itself located in an eternal space called Cosmos. That's the organization of everything that ever existed, and it has been like that for way too many millenniums. And, basically, that is the reason we are where we are and what we are. It all seems so plainly organized and so simple in it's complex appearance. Yet, looking at the small picture of a basic human life, it looks like an event full of handful spontaneous moments, where everything could go wrong anytime. Still, it won't change anything in the full picture of the world. It changes everything in one, even more eternal, place.
In a human mind of an individual.
I knew you for a very long time. We met shortly after the big bang who's product was myself. I don't even remember the moment our eyes met. I just remember you were there my whole life, always hiding in a corner, waiting for the right moment to shine. It seemed like your moment may never come. You were a star in my universe. But, just like the starts which shine the brightest on the clear night sky, you lost your sparkle right after it's shiniest moment.
I can say that we had something this world has never seen before, but then again, no matter how many love stories get to be written on Earth, there are never two same stories, so there's no point in saying that.
You kissed me like those kisses were the last thing we get to do, you touched my body and my soul like our lives depended on it. You made me believe my life is perfect, once you got your chance to let your rays get to me. You were my Sun, but you never knew how to deal with the fact that I was not a star which longed to sparkle. I was like the moon, and a part of me always stayed hidden. It is some kind of a romantic trait to have, but you didn't really think so.
You had a desire to change me, and I guess that's why they say how, in the end, too big opposites don't really attract. Your idea was to shower me with your light so it eventually got through me. You put so much effort but it wasn't something I knew nor wanted to appreciate. So, the moment you gave me your best, I ran away and you ended up like a fire ball which burns people if they get too close.
But, there is something I'm thankful for.
Once you realized me, you let me be me. And it's nice now.
We never see each other because we're too far away, but I always see a bit of your shine while I travel with my darkness. We're not so spontaneous anymore, but we fit in this complexly simple Universe. We are a perfect match, and I guess that's why we had to burn away.

Cheers to us, my truly heartbroken friends

It seems like this era we're living in romanticizes the idea of being broken way too much. If you're all smiley and look like you've never been hurt, you're hundred percent a shallow person. Teenagers tend to appear as depressed as they possibly can. They find a reason to be unhappy the moment they open their eyes in the morning.
And, the most popular thing, to praise the idea of someone else braking you. "It's not true love if they did not make you hurt like hell" their naive voices scream.
But, were they ever really heartbroken? I don't think so. Poor people, not even knowing what they're longing for.
They don't know how it actually hurts. Hurts, if you're lucky. Mostly, it leaves you lying on your bedroom floor, so lost you don't even know where you are, wishing you never get to feel again. You don't look for a person who'll fix you, you learn to handle yourself.
Heartbreaks, the ones that happen after those "big", "dramatic" and "passionate" love's do not teach you how to write good poetry, that's not what they're here for. They give you a free ticket for a field trip in some type of hell, yes, but that's something temporary. Yeah, there comes a moment when you get up from the mentioned floor and you know exactly what needs to be done. You feel empty and numb at first. You go cold through life, the first few steps.
Everything happens for a reason.
Don't try to act broken, don't ever wish for being lost, don't ever dream of a hurt heart, don't even think about acting depression when in reality you never had a reason to fake a smile.
I'm just saying, there's no need to fake that melancholy.
If I must say it like that, your heartbreak will come, sooner or later. Don't romanticize all that sadness, it's pointless. Honestly, you don't know shit about it. And no, you're not stupid for being happy in this crazy world. Just...realize, people, we're not going anywhere this way.

Reflection

Standing in front of the mirror
Sad, realizing you have to be your own hero
Smile fades away
Sad, that's all you have to say
In the mirror stands a little girl
Sad, she thought she'd grow up to be a pearl
You feel sorry for her
Sad, she used to be such a smiley girl
You ask yourself, how's this possible
Sad, nothing is impossible
Is it really you
Sad, that one is true
Physics approves, what you're seeing in the mirror, it is you
Be happy, there are plenty of things you can do
Be happy, just believe
Be happy, there's so much you can achieve
Be happy, just raise your sight and look around
Don't be sad, the right reflection will be found

"You're an angel. But then again, so was Lucifer."

You looked at me
In a way that it set me free
You made me believe
I achieved everything there is to achieve
You had a look
Which read me like an open book
You sparked a feeling
I never thought I'd need healing
You were so perfectly flawed
So I thought you were inside gold
But
You had a voice on your left shoulder
It made you dark, it made a border
You held a mask
Hiding your dreading task
You were everything I thought I wanted
Became I forevermore hated
Oh, how I wish you are just a stranger
Oh, how I wish I felt the danger
Oh, I should've realized you're too perfect to be real
Oh, I may never heal
Oh, how I wish you are just a stranger
From the beginning it was clear, now you became a fallen angel

"Missing you comes in waves. Tonight, I'm drowning."

What is the point of missing if you can't appear next to me right after I tell you that I miss you? Why do we still keep saying those words, regardless of the impossibility to change anything? It doesn't matter if you're missing a person who's thousand miles away or, even worse, a person who is right next to you, in most situations, you're powerless. You can just keep saying "I miss you" until you both give up on trying.
The difference between the two mentioned types of missing is that, when someone is far away, there's a chance they are longing for you, too.
Oh, but the ones right there, the ones you look, talk to and touch every single day, but in your heart, they appear much further than they could ever be. And, again, you're out of any kind of power to turn the situation around. If you fight for someone who doesn't want to be fought for, you lose yourself, if you let go, you JUST lose them. It's strange.
No matter how much passionate I am and how much I love ruining myself listening to everything my naive heart desires, I must say, it's true. Sometimes, no matter how much you miss someone and no matter how much missing them is killing you, it will make you feel alive again once you let go.

Music

Hi,

well, since music is very important in my life, even though I can't create any, I thought I'd share a list of my all time favourite songs (there are a few classical compositions, too). It would be incredible if everyone everywhere would hear those. I hope you, dear reader, do. Enjoy! :)

• Arctic Monkeys-I Wanna Be Yours
• One Direction-You and I
• The xx-Angels
• Lana Del Rey-Ride
• Kansas-Dust In The Wind
• Arctic Monkeys-Stop the World I Wanna Get Off With You
• Arctic Monkeys-Do Me a Favor
• Lana Del Rey-Black Beauty
• Depeche Mode-Enjoy the Silence 
• Guns 'n' Roses-November Rain
• Ludwig van Beethoven-Moonlight Sonata
• Ed Sheeran-Photograph
• Scorpions-Wind of Change
• Vile Valo & Natalia Avelon-Summer Wine
• Frederic Chopin-Spring Waltz
• Lana Del Rey-Summertime Sadness
• Aerosmith-I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing
• U2-With or Without You
• Celine Dion-My Heart Will Go On
• Adagio in Sol Minore
• Snow Patrol-Chasing Cars
• One Direction-Moments
• Arctic Monkeys-505
• One Direction-18
• Lana Del Rey-Old Money
• The Beatles-Yesterday

Um, yeah, it's a lot of songs, but every single one of them, and a lot more of them, has inspired me to do what I love doing the most. To write. I'll be kind of devastated my whole life because I am not gifted to create music or do anything with it except listen to it. But, I have eternity to enjoy it with my whole being. 

And there are probably a lot more songs which deserve to be here, but I can't remember at the moment, so I apologize to them. :) 

Also, this is the list with only American and British songs (and those few compositions), but since I live in Serbia, which has amazing rock music by the way, there's a same list with Serbian music on it. Maybe I'll share it one day. Till then, enjoy this one and thank you very much for visiting my blog!

Complications

I'm complicated. This is a phrase you probably heard way too many times. Because we're made to believe how complicated people are more worth. And everybody wants to be that.
But I've been living with that trait my whole life. Every simple thing becomes complex once it comes in my brain. Every emotion which can be put in one word becomes a novel similar to the novels written by F. Dostoevsky. It's draining my will and energy slowly.
That's one of the many reasons why I need you this much.
I need you to touch me, to look at me. I need to feel your breath on my tensed skin.
I need you, because you make everything so simple, so beautiful. And I've been needing it way too long.
I may appear the same like everyone else, I may appear a complicated-fucked up-bitch-wannabe. Yet, deep down, I only want to become what I am with you.
I want, just once in my life, to feel the beauty of simplicity. Like that time when you kissed me and everything made sense, or the time when we were lying on the forest floor in a tight embrace cuz I was too scared to sleep in my own bed.
Can that happen? Can you make it happen? Can I enjoy life truly, or will the cloud full of complications forever float above my tired mind?

Who are you running away from?

One slippery path
You make a step
In your mind it's all figured out
But in reality, you don't realize what life is about
Running from the sadness
Escaping the madness
Which makes this world
A hurt little bird
It can't fly
Yet it for sure won't die
You run from all the people
You run from all the mess
You run from the broken heart
You run from the people who tore you apart
So many reasons
So many excuses
It's all their fault
For making you sprint like a bolt
You seem on the right way
Until that one day
On your left shoulder appears an elf
And gently whispers
"Are you running away from everyone, or are you trying to escape from yourself?"

This small and sad country full of hopes

Svuda oko sebe, čujem večitu dilemu o životu u ovoj zemlji. Da li je voliš iako težiš da što pre pobegneš iz nje? I da li smo svi mi, koji budućnost ne vidimo ovde, toliko sebični da kujemo planove i o ostavljanju nam naše Srbije onda kad smo joj najpotrebniji?
I šta je, zapravo, ta Srbija?
Ja volim sve što me vezuje za ovo ovde. "Ovo ovde" je mesto gde sam upoznala najbitnije i najbolje ljude na svetu, mesto gde sam nastala i stasala, prvi put ogulila kolena i prvi put se zaljubila.
Ali, život koji nam je pružen je takav da nam pitanje "da li ja želim da i moja deca ovde stasaju?" iskrsne rano, otprilike u periodu kada naši vršnjaci u nekim drugim zemljama razmišljaju o žurkama i napijanju.
I ne znam da li želim.
Meni ništa nije falilo, možda zato što nas roditelji vaspitavaju da budemo skromni pa i ne primećujemo. Možda bude bolje. Međutim, jedno "možda" koje godinama visi u vazduhu nije dovoljno.
I šta je, zapravo, Srbija?
Ja bih stvarno volela da je ona ono što vidimo iz satelitskih snimaka. Da ima psihu koja se uklapa u sve njene fizičke lepote.
Ali nema.
Ona ima duboko utemeljenu prošlost, sumnjivu sadašnjost i labavu budućnost.
I koliko god mi svi tu prošlost voleli, i koliko god ona obećavala, nikuda nas nije dovela.
A mi, koliko god je voleli, nemamo više osnova da rizikujemo.
I možda smo slabići u očima predaka koji su se i borili. Borimo se i mi, ali ono šta nam je preostalo za osvojiti je isuviše malo i jadno, a nama je preko glave skromnosti.
Jer, uz ovoliko negativnosti, više nema ni smisla. Nama ništa nije jasno, niti se ko trudi da nam objasni.
Samo se nadam da ćemo tim begom, ako do njega uopšte stignemo, shvatiti nešto što ovde nismo. Bilo bi tužno otići i ne pronaći smisao. Al' avaj, kad je uopšte ovde nešto imalo potpuni smisao?

If I ever love you

Close your eyes and tell me what you see. I wanna be a star in your universe, the one that appears when you shut your eyelids too hard. I will wish to explore your mind while you trace your fingers down my spine, wishing I'd let you explore mine. It will seem like I'm hidden from you and it will drive you crazy, only until you realize all my secrets are being told to you when our eyes lock. I will demand you to sing my favourite songs to me, just because I know myself enough to know that's one of the ways to make me touch your skin the best way.
My innocent appearance will change in your eyes not when you see my naked body, but once you float into my naked mind.
And all those things that long time ago seemed so unreachable will then lay in your strong, bare arms and you will finally feel that one thing you wanted to know from the very beginning. That is, how I am only yours, and how I will never be anyone else's as much as I was yours in that sparkling glimpse of time.

"When the night has come, and the day is gone"

Šarm noći je n-miliona puta opisivan i isto toliko uzdaha mami svakodnevno. Već postaje kliše tema kojom se oduševljavaju patetične romantične duše. I sve što bih ja dodala bilo bi suvišno, izazivalo déja vu i okretanje očiju.
Ali ipak...
Svi mi volimo misterije. Kako Džon Grin kaže, toliko da pojedinci i postanu misterija. Imamo svoje tajne koje niko nikada neće znati. I svako od nas beži od neke male misli koja ima veliki uticaj na našu psihu.
Noću, kada se bez veštačkih pomagala ništa ne vidi, sve to izlazi na videlo.
Tada postajemo sami i svoji, što je možda nekome zadovoljstvo koje na svetlu dana i pred budnim očima sebi ne može da priušti. Sustigne nas sve od čega smo bežali ili pak privid slobode. Mislim, nema mesec tako bitno mesto u legendama o vampirima i sličnim stvorenjima ni za šta. I nije bez razloga ovaj odnos prema kasnim satima prenošen s kolena na koleno već vekovima.
Tada je tiho, dovoljno tiho da čuješ i ono za šta nisi znao da želiš čuti. I dovoljno ljudi spava kako bi bilo lakše izvršiti nešto što danju nije dozvoljeno.
Međutim, ja noć nikada ne bih menjala za dan. Ne bih da se sva buka svetlosti prebaci u moju slatkastu tminu. Onda više ne bi bila misterija već gola istina.
Posebna smo sorta mi noćni ljudi. Naše tajne se ne saznaju, već razumeju.
Pa tako i noć. Možda je bolje osetiti je nego ovoliko o njoj pisati.
Neću ovime poželeti laku noć. Jer, ako ste kao i ja ne planirate odmah utonuti u san, nema svrhe da noć bude laka.

Loving melody

Sometimes
Only sometimes
Our soul finds another that rhymes
With all our dark chimes
It hits you and cares you
It drains you and enlightens you
And without knowing why
Appears a wish for never saying bye
You may cry
You may shout
But you never think of going out
Because behind it all
There's a beautiful dreamy fall
Everything makes sense
It's a love with no defense
And sometimes
Only sometimes
Our soul finds another that rhymes

Art in me, art in all of us

Zanima me, zašto ljudi posvećuju život umetnosti, onako suštinski, tek kada postanu tužni?
Da li tuga nekada nije dovoljno razumljiva, a sreća takva da je ne treba razjašnjavati? Razumem taj početak Ane Karenjine. Ne razumem zašto tek tad imamo potrebu za umetnošću. Ljudi su toliko sebični da umetnosti prilaze samo kad im je potrebna, samo kada im je potreban beg u kome bi pronašli razjašnjenje za sebe same.
Ja prva mislim kako tužne pesme imaju dublju dubinu od veselih.
Ali pisanje... Sve žvrljotine koje ja sama napišem, svi razlozi zbog kojih čujem da su se ljudi uhvatili papira i olovke, tuga u očima i sumnje u prisebnost pisaca koji su ostavili vrhunska dela. Sve nas to u jednom trenutku odvede u neki tužni kutak istine.
Pisanje je, po mom mišljenju, vid razmišljanja, a razmišljanje isuviše lako može preći u onaj poznati overthinking momenat. And overthinking ruins happines. A ako uplovimo u nepotrebno duboka razmišljanja dok smo tužni, uzgleda da nemamo šta da izgubimo i ako se dodatno sjebemo.
I zato ne dozvoljavamo sebi da se opustimo i svojim mislima da spuste gard kada smo srećni, tačnije udaljavamo sebe od olovke, klavira, gitare ili papira. Zaustavljamo proces stvaranja jer sebe znamo dovoljno dobro. Znamo dovoljno dobro kuda to vodi.
Onda ispada da bismo svi mi, koji težimo da ostavimo neki trag u svetu umetnosti, treba da nosimo tračak melanholije u sebi celog života.
Što nije problem.
Problem, ako to uopšte jeste, je u tome što ta ideja ne deluje ni malo odbojno.

Something I wished for but never got

He had green eyes
Elegantly inked pale skin
A small mouth full of lies
But a mind with naked truth within
His touch was warm
His heart once upon a time torn
Look full of vain
He never felt any pain
He didn't like to be photographed close-up
His boots were always a bit worn out
Melody in his voice
Shut down, he had no choice
Past was a soft spot
Rock 'n' roll was a brother he never got
Green orbs sent a freeze
But brought me a breeze
He was a mystery
And, the rest is history