Ratacit in ituneric..

Cand mor visele unde ajung?
Cand devin realitate se bucura pentru tine sau pentru ele insele?

Oare visele simt? Stiu diferenta dintr o moarte pasnica si una violenta?

Padure si copaci....

Perfectiunea apare unde te astepti mai putin si mai ales unde nu o cauti (de obicei). Ajung la ideea ca momentele importante ale vietii, o multime infinita si imposibila de inteles de catre noi, muritorii de rand, e un joc faustian al sortii. Ce vei pati maine este influentat de tine la fel de mult ca si de cei din jur. Nu e fair, nu ai nici macar 50% sanse sa iasa cum vrei tu. Depinzi de ceilalti. Si te zbati, si musti, si inghiti in sec.

Dont push me...

Dont push me till i loose my words... dont send me away till you can see my eyes no more... Then is when i will come back to take away what you stole from me and then some more... Ill rip the smiles from your heart... ill take your warmth away.. and then Ill leave... And leave you in the dust i shall, no fate worse than feeling the naked soul you posses.. And then ill steal your eyes.. no path is good enough for you to see... The pain you'll feel next are your fingers... broken in so many places you loose count of... And this... this is not payment enough... Your journey is just starting... It will never end as long as a clock ticks in this universe... You're mine to do what i want of you... and life has tought me only pain... Now go wash yourself... we have a long journey, my friend, my slave...

In sus...

Cerul e albastru de partea cealalta... un albastru laptos, cu dungi albe lasate de pasarile de metal.. si eu stau aici, impotmolit in noroi... uitandu-ma prin crapaturile din zid la culoarea, viata si caldura de dincolo... Aici ploua incetisor, cu stropi mari ca de marmura.. hranesc si omoara in acelasi timp.. De saptamani intregi tot cad... Acum inchid ochii si zbor printre cuvinte, printre vise si dorinte... sunt o pasare... si nu-mi mai pasa de nimic... doar zbor..

zbor prin nori
sar intre flori
si-mi sarut visele,
si-mi arunc visele,
si-mi zdrobesc visele,
si ma simt iar om...
om printre oameni
om printre voi
om...

Fight?

We fight for our right to feed on other's dreams and wishes. But sometimes it leaves us full of desire and contempt. Desire for more, contempt for better. The dreams are not enough, we want them in your blood, running, feeding our soul until the body breaks down. We want to live by any means... but are we really alive? Can we dream another's life?

Seed of destruction

The seed is in, the heroes are not alive. We all live to live, and to try not to starve in this fruitless and dangerous world. But sometimes, destruction comes in our own hidden house, destroing from inside. And then you run. Like hell. And then some more, untill you can run no more. And then you try to kill yourself but that is a harsh lesson: a true-minded, reality-facing person will never be able to trully kill themselves. The truth lies in them and it defends their hearts as a rabid dog... They search someone else to kill them. Suicide by numbers: one in quite-a-few-friends can get inside and kill destruction at its source. The risk? taking your soul for ever or a long period...

You are destroing yourself. And then you realize one day that you've been searching for her or him, a knife-well-sharped wich does it in one, quick, painless stab. And you jump at the ocasion, fearless and hopefull.

And you die.