Thursday, February 14, 2013

thousands of tears later

little teardops flow down my nose. i was ready to die. no one could escape me. my ears are full of hysterical nervous music of Hole and suicidal feeling burnt my mind into clouds of lost dreams and colors of forgotten summer. i have an autumn in my life and nothing can give me sunshine. only gloom and my intimate thoughts disturb my broken heart. i don't know what made me depressed. today is not special date, i have no boyfriend, my family is ordinary, and no events happened with me in the school. something (someone?) broke me and it feels like there is black emptiness in the space inside my body. does the time exist? do i exist? what exist at all?

moscow is sinking in frosen sunshine. i am sinking in my stress and depression. cool.

exotic flowers in me wilted and the air filled with grey soft carbon dioxide. teen hormons are on the top, my mother says. but i don't think that hormons can behave so badly. it's only my mood, it's normally for me to be anxios and depressed. i want to have more gloom on the one hand, but on the other cynical bulletproof shell can protect your intimate crying feelings from the other's curious eyes. my thoughts should be kept in secret from my surrounding because i hate when theirs compassionate fake looks. 

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

she was a girl from a dream

i was sleeping when i met Alice from Wonderland. she was in white wedding dress with its hemling cut and in the veil made of clouds and diamond stars. she said that she was chasing the rabbit and asked if i had seen it. i wanted to know why she had followed him, and she dissolved in gloom dreamy air full of dead flowers' odor and crystalline foggy tastes with laugh on her dark cherry lips. i looked at the shaows on the melancholic skies with heavenly shining cloudy dreams. and then my eyes started to cry with mermaid salt like the ocean tears. the sky fell down and make the Universe empty. i was feeling like i was in Wonderland, but wasn't i there really? 


today my mood is fairy and gloomy like the autumn weather, and i wanted to watch some psychodelic heavy film from the past. i was surfing Net and found the first film about Alice lost in Wonderland from far-away 1903. the aftertaste from the film is suicidal and black, and i am sure my fantasies will fill with the blurry image of young nymphet-looking Alice who interpreted me the real world language into the mad dreamy. she is my lost angelic white flower with a drop of blood on each petal.

Alice was scared of touch with reality. she felt cozy in her black-and-white retro dreams filled with piano accords of sadness and sweet depression. i understand her feelings. i am the second Alice. i am not a visitor of Wonderland, i am the Wonderland native. i am a cherry blossom girl who has her head not on her shoulders.

the sky turned grey. i cry.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

romeo + juliette

Romeo and Juliette was one of the most beautiful dramatic composition written by, of course, great English author Shakespeare. it's a classic story of love, the love so heavenly and tender, so sacrificial and passionate that is a gift of paradise, but to this couple of young people- of hell. aren't they happy in their true honest feelings? no one knows. but in my opinion, yes. because of sunny kisses, hands in hands, nights full of moonlight, flowers and recognitions? because of eyes of sky and hair of silk? because of their suicides. suicide made their love more strong and powerful. they had no understanding in real life, but maybe God blessed their feeling on heaven and made them eternal?

eternal endless love. invisible interpretation of fairy tale far-away and beautiful feelings of people, complicated biological machines with difficult mechanisms and protoplasts. how can this creature feels like that? Shakespeare gives us his answer. in book called Romeo and Juliette. open this colorful book and become knowing about love of two teenagers with big hearts opened to death,- and you may hear him.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

my own madonna

to tell the truth I am absolutely in love with pop music. it seems not heavy and easy so I am just relaxed and happy when I listen to this genre. when I want to be crazy and depressed, I turn on rock and grunge, but to my mind, it's important to be sometimes calm like the sea when there is no wind and waves. I have my head heavy after a hard school day and physics lessons and listen to Taylor Swift's guitar motives, primitive, soft and light like an ice cream that gives me good emotional energy and calm mood. I hear whispering restful voice decorated with gentle laces of music and texts with love-meanings. but now it's not time to speak about Taylor, today I am into Madonna, the mother of modern popular music, the queen and my idol of all times.

in fact, she is absolutely great woman who dressed girls in the 80s in leggings, denim jackets, miniskirts and ragged tops with lots of jewelry and wild hair. who makes music charts explode? who was on the top of world for so many years? who is that Madonna? she is a revolutionist of freedom who turned the world foundations and colored the teenagers' lives into bright pop colors, she is the mother of music that is listened by girls and boys, by parents today. mainstream music is her child, she grew up Lady GaGa and other pop monsters like Beyoncé and Bruno Mars. she is a 80s and 90s and 2000s and 2010s star and is she going down the stairs of glory and popularity? is she a 'grandma'?

Madonna is a 'masterpiece'. she is definitely the woman who is like Columb the first. it means that she founded modern world built by show business, and of course that is a real role in the world. think about this for two seconds: is it gorgeous and cool to be such an important person? :/// I have always thought of music business as a pleasure, not as a big enterprise with lots of complicated nuances. but it's really. Madonna is not a pleasure for simple guys like me and you. she is not, exactly. we are the pleasure for her. she is a genius who enslaved the world using her special style and talent in music.

no valentine's day

February, the month of the Valentine's day and brrrrr cold weather, came into Moscow. I can not say that I am happy about this, because I want to bask under the sun with no thoughts in my head except the last fashion news and, to tell the truth, the Valentine's day is awful event when (in our school) someone puts ugly children-made box with tons of sequins and rhinestones that always makes my eyes blind. no colorful romantic mood, exactly. the only thing I think about is why I am so shy and so ugly, why I have got no valentines except from my friends. I hate their kind wishes written with pink pen and sentimental pink intentions because at the beginning they give hope and then take it away with noisy heart brake. and now I WILL forbid them send me beautiful hand made or from shop card with a couple of words that must make me joyful but can't.
so it is no surprise that I will make this month not as it should be, definitely not normal. sunny, new, colorful, bloody. no hearts and glamor. yes, you will think, that I want to turn winter to summer, and it's true.
this post is made for inspiration like any other posts but it brings some new feelings.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

i forget about everything

something went wrong. I am sucked by the reality so I am gone to my own with eternal cloudy sounds of Marina and the Diamonds' pop, girlish and egoistic like other teenage girl's dreams. I forget being polite, I am always just myself, with no troubles and with turquoise hair. mint clouds are chasing me with their diamond shining glitter, they taste like vanilla cake with fairy tale weightless cream and a cherry on the top. it gives me delicious felling of liberty. I am mad. I am mad. I am mad. I am mad in my feminine sunny world of the 70s.

just like I am from Cinderella's story, I forget who i am and where i am from, so i play little princess with gold hair and Hollywood smile in the story with happy end: i meet Prince and marry him. but isn't this story fake? is Cinderella acting like other women, isn't her eyes surrounded by eyelashes cartoon and doll? she is not real, but i don't believe it. more precisely, i don't want to stop believing in fake tales. they fill me with emotions, without them i am... empty. emptiness will be flowing in my veins like blood.

the faith is a strong part of my existence. if i don't believe, i would not exist, my mind would dissolve in the Universe like the sugar dissolves in a cup of tea. if i want to keep my faith alive, i make up my own world of Wonderland and sweet cakes. i reread the Little Mermaid for milliard times and dream about eternal love that kills to be more infantile and naïve (why do i do that, God?). it is scary for me to be an adult, i want to be a child, but one piece of me is serious and grown-up so it gives normal sense, meaning to all events happening around me.

just give up. you're blind, girl. you can't see the truth. you're just eating when the problems came on your head like an unexpected rain in the sunny summer day. you're stupid and you know it but you argue with yourself when you think about it. oh thanks for advice, dear brains. i will think about it.

i have fun in Wonderland where Alice lived but the reality scare me. it is bad to feel myself not cozy in my real home and to feel cozy in my made-up home. strange, isn't it?

just be