Lazy Tuesday morning

Speaking about favorite authors - Richard Bach. And almost everything he wrote...

"You are never given a dream without also being given the power to make it true. You may have to work for it, however."

Clever boy he is... :)

Fed up

Recently I have come to feel disgusted... absolutely and genuinely appalled by the immense amount of bullshit we can produce and then bury ourselves into it. Counting myself in as well. I don't want somebody going about saying "Well, look at her, who is she to judge? And isn't she doing the same thing after all?" I am. And therefore, I am appalled by myself as well. Look at us. Just take a look. We are always unhappy, always moaning, complaining, grupming, always fighting with or for something. This never neding turmoil, our never ending adventures in the land of mysery we create. What the hell? And who needs that? It's like the end of the world has come only because I have decided to feel so today and bother everyone with it. Is it the end of the world if I fail an exam? (yes, I do remember I made a big deal out of my state exam fever). NO! Is it the end of the world that I want to have weekends off but I don't? NO! The ugliness or beauty of the whole world is all in the eye that contempltes it. And here... it's not about sharing anymore, it's not about discovery. It's about some fuckin' crooked fetish to feed the hunger for attention. Of any kind. Approval or disapproval. Verbal aggression. Hate. Whatever. Let it be, as long as we're noticed. Cause agony and suffering alone is not enough. IT HAS TO BE noticed. Fuck that, I say. If you wanna waste your lives being miserable, fine! But don't go around saying someone's ought to save you. Cause they don't. And the world owes you nothing. It was here first.

Recently rediscovered

Easily a(m/b)used

Раздавам вяра. В неща, които съм убедена, че не съществуват. Поправям счупени надежди. Връщам изгубени усмивки. Преподавам по строене на въздушни кули. Провеждам екскурзии в измислени светове. И като всяко истинско дете на обущар, ходя със скъсани обувки.

Lost and found again

...cause if I find
If I find my own way
How much will I find

Jesus, Gabby!

those fuckin' castles in the sky

(Не)възможност.
Which dies before it lived.
Самотата между двама души е доброволен ад.
No man is an island.
Each woman is.

and islands of purple haze...

Липсва ми ето това усещане...