ولی بارون و رعد و برق زد، هوا خاکستریه، دامن تور مشکی تنمه، قهوه گرفتم و یه کتاب خوب باهامه.
خوشحالم.
خوشحالم.
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Rivers
Epica
Break loose from the chains
Rise above the waves
Fighting in the darkness
Dancing in the light
Break out of your cage
Turn another page
Drowning in the river
Swim against the tide of life
Rise above the waves
Fighting in the darkness
Dancing in the light
Break out of your cage
Turn another page
Drowning in the river
Swim against the tide of life
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Tonight, I’ll be lying on the floor, writing in the dark, listening to music, Because something in me refuses to die quietly.
and you won’t read.
Thank you for tolerating me! (You don't have to.)
and you won’t read.
Thank you for tolerating me! (You don't have to.)
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Imagine with me:
There’s a shiver that starts in your teeth. Not cold, no, it’s electric.
A low hum buzzing through your jaw
like you’re plugged into the cosmos itself!
Your mouth barely moves,
but your molars feel like they’re about to scream light. (Or to jump out of your mouth!)
There’s a shiver that starts in your teeth. Not cold, no, it’s electric.
A low hum buzzing through your jaw
like you’re plugged into the cosmos itself!
Your mouth barely moves,
but your molars feel like they’re about to scream light. (Or to jump out of your mouth!)
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Your head is tilted back,
neck bared,
as if the universe might kiss you there.
And your breath slows.
like it’s afraid of waking you from whatever dream this is.
Soft.
neck bared,
as if the universe might kiss you there.
And your breath slows.
like it’s afraid of waking you from whatever dream this is.
Soft.
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heart beats slow
but you feel every single throb ripple through your whole body.
Like your heart isn’t in your chest anymore, it’s in your fingertips. In your lips.
As if your whole body has become one quiet, pulsing heart.
A wild, living thing.
Beating slow.
Beating hard.
but you feel every single throb ripple through your whole body.
Like your heart isn’t in your chest anymore, it’s in your fingertips. In your lips.
As if your whole body has become one quiet, pulsing heart.
A wild, living thing.
Beating slow.
Beating hard.
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Your chest rises like it’s lifting centuries of grief,
and falls like surrender.
Every inhale stretches too long,
you can kiss a memory
and still make it to the next second.
People talk like they’re underwater.
You hear music where there’s silence.
You feel love in someone’s blink.
You touch lust in the wind.
and falls like surrender.
Every inhale stretches too long,
you can kiss a memory
and still make it to the next second.
People talk like they’re underwater.
You hear music where there’s silence.
You feel love in someone’s blink.
You touch lust in the wind.
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You’re heavy,
Like your body is a cathedral filled with incense and ghosts.
You’re present but far.
Here, and so deeply not!
Like your body is a cathedral filled with incense and ghosts.
You’re present but far.
Here, and so deeply not!
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The euphoria:
the quiet before God speaks,
and you’re too gone to listen.
Too gone to care.
(God?!)
the quiet before God speaks,
and you’re too gone to listen.
Too gone to care.
(God?!)
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کاش الان تعطیلات کریسمس بود، تو یه کشوری مثل مجارستان، اسکاتلند، انگلیس یا فرانسه بودم، برف میومد، شهر پر از ریسههای برق برقی و درختهای کاج تزئین شده بود، شبها کافهها شلوغ میشدن و نوشیدنیهای مخصوص این موقع سال به منوها اضافه شده بودن، هر از چندگاهی یه گروه از جوونهای مست در حال خوندن آواز از کوچهها میگذشتن.
من هم تو خونه جلوی لپتاپم نشسته بودم در حالی که خودم رو توی پتو پیچیدم و جورابهای پشمی پامه، یه فیلم سیاه و سفید در حال پخشه اما حواسم پرت اینه که فردا که میخوام برم بیرون لباس چی بپوشم.
من هم تو خونه جلوی لپتاپم نشسته بودم در حالی که خودم رو توی پتو پیچیدم و جورابهای پشمی پامه، یه فیلم سیاه و سفید در حال پخشه اما حواسم پرت اینه که فردا که میخوام برم بیرون لباس چی بپوشم.
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ساختن این تصویر ذهنی با در نظر گرفتن شرایط الان زندگیم، شبیه خط و خش انداختن رو روح و روانمه.
هوا هم که گرم...
هوا هم که گرم...
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