tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56696644362369169182024-03-13T19:04:55.040+01:00Dream the reality, think fairyWords, pictures, colours. Feelings, what were meant to get into the Ether. Or just out of me.
Enjoy your journey.Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-82039736558812471282012-01-22T01:10:00.006+01:002012-01-22T02:18:15.432+01:00January, You finger of round-going time...<span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Szépen fekszel a havon, </span><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Nicely You’re lying on the snow</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Fest a jég alakodon, </span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">Ice blazons Your shape</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">nincs pára az ajkadon, </span><span style="font-style: italic;"> <br />(There’s) no steam on Your lips</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Meghalt az alkalom.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Time vanished</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Szemedet gondolom,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Your eyes, (is what I) think (of)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Mosolyod gondolom, </span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">Smile (of Yours is what I) think (of)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Csontszínű liliom, </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Cream-coloured lilies</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Leomló hajadon.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">On Your falling hair</span><br style="font-style: italic;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Erősödik január,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">January rises</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Leesik a madár, </span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">Bird’s falling</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Szépen fekszik a havon,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">lying nicely on the snow</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Kezednek odaadom.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I give it in Your hands</span><br style="font-style: italic;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Sebesség gondolom,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Celerity, (is what I) think (of)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Magasság gondolom,</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;"> Height, (is what I) think (of)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Az az ég van-e még, </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />If that sky still exists… (I think of…)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Túl a tél falakon. </span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">Over the winter walls.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Issza a szemem az út,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Road’s drinking my eyes</span><br style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Te-te-te, tengerbe fut.</span><br style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"> <span style="font-style: italic;">Seas, seas, seas are they running to</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Ül a világ ujjadon, </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />The World sits on Your fingers</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Tőle volt a fájdalom,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Pain is caused of it</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Látnád, hogyan vezekel,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">If You’d see how it atones…</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Nevetnél magatokon.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">You would laugh at Yourselves.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Hol a hő, hol a hő,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Where’s the warmth, the warmth…</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Az a fényszerető,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">That light-lover</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Látom, ott menetel,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(I) Can see him now, walks down there</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Aki én megyek el.</span><br style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"> <span style="font-style: italic;">(And) I’m who goes away.</span><br /><br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/aO1shS_7USg?rel=0" allowfullscreen="" width="420" frameborder="0" height="315"></iframe>Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-87541787168152322462011-11-15T22:23:00.000+01:002011-11-15T22:24:14.354+01:00Ideal?Please. Couldn't we just skip christmas now? I'm a tiny bit sick of getting into "mood for celebrations" from different kind of advertisments. I wonder if sometime media would forget about making ads for a feast - would we have our own thoughs? Our own FEELINGS and ideas about them? <br /> Why the heck would I want to put a red ribbon on some present I couldn't even wrap to someone I love - is it the only way a gift can be ...a gift? Really?<br /> Why's that we forget how to open our mind, mouth and heart for our own thought and feelings? Not just forwarding Others' ideas... <br /> Yes, they might have been made perfectly, mesarued with liners, ready to sell. Because they are meant to be sold. Even if we're showed to see them made "with heart and soul". But in fact, they are attached to blood and meet. And not only from bones and meat humans... More, like selling blood. And eating bread, with red drops from the green back of dollars.Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-69794824694386573932011-10-23T23:41:00.002+02:002011-10-23T23:46:33.012+02:00Let it rain - on your inner skinThere is something unaproachable beauty in the the silently pouring rain, on a sunday evening. When the town is sleeping.<br />And the drops make love with the autumn grass. Sighs heard gently in the dark. Listening to it. And breathing in. Out of the window. Being the only sinner, who throws it's shadow on it. Alone. Whispering sweet words of love and gratefulness.<br /><br />And first time in a first place. Feeling yourself - being home.<br /><br /><br /><iframe width="400" height="301" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/-K45YUxAE90?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-7383137971806854542011-10-07T12:10:00.001+02:002011-10-07T12:46:43.093+02:00Naked timeSometimes your soul just needs to get every unnecessary weights off, what keeps it on the ground.<br />To lift itself up a bit, to breathe, to touch the sky, to drink the clouds. To be just simply... purely, nothing else. Just the picture in the frame. Out the frame.<br />Just paint itTimdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-6794157603960141162011-10-03T22:25:00.004+02:002011-10-03T22:30:59.177+02:00From Brooklyn to the souls /dratf/<div class="content noh" id="id.272361622783860"><div class="content noh" id="id.271189622911993"><div style="font-weight: bold;" class="content noh" id="id.298477156833383"><div style="font-weight: normal;" class="content noh" id="id.298815476799325"><p>Want to live in a green world again.</p></div><p><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>Comfort slowly kills the human being.</p></div><p>Or they do it themselves because of it.</p></div><p style="font-weight: bold;">I knew a lot of elderly in the mountains who lived in the countryside, they really lived with nothing, a copuple of cows, chicken...in a house that did't even have real glasses at the windows and they were so happy...modern people are all the time stressed and sad.</p></div>That's our problem. Having windows, but not using them to let the world in, just another thing to hide ourselves away from the light, from each other, and hanging colourful "curtains" justr to make it more patterned, instead of saying the truth, that we forgot how to just look out on it...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tech and economy have surpassed us and our tools are'nt more for our utility . Our societies arent made for the people.<br /><br />...</span>People. But not their souls.<div class="content noh" id="id.228841927172497"><p><span style="font-style: italic;">(Based of outsider events and a conversation with a friend, about it.)</span><br /></p></div>Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-6822571666903440052011-04-03T23:24:00.001+02:002011-04-03T23:29:42.690+02:00Ghymes - Peony<object width="425" height="349"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jAeWASTNKII?fs=1&hl=en_GB&hd=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jAeWASTNKII?fs=1&hl=en_GB&hd=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="349"></embed></object><br /><br />Érzem léptedet,<br />(I feel your step)<br />Illat-szívedet,<br />(Smell-taste of yours)<br />Bazsarózsa, vigyázz!<br />(Peony, watch out)<br /><br />Szoknyád gyönge csak,<br />(Your skirt is only weak)<br />Tudják, merre vagy,<br />(They know, where you are)<br />Csillogós vadak, vigyázz!<br />(Shiny beast, watch out!)<br /><br />Érted s ellened<br />(For you and against you)<br />Háborút remeg<br />(Shivering a war)<br />Mind, ki észrevett Téged.<br />(All, who noticed / saw you)<br /><br />Háborút remeg<br />(Shivering a war)<br />Mind, ki észrevett Téged.<br />(All, who noticed / saw you)<br /><br />Fönn jársz, nem velünk,<br />(You’re walking up high, not down between us)<br />Bántunk, fáj nekünk,<br />(We hurt you, it aches for us)<br />Átlagos fejünk, halj meg!<br />(Average head of us, die now!)<br /><br />Jobb, ha eltapos<br />(Better, if it steps on us)<br />A viszonylagos,<br />(The relativious)<br />A jövő magos, halj meg!<br />(The future is high, die now!)<br /><br />Nem lehet ilyet,<br />(It’s not possible)<br />Énekli Neked<br />(To sing something like that for you)<br />Sírva, ki temet Téged.<br />(Crying is, who’s burying you)<br /><br />Nem lehet ilyet,<br />(It’s not possible)<br />Énekli Neked<br />(To sing something like that for you)<br />Sírva, ki temet Téged.<br />(Crying is, who’s burying you)Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-79095472407788578442011-03-13T23:05:00.005+01:002011-03-13T23:40:50.362+01:00Love to You...Wanna get lost with You. In all senses. <br /> Want Your everything, Your touch, Your lips, Your heart. <br />To fly high, and dive deep.<br /> To become just one... of Us.<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/KUgvVAFFzN8?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />And I just wanna make love to you.Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-83840550927966432862011-02-09T23:26:00.001+01:002011-02-09T23:26:31.388+01:00Here we goSo time arrived, when tears are not meant to resemble sadness. And crying shows that the heart has been fulfilled with love, energies and all to power it could get and give back to the World, this beauty, this Hill we're crawling up on day-by-day. Wanting, wishing, whispering, shouting, laughing, loving, living and living and living. Living, as never we would and could do in other times again, once in a way it doesn't need a repeat. Because it goes just as it goes, and have to.Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-52773485110587638722011-02-09T11:14:00.003+01:002011-02-09T11:20:54.826+01:00dreaming about himi dreamt you.<br />again. but.<br />i dont know you<br />who are you?<br />ive seen you in my dreams<br /> not once<br />but twice<br />and talking<br />and playing<br />your voice, is sweet, just as your smile, it is.<br /><br />you were just there. when i waws just there<br />none of us was here because of the other... there was mo reason at all<br /> we just were and ...had to be there, like to find each other...<br />you were just there, naturally, like it was meant to be.<br /> playing, smiling around, just with your pure joy for life. and you touched me and we started playing.<br /> i was happy having you around, and being there, where you were.<br />but then i got up. but now im still dreaming about you, awaken.<br /> and have the feeling: nwe gonna meet again. because we have to meet again. at least in our dreams. unbtil it comes to the point... it comes to the truth.<br /><br />(waits)Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-18476633998475356832011-01-18T01:53:00.006+01:002011-01-18T02:25:14.791+01:00<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-TarrSrx4v0?fs=1&hl=en_GB&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-TarrSrx4v0?fs=1&hl=en_GB&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />"...life is complex, sometimes complicated, and stressful, yet Life is to be lived to the fullest."<br /><br />I meant this sentence as Nina meant it. Because the feelings inside of... my heart and soul are sometimes so powerful and strong that I feel like all the World's feeling are concentrated in mines. and I truely believe that loads of souls share this emotions, and have the faith in sharing feelings this way - to be Everybody at the same time while being : ME. And though that I feel it, I know, I still could introduce myself to some. And that's my desire towards those to know them and to be known this way.<br /><br />I know, and feel it absolutely and am grateful for Life's wholeness and even it's stresses. I need them! I wouldn't - and don't WANT to - be whole without these up and downs of this beautiful Rollercoaster. because going up we only can if we start from the bottom of the things. Firstly in our deepness.<br />And I want to share all the drops of my feelings. To show "what it means to feel what I feel."<br />To feel love. To feel loved. Living and feelin: Alive.<br /><br />And what I want to give with this song is it's power. Not a genre, not a place or a "name". Everything, what it means to me. What get out of me. What inspires me about it.<br />And it is truely a huge inspiration knowing all what those people done with Their personality - tip to toe, from Their soul, because They believed in what were doing.<br /><br />To "use" this love as it is meant to be used, to be the lover who gives everything possible. For this World, what awoken this power to love.Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-25088448139887456572010-12-14T01:25:00.001+01:002010-12-14T01:25:38.261+01:00Introduction at late in the nightSelf summary... <br /> I am not good at it - or at least not in deciding what to sum up about me.<br />I am small. Though I need big spaces. Like the World, the Universe, the souls of others, and hugs.<br />I am hard at making decisions. And I am a really "depends-on-my-mood".<br />And my life could be described as a list of assosiacions. At least I would do this way. :)<br /> I am "blessed" with (not) having the worst memory ever... :P Really, it is confusing sometimes, that I act like an 80 year old lady would without getting her cavington pills... <br /><br />I am fond of colours. In all ways. On walls, paintings, in clothes, flowers, even voices. And in people. <br />I believe in people, in the "elemental" humans, living with the same souls, in several parts of this World. <br />If I should choose a "religion" I would say that I have faith in Pangea of souls, of people. Living in one continent of feelings, and dreams. In their creations, bridges, and gods. <br /><br />I am keen on dancing. This is a very important part of my life. And even if I am not an expert of dance - tried and was member of danceschools, but competing is not my world -, <br />It is a special, an own expression of my feelings, meaning about World, and the world within me. I feel myself one with the universe, and it is a teraphy for me, solving any kind of problems. <br /> My real side can be found dancing...<br /> In music gypsy music and folk world is really meaning<br /><br />I believe in love. [On the ryhtm of Katie Melua's same titled song. :)] <br />Not only for people. For *one human*. But for the whole World, for the Life we live in. I am madly in love with Life.<br /> We are all lovers here. And make love with/in every movement of ours, phisically or spiritually. Because love starts in ourselves. Not for *someone*, but for Everyone, and it concentrates more and more to S/He, as Time requires.Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-17365606147379707852010-11-17T14:17:00.003+01:002011-01-29T16:20:14.937+01:00Message up... for YouI left the door open. In the dark room. If you get off and then in the moonlight, and you feel like it, come in. I left the lights burning in my room. I'm sorry, that is not such a big order, but, for me compared to myself... my part of room is arranged. I hope You can notice. You do? :)<br /> I have left a place on the bed for You, you can sit down there. Next to me. There are some textbooks, and a couple of notes. Further on, there is an article in one folder. I have to translate it (for myself). It would be nice if you could help me.<br /> The weather was nice today. And the leaves on the ground, You would love them. Maybe I would asked You to run into it with me. But You rather would just looked at me doing it. But I would see You smiling. That wrinkled smile, what comes up from Your deep heart.<br />I miss You, You know? Indeed, so much. You are far away. Close. Unattainable. Inseparable. I'm afraid. Sometimes I'm so alone. And sometimes I feel like calling You. It wouldn't be cheap, but hearing You is more valuable than anything. Priceless. The dear voice. A laugh. The cries. The sighs ... All just Yours.<br /> How different is everything. Without you. How many things in this World You were... Simultaneously. From ourselves. In you. How much there was ...<br /> Was. And now only the memories remain. But as long as we are. They exist. And You breathe with our breathtakes.<br /> There are many things I haven't said yet. But I know that You listen. And will ever after. In the light of the candle the sounds would take me to You. The words reach Thee, is not it? You will visit me sometime, wouldn't You?<br /> In the evening, when I dreaming, caress me sometimes. When it's hard to fall asleep, kiss me to the dreams, and visit me.<br /> I'm going now. (Oh, I haven't said, I was washing! And ironing. You would be proud of me, would You? And I even started to like to wash the dishes too...) It is good here, I just miss You ... Please sit next to me, I'd hug You so much.<br /> I love you.Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-8290086447939154782010-06-07T01:14:00.003+02:002011-01-29T16:00:17.704+01:00everything alwaysthat's what will never change. Anything but that will do, and will change. Sometime...Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-91780635267153679162010-06-07T00:56:00.002+02:002011-01-29T16:00:36.983+01:00everytimetoday I'm in love. with every dayTimdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-50330083389324485562010-04-23T01:51:00.001+02:002010-04-23T01:57:02.410+02:00Dreaming, meaningYou Don't Know What You Are Going To Do With Your Life<br /><br />If your dream has you standing at a fork in the road, wondering which way you should go, it means you don't know what to do. You are confused, and the best way to get over that is to ask someone that you can confide in, someone who understands you. If you don't have someone to confide in, then don't brood over it. Decide what you are going to do later, when it comes to that point.<br /><br />And exactly that's how it is... But the good point in that is: I have who can, who is with me, and helps me all the way it is possible. (Thank You. :))Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-59475336211803967622010-04-21T00:41:00.003+02:002011-01-29T16:01:48.901+01:00Many waysAngela says in an episode, that "There's so many ways to be connected to people."<br /> And we just can't realise, how many there really are. When someone seems to lose us, or we seem to lose them, they kind of grab us, and don't let the connection go and disappear, but it also depends on us.<br /> We do not pay enough attention on caring about each other, cause 'we think...'. But we don't do it right. Because at the same time - we feel. Something else. And ours feeling always seem to be more real, and lifelike than any other... It's kind of an instinc we got from nature. with the only difference that we use it in our relations and not to protect our lives - not in it's phisical meaning. but we do protect it in the mental way.Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-6217899606309738622010-04-17T21:28:00.000+02:002010-04-17T21:29:38.508+02:00we..and finally we always notice: we're our series' protagonist.Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-85510618958191517712010-04-15T01:58:00.000+02:002010-04-15T01:59:26.241+02:00Ghost momentsPart of some - other's - life...<br /><br />She arrives home, and she finds a new feeling, new, old, new... True. <br /> So she arrives home after anight would-be-spent-out-from-home, and she's undressing, and feeling tired, and somehow strange, at home. <br /> Terribilyy tired, and sleepy maybe. She stands up, walks through the house, and open the parent's door.<br /> She, her mother's still awaken. And she breaks in tear, and end up in her arms, saying sorry. And making the solution for the rows before.<br /> And she falls asleep that way.<br /><br />That's, what I'd like to do. The same. To open that door, to enter, and say: I am sorry for everything.<br /> And to fall asleep in Your arms. Again. Arraiving home - finally.Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-31264166839701678782010-04-14T02:10:00.001+02:002010-04-14T02:11:56.758+02:00Other:"It's just so hard to look at her like she looks like a stranger..."<br /><br />/From My so-called life, true for nowaday's situations.../Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-88941681718399647442010-04-14T01:53:00.006+02:002010-04-14T02:02:45.815+02:00DreamI've dreamt about him.<br />I don't know why, and what the dream, what it meant.<br />I can remember looking at him. But he didn't noticed. I heard him laughing, or even "just" similing. Saw him playing with his brother. He was giggling, like a little boy does when he's tickled by someone.<br />Then he turned to me? Or somehow his.. their attention got me. Looking at them, between some branches, from behind of a churhc-like building. <br /> Then the bells started to ring. Giggling stopped. He got up from the laid play-position. Left the little boy there, and came towards me. The boy weren't here anymore. (His mother came, or someone, took him, not sure. But he was somewhere, with someone safe.)<br />We were just two of us.<br />It was kind of a moment of enlightning... And he knew something ...new? Or better to say: old, but freshly discovered. A feeling.<br /> Just like me.<br />A desire, for something else. A desire for it to be true.<br /><br />*Not afraid, because it will be never read by. . .<br /> Him.Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-24287071875004787762010-04-12T14:07:00.005+02:002010-04-12T15:08:53.968+02:00Can't cope with your memoriesYou've gone. That's the most sure thing You "left" after You, and then: loads of memories. <br /> Being with you, hearing your voice, feeling your touch, your hug, the smell of Your skin and hair. <br /> When you bought your hair colours, when you dyed your hair and came out like that, and continued doing Your daily things, smiling, talking, cheering us up.<br /> When You came, cabs stopping in front of the house. When You went and the car door slapped. <br /> When I arrived to the fact: You'll be home, waiting for us.<br />When I was on my way home and saw a car, the car You were coming in. The moment when it stopped and I hopped in, hugging You.<br /> When You gave us those little gifts, and when we felt it so precious, not thinking about: how precious was that time. That You could give it to us.<br /><br /> When You could see me smiling on my last way "out". When You saw me preparing for my first alone-travel, then waited for me, and heard about my stories of this short time.<br /> When I thought I felt the time... When I saw You, when You were in your weakest point...<br /> When the time came... to feel Your last hug. The last time, we said 'I love you'-s. Last goodbyes.<br />Last anniverseries. Last calls.<br /><br />And the first bad news. <br />Next: bad call. <br />First tears in phone.<br /><br />And now... You're gone.<br /> Not in my mind.<br />You're just on a big vacation. Visiting the places You've always want to. I see You laughing and embracing the Life. You're just far from us. <br /><br />But sometimes I become selfish. And I wish You could come back, and say a word again. Calm me when I feel down. Let me hear you say, it's gonna be alright.<br /> I wish to hear your life-full laugh. <br /><br />I just can see Your smile on the pictures. Two-dimension pictures of a three-dimension soul... How could I...?<br /> You're everywhere, but I can't go on without knowing that You're not going to touch those cups and plates, and calendars, and trees what You did before. The chairs, the tables, the swing.<br /> It would... It is else, to sit down, without You being next to us.<br /><br />And I can't unwrap the papers on the things with Your face on them... Painful that it only can be just a copy of You... Your life...<br /><br />Because we are poor not having You.Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-30090723528769881492010-04-05T00:05:00.005+02:002011-03-23T16:49:17.384+01:00when arriving to places where nobody's waiting for you..empty places...<br />empty rooms...<br />empty souls...<br />and nobody is there to hold and squeeze your hand, and say, yournotaloneTimdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-53205619484963842422010-03-30T16:55:00.002+02:002011-01-29T16:00:00.616+01:00(cruchhhrr)if something breaks nothing can glue it back - not to make the breaches disappear. but we can keep the remained parts. and the memory of it. and move on - with it...Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-53876319619056949202010-03-30T16:54:00.003+02:002011-01-29T15:59:13.332+01:00JuneAnother rainy night will came. The atmosphere was gold somehow... It was like you were seeing the world through golden sunglasses.<br />Sparrows and swallows were hunting for bugs. People were spitting cherry seeds. Someone looking out from the window. Another gone out to the ground. Something must have been in the air.<br />Swallows came back and brought their gnats back.<br />That's life, how it has to be.<br />And we play every day. Every hours of the day and every minute of them. We play because we need the applause, and need the roses in front of our feet. The bad critics and the good friends. To be there fir them, to be spectators. To feel that someone's playing for us. For our pleasure. To make us laugh or even cry.<br />To make you feel alive...Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5669664436236916918.post-61534121056814418422010-03-30T16:53:00.001+02:002010-03-30T16:53:54.387+02:00time...not the morning's passaway and not the towarding evening causes those moods... but the time what seems to be too fast, the time, what goes by always. with or without us.Timdérhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18156428529150126748noreply@blogger.com0