Delicate

Damien Rice -- " Delicate "

" We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all? "

Link aici.

Stare

Iti dai seama ca e o zi nasoala cand soundtrack-ul zilei respective e " Mr. Brightside " de la The Killers.

" Now I'm falling asleep,
And she's calling a cab,
While he's having a smoke,
And she's taking a drag,
Now they're going to bed,
And my stomach is sick,
And it's all in my head
But she's touching his chest,now
He takes off her dress,now
Let me go!

And I just can't look, its killing me
And taking control
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea,
Swimming through sick lullabies,
Choking on your alibis,
But it's just the price I pay,
Destiny is calling me,
Open up my eager eyes
'Cause I'm Mr Brightside ! "

Nu-i asa ca iubiti diminetile de duminica ? :-j

Fiona Apple -- "Why Try To Change Me Now ?"

" I'm sentimental
So I walk in the rain
I've got some habits
Even I can't explain
I go to the corner
I End up in Spain
Why try to change me now?

I sit and daydream
I've got daydreams galore
Cigarette ashes
There they go on the floor
I go away weekends
And leave my keys in the door
Why try to change me now?

Why can't I be more conventional
People talk
And they stare
So I try
But that can't be
Cos' I can't see
My strange little world
Just goes passing me by

So let people wonder
Let 'em laugh
Let 'em frown
You know I'll love you
Till the moon's upside down
Don't you remember
I was always your clown
Why try to change me now?

Why can't I be more conventional
People talk
And they stare
So I try
But that can't be
Because I can't see
My strange little world
Just goes passing me by

So let people wonder
Let 'em laugh
Let 'em frown
You know I'll love you
Till' the moon's upside down
Don't you remember
I was allways your clown
Why try to change me...
Why would you want to change me...
Why try to change me now ? "


Link spre melodie

Closure

The fog of myst that usually comes with dreams started to fade away, giving in to the smooth, warm rays of light. Same dream, same amazing amount of emotions, same abbrupt ending. Same shitty wake up: his head felt two sizes to small for his brain.

It was the fifth time he had the same dream. And he was not happy about it. As much as he liked to see her face, he wanted the dreams to stop. He wanted closure and answers, and today was the day he was going to get them.

And it was about time.

There was food on the table, a bunch of clothes scattered on the bed and you could hear the watter running in the bathroom. He never was a multi-tasker. And right then he couldn't even remember where did he get the guts to even think that he could see her. That's why he had his phone in his hand, searching through his contacts. He finally got the number he was looking for.

The male voice at the other end didn't seem too enthusiastic to answer, and skipped over the formalities. After all , they were best friends.

- Please tell me this isn't about that dream of yours.
- Good morning to you too Will.
- Oh, cut the crap, we both know you want to discuss the dream again.
- Actually, there's nothing to discuss. I've made my choice.
- Thank God, you were driving me crazy with your stupid...
- I'm going to see her.
- Come again?!

- I'm going to see her. Maybe she'll know what to say.

- You know you idiot, there's a little thing called " moving on ". I suggest you do it. You have no right to do this.

- No right? What, I can't talk to her now?
- Chris, in case you've forgotten, here's a short recap: she's getting married in four days!
- I know...but I'm still going through with this.
- Fine. Just don't come running to me when instead of answers you'll get even more questions.
- Yeah, I love you too.
- Oh go to hell !

That's all Chris needed. The sense that all odds were against him. Now he knew: today was the day. All bets were off.

******

The coffee shop was packed with people that morning. And he didn't have eyes for anyone but her. Even so, he still didn't know what exactly to tell her, what exactly to ask her, to finally get that feeling of closure. He was just starring at her, hoping for a miracle. And then she saw him.

- Chris! What are you doing here?

She sounded honestly surprised.

- Nothing...I...just came in for some coffee.
" The story of my life...", he thought with anger. " I never have the guts to say what I want to say..."

- Oh no...
- What?
- I know that look. You didn't just come in for coffee, Chris. You want to say something.
- Yeah...well...I had a dream about you last night.
- Oh...what was it about?
- We were back in highschool. And we were together, naturally. I had just managed to raise enough money to buy you 53 red roses. You know, to mark our first year together...You were so happy when I gave them to you.

He was looking straight into her cappucino-brown eyes as he talked, desperately looking for that flame many of us call a spark... He realised he was never going to find it. Because it was gone.

- And then what happened...?
The answer that came was probably the most honest answer he ever gave in his life.
- ...and then I woke up.

He felt tired and bitter, but he knew that now he could start thinking about feeling better...

Prima flotare...

...logica, desigur.

Sunt la blogul cu numarul trei (cifra magica in basme ), deci nu e o premiera. Nici pe departe.

Anton Holban (un scriitor ) si-a facut o autocaracterizare, intr-una din cartile sale. De ce v-ar interesa asta? Pentru ca eu consider ca acea autocaracterizare e si caracterizarea mea. Sa fiu sincer, ma sperie cat de mult se pare ca seman cu domnul Anton Holban. Cred ca si dansul se sperie de acest lucru (de fapt, sunt sigur ca s-ar rasuci in mormant daca ar citi articolul asta. Dar am auzit ca nu e wireless nici in rai nici in iad, asa ca riscul e minim).

In fine, important e ca asta e incercarea mea patetica de prim articol. Acum va las in compania domnului Holban, pentru a va face o oarecare parere despre mine :

" Sunt un om complicat sau, ca sa spun mai putin favorabil despre mine, incurcat. Nimic nu se rezolva simplu. Pentru o chestiune neinsemnata am nesfarsite ezitari. Nu ma pricep sa merg pe drumul drept. Ocolesc. Gasesc mai multe mijloace posibile, si nu ma pricep sa aleg. Sunt politicos mai mult decat trebuie, multumesc daca se ocupa cineva de mine , atat de mult ca incomodez. Ma ascult cand vorbesc si nu sunt incantat de vorba pe care o spun. Imi acopar timiditatea cu unele istetimi nepotrivite. Nu stiu cum sa ma port cu vecinul, sunt prea umilit sau prea pretentios. Monologhez pe ascuns si cineva mai pretentios poate sa ma invinuiasca de lipsa de sinceritate. Multe artificii pentru cel mai mic gest. Nu ma pricep sa limpezesc "da" sau "nu". Fac o paranteza, caci un nou gand s-a intercalat, totdeauna continand in el un chin;povestind ceea ce s-a intamplat odinioara, eu fac constatari de ceea ce se intampla chiar in momentul povestirii. Sunt gelos, ridicol de pretentios. "

(Anton Holban, "Jocurile Daniei")

P.S. : Link la blogul vechi : aici.