You said:"Don't let me hurt you, Jill"
I said:"I think you never will"
You said:"I'm leaving to my contry"
"Be safe and happy" said I loudly
You said:"I'm kidding, baby, stop it"
I lost my voice, I couldn't top it
You said:"Hey, thank you for your friendship"
I ran away:"I hate this worship"
You said:"You're real and I like it"
I said:"I'm normal, usuall, fuck it"
You said I'm funny and a freak
I said:"I'm happy. You are sick"
You asked me:"Will you miss me, baby?"
I answered:"No", was thinking:"May be"
You said:"I'll see you in next life"
It stroke me as the sharpest knife
You asked to give you one more hug
I said:"I'll do it, but you suck"
You asked:"Then kiss me in my chick"
I kissed you lightly as a freak
And we were used to fight like that
"You love me"-"No, you love me, babe"
And you were playing stupid games
While I was burning in your flames
I told you that two days before...
You said:"Don't give me problems, bro"
So many things I didn't tell
Before the last and final bell

I am hurt, not because i lost him, but because he is not alife anymore
I miss him
Want to believe that it's better there

Kemal Kolenovic, a middleweight boxer, was killed outside a Bronx bar when he was struck by a car that drove onto the sidewalk, police and witnesses said.

Kolenovic was at a restaurant around 4 a.m. Sunday when several other men got into an argument about their native Eastern Europe. Kolenovic followed the men outside. According to his uncle, Kolenovic was trying to placate the other men.

One of the men involved in the quarrel got into a sport-utility vehicle and drove it onto the sidewalk, hitting Kolenovic. The driver then fled.

Kolenovic was 10-6-2, with five knockouts. He won his most recent fight, a first-round knockout last month of Ronny Glover at the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy in Kings Point, N.Y.

Kolenovic was an up-and-coming boxer who had immigrated from Montenegro. He was looking to fight at the Loews Paradise Theater in the Bronx this month, if he could find an opponent. Don Stewart, a boxing columnist for The Reading Eagle who saw him fight in May told the Times, "He was real charismatic in the ring. He would jump up and down in the corner before the rounds. He was a real tough little guy. It’s a boxing cliche, but he was a hard-luck journeyman who couldn’t get a break. He had fights that could have gone his way but didn’t for whatever reason."

He was 28

Однажды мечтала,стремилась, летела
Бежала, кричала, скользила, хотела
Смотрела, искала, любила, вертелась
И верилось в сказку и в сказку смотрелось
Как в зеркало в воду упала из тела
Разбилась, расшиблась и снова взлетела
На крыльях потрепанных, серых от скуки
На крыльях остались следы - его руки
И больно, и грустно, и стыдно за слезы
За чувства, надежды, ответы, вопросы
И мысли, как реки, бежали, струились
Комкались, как пепел, как камни искрились
Устала, упала, ослепла, пропала
Устала, упала на руки. Попала
Не в сети, не в узы, на губы губами
Не песни, не музы, слова за словами
Осталась, отбилась, кричала на слезы
Отбилась...Ошиблась?Ответы, вопросы...

Novii god. Jdala etogo sobitia s luchimi nadejdami na buduschee, jdala nachala novoi jizni, novogo nastroenia. A vot siju seichas zdes i herovo, otvratitelno, grustno i odinoko.
Hochetza sobrat veschi i uehat domoi, priamo seichas, plunuv na vse...
Hochetza plakat ot togo, chto mir k tebe bezrazlichen. Vrode bi est u tebia blizkie ludi i druzia, a mira u tebia net. Krugovorot jizni i sobitii menia slovno ne kasaetza. I chto chto nastupil novii god? A gde obeschannoe i jellannoe vsemi mne schastie?
alone

I am fucking worried about him. What is going on with him? May be he is right, may be he is too much for me, too much misunderstandable, too much seen, too much hurt. I feel sorry, i feel hurt for his pain. I don't know what to think, just want to go to his house, to hug him and say, that everything will be ok. I don't know how, but I feel him, his pain. Didn't sleep the whole night, when he was drinking out his pain, i received his message at 5, but didn't answer. I answered his call at 11 and still thinking about his words. He was apologysing for his behaviour, saying that he loves me any way, that he doesn't know how to deal with me, because i am so different and so person. He said, that he is not gonna call me anymore. May be now he is ashamed of his words, but these words is what i want to hear from him.
He was hurt, cus thought that hurt me last time. Yes, he did, but i didn't tell him about that, i never tell him anything. And now I am hurt again, i feel bad for him, i am sorry.
Just want to know that he is ok...

Was thinking one day. Actually everything, that i dream about comes true. Seems like creator listens to my thoughts and helps me out with my staff just out of curiosity what i will do with that staff.
I wanted him, i got him. I was bored, puzzled, scared and here it comes - no more him, no more me... And now I am scared, that I lost him. Don't want relashions with him, can't imagine him with somebody else.
WHY??? Where is my satisfaction with this world, my empty world, full of illusions?!? Where is my true and only love to loneliness?
I have so many questions, and thinking them over and over just rises even more chaos in my punk head.
Want to be invisable...

Pochemu melkie vonuchie ludi svoimi vibrasami derma zagriaznaiut moiu edinstvennuiu bolshuiu i velikolepnuiu jizn?

He said, that he has a special place fore me in his heart, that i don't know what he feels and thinks aboiut me. Well, I don't know and I don't care. That's strange. Only a week ago I was worried about him and stuff and now i don't feel anything. I don't even want to answer his calls.
He is so fucking handsome, stylish, tatooed, but so stupid. He doesn't see things, that i am used to see. And I don't know what to do...

I don't know. Sometimes I don't know what to think, what to feel, what I look like for others.
He hurt me. He said that I am typical. Am I? I am used to hear that I am special, different, unique, even perfect. And he said that?! And he doesn't call anymore. I am not gonna call neither. It seems that we are pretty much done here then... It bothers me, doesn't hurt, but bothers.
I like him. For nothing, just like him. But can't forgive, can't forget, can't...
One day I felt so bad and frustrated. I was walking alone, listening to music with eyes full of tears. Then I sat on a banch and started thinking about him. I needed him at that moment. And all of a sudden he called me, he was there for me.
And it's so fucking stupid of me to think about it now, cause he doesn't care anymore. He is pretty OK (I am sure). He forgot me almost or at all.
He doesn't call me, because I hurt him too...

Tired of people with their small, misarable problems, with their small thoughts and their fucking voices around. Why can't U just live without causing problems to yourself and others?

Kakim to strannim neponiatnim obrazom migaet kursor, daje pisat chto libo podozritelno. Ne nravitza mne kak gluchit etot lap top inogda, peregruzili taki mi ego nepolnozennuiu memory card. Da v prinzipe delo sovsem ne v etom i sut moego ocherednogo soobschenia toje.
Itak:
Kajdoe utro u nas nachinaetza odinakovo. Mi vstaem v chas dnia, pitaemsa proskolznut v vannuiu sovsem nezametno, chto redko udaetza i menia eto uje sovsem vivodit iz sebia. Dver protivopolojnoi komnati naraspashku otkrita i ottuda uje letiat privetstvennie Assala Maleikum. I pochemu mujiki ne umeiut zakrivat svoi grebanie na vse 180 gradusov dveri? S utra ia nenaviju ves mir, a sosedei v osobennosti, v osobennosti mujchin...
Segodnia dolgo razrabativali plan kipiachenia chainika. So vcherashnego dnia v nashem dome zavisli druzia mnogouvajaemih mnoi (osobenno s utra) sosedei. Ko vremeni nashego podiema vse 4 elementa spokoino raspolojilis na kuhne - na neitralnoi tak skazat territorii. Imenno misliami o zahvate etoi territorii i bilo zaniato moe vzbudorajennoe ne na shutku voobrajenie. Ne pridumav nichego umnogo, postupila po starinke - goticheskii makiaj, erokez na vsu golovu i mnogoobeschaiuschee virajenie liza sigrali svoiu rol. Chainik bil nash, da i kuhnia toje.
I pochemu mi doljni razrabativat strategicheskie plani prejde chem vipit chai vdvoem?

Gonna start a new life Monday. Tired to be sick, frustrated, lost and hurt. I am totally over him and I really mean it this time. I am too much for him. Sometimes it seems that I am too much even for myself. I am so totally different sometimes and I am scaring myself.
I was thinking today. A lot. No man will ever understand a woman, no woman ever understand a man. They look at us, they like us, love us, f.. us, but the thing that I can't except about them is that they don't listen to us, don't hear us at all. The convesation is impossible. They are just looking and thinking their own dirty stuff while u are breaking your heart telling them the story of your life. Come on! And then in 2-3 days they are ascking stuff that U already told them and u feel really miserable at the moment. That's how it is. May be I am not experienced enough, but through my experience I can say that they see us as nannys, fuckable friends or dolls.
We can't understad them, cause they seem to be too stupid and selfish and too perverts. They think about sex every 10 minutes, like there is no anything better in the world. But between these 10 minutes they think about something else, that we don't know and can't guess. Between every 10 minutes they are able to have real feelings, they can even become persons. And we don't see that, because they hide that thoughts. Everything that is outside is their fucking desires.
Why can't we be even? I am so tired of that social games. I am not a good player and I am a rule breaker. Monday I'm gonna live only fo myself like in old good times. Will find a second job, go to the gym, start learning spanish. That's what i want. That's gonna be cool.
I don't fucking care about them anymore, especially about Him

Don't know, how to describe everything that happened to me in last 2 weeks. The only thing I feel is pain...
It's the story of loneliness of two people. Two human beings so alike, that they just can't be together for a lonhg time, but apart feel that something is missing in their fucking stupid lifes.
His name is Kemal and hi is a boxer. A good fighter, nice person, who was hurt by different people, stupid friend, because he really is.
Why even did he come up to me on that fucking metro station. He liked the colour of my hair and since that he tries to like everything else. And he tries to hurt me too. Supposed to be a strong man, but he is not. He is fucking week or sick, watever. And I feel sorry for him.

Люди, появляясь среди себе подобных, уже не только не стремятца выглядеть красивыми, но не стремятца даже что-то предпринять, чтобы не виглядеть уродливыми!
Когда в конце концов натиск етого уродства станет совсем невыносимим, она купит в цветочном магазине незабудку, одну единственную незабудку, хрупкии стебелек с миниатюрним голубим венцом, выидет с нею на улицу и будет держать перед собои, судорожно впиваиясь в нее взглядом, чтобы видеть лишь ету единственную прекрасную голубую точку, чтобы видеть ее, как то последнее, что еи хочетца оставить для себя и своих глаз от мира, который перестала любить.
Вот такое вот на сегодня настроение. Такое настроение бивает всякий раз, когда меня незаслуженно обижают, говорят обо мне то, что ко мне не относитца, скривая за етими словами смисл более глубокий, будто я дурочка и ничего не понимаю.
Наверное раньше наша жизнь на самом деле проходила под колпаком, столько здес пришлос встретить лудеи, стол;ко разочарований.
И почему они не говорят то, о чем деиствительно думают, зачем усложнать то, что на самом деле так просто.
Пошли ви господа взрослие лиземери в Ж...Мне лучше в моем мире...

A esli postignu ia slavi i pochesti, a posle postignu, chto vse sueta, est znachit pravda - ona v odinochestve. Vechnaia pravda, a v nei krasota.

V pervii raz za vse eto vremia v NY poshla, a vernee poehala out. Zakrili vchera rano, prishel ochen horoshii drug hozaina, nu mi i reshili, buduchi ludmi odinokimi i nemnogo toskuiuschimi v dushe, poehat v klub druga druzei hozaina nashego zavedenia.
Bilo prikolno, no rech ne ob etom. Rech o tom, chto s ludmi?
Ehali obratno s Tonny i razgovarivali o jizni, nahodias v podpitom sostoianii, no sovsem ne na vesele. Mujchina 30 let, vladeiuschii setiu restoranov, iz zajitochnoi sem'i, jivet v svoe udovolstvie. Da, emu v obschem to legko i veselo, on ne lubit stress i sebia emu ne podvergaet. A vchera on raskril mne svoiu dushu, v kotoroi ziaet ogromnaia chernaia dira, kuda uhodit vse eto veselie, vse eto blagopoluchie. On odinok. U nego mnogo druzei, est horoshie blizkie druzia. Girlfrien - voobsche ne problema. Mojet imet kogo hochet i kogo ne hochet. No on odin, sam daje ne predstavlaet na skolko.
On skazal mne odnu edinstvennuiu vesc, kotoraia zastavila menia vzglanut na nego drugimi glazami. Mne stalo ego jalko. Chuvak prosto dal sovet nikomu ne verit, chto bi mne ne govorili ludi, dumat tolko o svoem, ne slushat etih govoriaschih ludei, potomuchto vsem vokrug ot tebia chto-to nado. On skazal, chto ludi budut mne govorit to, chto ia hochu slishat, to chto mne blizko, ludi vsegda budut govorit mne raznie veschi, no tolko potomuchto im chto-to nado ot menia. I ia ne doljna nikomu verit, tolko sebe.
I eto pechalno, Tonny. Takoi klassnii chuvak, dusha kompanii, ne doveraiuschaia etoi kompanii ni na odin prozent...

В колонках играет - grust

Opat taki misli , naveiannie chteniem Baha.
V kajdom iz nas ujivaetza samaia silnaia jestokost i bezgranichnaia lubov, v kajdom bez iskluchenia. Ogromnii minus i gigantskii plus. No v silu jiznennih obstoiatelstv, proisshestvii, vospitania, okrujaiuschei sredi nashe vnutrennee ia sklonaetza k odnomu iz etih polusov, vse je ne izbegaia vliania drugogo.
Vot maniaki blokiruiut plus, nahodias v otrizatelnom prostranstve. Eto ludi bolnie i poetomu ih soznanie mojet zaziklitza v odnom izmerenii. Mnogie politiki ne daleko uhodiat ot maniakov, ludi po suti svoei toje dovolno bolnie, imenno bolnaia politika privodit k voinam, beszelnim i nenujnim ubiistvam, konfliktam. Soznanie odnogo cheloveka, zapugannogo za samosohranenie, nadelennogo vlastiu privodit k smerti soten tisach ludei. Interesno, chto v etih sotnah tisach - v tisachah riadovih grajdan mojno naiti ogromnoe kolichestvo ludei, s ogromnim plusom vnutri. Da, mi ludi-plusi ne hotim vlasti, mi mechtateli i poeti, domochadzi, rabotniki. Mi udovletvoreni tem, chto imeem, ved vse moglo bit i huje, ne tak to prosto nam dostalos to, chto u nas seichas est. Mojet i prosto, mojet est v nas nekotoraia stepen vezenia, no vot moemu sosedu prishlos silno popotet, chtob jit tak, kak on seichas jivet. I ia znaiu, chto on eto ochen zenit, poetomu i ia zenu to, chto imeiu.
I pochemu k vlasti v osnove svoei prihodiat ludi, ne znaiuschie lubvi i jalosti. Ludi, ne poluchivshie bolshogo jiznennogo opita, ne videvshie mnogih aspektov jizni, prinimaiuschie samie otvetstvennie reshenia samim bezotvetstvennim obrazom.
Pochemu chelovek, lubiaschii ves mir bez iskluchenia sidit v svoei kamorke odnobedrumnoi kvartiri, sozerzaia potok dvijenioa na ulizah. I on bezgranichno schastliv, potomuchto lubit etot mir, takoi hrupkii mir, kotorim igraiut bezotvetstvennie ludi.
Kak je vse u nas nepravilno i nespravedlivo. I pochemu mi ne mojem uehat, pereselitza v kakoi-nibud parallelnii mir, gde mi vse budem prosto jit, rabotat i smeiatza. A eti bezdiri i politikani pust ostaiutza odni. Oni ved boiatza ochen silno, oni takie melochnie i pustie vnutri. I ih mir budet napolnen zlostiu, jestokostiu, zavistiu i bezgranichnim strahom...

Chitala segodnia Richarda Baha, horoshii pisatel, skuchnii, no misli virajaet v proizvedeniah ochen umnie. Tipichnii mechtatel - samoanalitik. No, pochemu-to ego hod mislei mne neveroiatno blizok, on, kak starshii mudrii brat daet ne stolko soveti, skolko podderjivaet so straniz knigi. I eto bolshe vsego mne v nem nravitza - to, chto on sposoben ponimat jizn s pozitivnoi tochki zrenia - s tochki zrenia svobodi misli.
Chitala ego teksti i nastroenie uluchshalos, kak je mne okazivaetza ne hvatalo svetlih slov, napisannih chelovekom, sumevshim virazit zabitie toboi misli. Srazu prishlo osoznanie, chto vse fignia, chto vse budet horosho, tak kak vse na samom dele horosho. I vlianie okrujaiuschih menia melochnih, zamknutih, neobrazovannih ludei, ne vidiaschih dalshe spalnogo gorshka srazu smilo iz moego prosvetlennogo teper nastroenia.
Ostalos tolko nauchitza ulibatza, ulibatza glazami i dushoi, prosto ulibatza shagaia po ulizam, ulibatza sebe i svoemu soznaniu, potomuchto ia schastliva bit ne takoi kak oni. A oni pust sidiat na ulizah vonuchego Brooklyna (loosers) i pialatza na menia skolko vlezet. mne to net do nih dela.
Odna iz fraz, odna iz samih lubimih i neosporimih :
Sdelannii nami vibor privodit nas k novim ispitaniam, a preodolenie ih pomogaet nam osoznat, chto mi vovse ne te bespomoschnie jalkie suschestva, kotorimi sami sebe inogda kajemsa. Mi - bezgranichnie virajenia jizni, zerkala, otrajaiuschie duh.
Kak horosho

Vot sideli s Leisankoi i prikalivalis, chto net lubvi, ne verim, vozmojno verim, no predmeta lubvi netu, krome muziki, estestvenno.
Vot chto rasskazivaet Platon o proishojdenii lubvi:
V drevnosti ne bilo ni mujchin, ni jenschin, a nekii splav togo i drugogo:dva liza, chetire ruki i chetire nogi, i tak dalee.Oni bili soedineni spina k spine, poetomu mogli peredvigatza kak vpered, tak i nazad. Nekotorie sostoiali iz dvuh mujskih polovin, drugie - iz dvuh jenskih, no bolshinstv bilo napolovinu mujchinoi, napolovinu jenschinoi. Et drevnie chetveronogie ludi nastolko stremilis k vlasti, chto predstavlali ugrozu dla bogov. I togda Zevs reshil razdelit ih popolam, chtobi takim obrazom umenshit ih silu. Tak poiavilis mujchini i jenschini.
No, otdelennie drug ot druga, polovinki jajdali vossoedinenia.
Vivod: Lubov - eto poiskutrachennoi polovini, vechnoe stremlenie sliania s neiu.
Vot takaia vot fignia...