A Dream...
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A Dream...
I had a dream last night. You were there. It was beautiful.
You know, just a few months ago I didn’t think I would ever be glad to meet someone in a dream… Actually, I didn’t believe I would ever be able to be glad of meeting someone again at all. Sure, I’d have my one night stands and all, but that would be more physical than anything else – no love, no emotion and certainly none of this feeling you get in your stomach when she walks into the room. I’d have none of that, I was sure. Not that I wouldn’t want to, mind you; I just wouldn’t be capable of it. Not after what I’ve been through. Not where I was at the time.
Last night we walked together on the shore and we held hands. It was beautiful.
When I’m in that mood I sit down and write. It’s easier to do than say things, especially when one’s not sure of the consequences of saying these things. The white page is comforting: it doesn’t argue, it doesn’t react, and it doesn’t laugh at you as people would (or could…) It just sits there, waiting, absorbing all you have to say. Foolish, right? I know, I’m a fool. I have been, all my life. Last time I wrote something was about five years ago… And, guess what, I was hurt again. Not as much as those other times though, I think I was getting used to it by that time.
Then we sat down and watched the sunset. It was beautiful.
They say everyone has their own soul mate. Frankly, I’ve always thought this to be a bit of an overstatement. I mean, seriously! What are the chances? Does that mean you have just one chance of happiness in your life? What if you miss this chance? What’s more, how do you even begin to know when you’ve found her? Sure, there are such things as common interests, finishing each other’s sentences, having common views on the world and so on, but can this be it? Isn’t it a bit prosaic? (I know, I said I’m a fool, and I stick by it.)
We talked and listened to the waves. It was beautiful.
I tend to overanalyze things lately. I probably shouldn’t, but I do. I guess I believe it helps me take the right decisions. (Then again, I said I’m a fool, didn’t I?) Or protects me from being hurt again. I am not so sure anymore. I just lie in bed at night and think. It calms me down, I guess. Possibly also helps me understand the world around me… Why do we do what we do? Why are we who we are? Why are we here? Why does all that matter?! Something’s missing. What could it be? The list goes on and on, this is just an illustration…
Then I walked you home and you gave me a kiss goodnight. It was beautiful because you were there.
I guess what I’m trying to say is: I believe again now. I believe in you. Be my comforting, yet arguing, reacting and even laughing white page. Let me write my story on you, the new one. The one in which there are no one night stands, only positive emotions and love. No wondering about soul mates, only the certainty of their existence found in you. No overanalyzing, I’m tired of that stuff. No more fools. Just that nice feeling when you enter the room… Be my friend, but be a whole lot more than that too. Be my world. Be my soul. Be me.
Be mine.
You know, just a few months ago I didn’t think I would ever be glad to meet someone in a dream… Actually, I didn’t believe I would ever be able to be glad of meeting someone again at all. Sure, I’d have my one night stands and all, but that would be more physical than anything else – no love, no emotion and certainly none of this feeling you get in your stomach when she walks into the room. I’d have none of that, I was sure. Not that I wouldn’t want to, mind you; I just wouldn’t be capable of it. Not after what I’ve been through. Not where I was at the time.
Last night we walked together on the shore and we held hands. It was beautiful.
When I’m in that mood I sit down and write. It’s easier to do than say things, especially when one’s not sure of the consequences of saying these things. The white page is comforting: it doesn’t argue, it doesn’t react, and it doesn’t laugh at you as people would (or could…) It just sits there, waiting, absorbing all you have to say. Foolish, right? I know, I’m a fool. I have been, all my life. Last time I wrote something was about five years ago… And, guess what, I was hurt again. Not as much as those other times though, I think I was getting used to it by that time.
Then we sat down and watched the sunset. It was beautiful.
They say everyone has their own soul mate. Frankly, I’ve always thought this to be a bit of an overstatement. I mean, seriously! What are the chances? Does that mean you have just one chance of happiness in your life? What if you miss this chance? What’s more, how do you even begin to know when you’ve found her? Sure, there are such things as common interests, finishing each other’s sentences, having common views on the world and so on, but can this be it? Isn’t it a bit prosaic? (I know, I said I’m a fool, and I stick by it.)
We talked and listened to the waves. It was beautiful.
I tend to overanalyze things lately. I probably shouldn’t, but I do. I guess I believe it helps me take the right decisions. (Then again, I said I’m a fool, didn’t I?) Or protects me from being hurt again. I am not so sure anymore. I just lie in bed at night and think. It calms me down, I guess. Possibly also helps me understand the world around me… Why do we do what we do? Why are we who we are? Why are we here? Why does all that matter?! Something’s missing. What could it be? The list goes on and on, this is just an illustration…
Then I walked you home and you gave me a kiss goodnight. It was beautiful because you were there.
I guess what I’m trying to say is: I believe again now. I believe in you. Be my comforting, yet arguing, reacting and even laughing white page. Let me write my story on you, the new one. The one in which there are no one night stands, only positive emotions and love. No wondering about soul mates, only the certainty of their existence found in you. No overanalyzing, I’m tired of that stuff. No more fools. Just that nice feeling when you enter the room… Be my friend, but be a whole lot more than that too. Be my world. Be my soul. Be me.
Be mine.
Re: A Dream...
За малко да припадна, ако на въпроса за музиката в другия клуб беше отговорил "готик".
Красиво е, но аз наистина мисля, че на български можеш и по-добре.
...And never again will my letters start
sadly, or in the depths of winter...
Re: A Dream...
За съжаление съм опитвал на български, но не се получава така, както ми се иска... 
Re: A Dream...
Be my world. Be my soul. Be me.
Най-класическата глупост на романтичния нарцисист.
И колко страдания после заради тези химери?
Никой не може да бъде нечия душа или нечий свят.
Що се влюбват хората - щото си търсят някой друг да им запълва липсите или да им храни химерите. Някой друг поне точно толкова заблуден, че да могат двамата взаимно да се лъжат (и да си чешат его-гадинките), ако и да е до време това. От тези "химерните" излизат най-романтичните писания, трагичното е, че малките, които тепърва започват, все гледат да "преписват" от тях. И после ред сълзи, ред сополи, ред жалби в клуб Любов.
Докато се научат, че трябва така:
Be your world. Be your soul. Be yourself.

Най-класическата глупост на романтичния нарцисист.
И колко страдания после заради тези химери?
Никой не може да бъде нечия душа или нечий свят.
Що се влюбват хората - щото си търсят някой друг да им запълва липсите или да им храни химерите. Някой друг поне точно толкова заблуден, че да могат двамата взаимно да се лъжат (и да си чешат его-гадинките), ако и да е до време това. От тези "химерните" излизат най-романтичните писания, трагичното е, че малките, които тепърва започват, все гледат да "преписват" от тях. И после ред сълзи, ред сополи, ред жалби в клуб Любов.
Докато се научат, че трябва така:
Be your world. Be your soul. Be yourself.
Re: A Dream...
Въпрос на лично мнение и гледна точка е кое е по-нарцисистично.
Както и кои са "химерните", малките и дали винаги има "ред сълзи, ред сополи, ред жалби в клуб Любов".
Както и кои са "химерните", малките и дали винаги има "ред сълзи, ред сополи, ред жалби в клуб Любов".
Re: A Dream...
Малко офтопик, че ми стана интересно - какво точно в прога харесваш?
А писането - ами както дойде. Чудех се дали и тя така те сънува - може да се срещнете в някой общ сън.
...And never again will my letters start
sadly, or in the depths of winter...
А писането - ами както дойде. Чудех се дали и тя така те сънува - може да се срещнете в някой общ сън.
...And never again will my letters start
sadly, or in the depths of winter...
Re: A Dream...
Каква гледна точка бе човек, не виждам кое точно не разбра, че да вземеш и друга гледна точка да му намериш... стига с тез гледни точни, пречат на мисленето!
Нещастията на човека се дължат на неспособността му да стои сам в тишината!
Нещастията на човека се дължат на неспособността му да стои сам в тишината!
Re: A Dream...
[линк]





Be yourself. Be your soul.Be your world. ....... and send an invitation to YOUR friends if YOU wish





[линк]
Be yourself. Be your soul.Be your world. ....... and send an invitation to YOUR friends if YOU wish
[линк]
Re: A Dream...
Schiller Mit Heppner - Dream Of You
I've been here all the time
As far as I know doing right
I've always waited for the moment
That you would come through my door
But this brought loneliness so far
I lay my hand onto my heart
Is this the life I want to live
Is this the dream I had of you?
But this brought loneliness so far
I lay my hand onto my heart
Is this the life I want to live
Is this the dream I had of you...
the dream I had of you?
Now I'm standing here alone
I'm waiting on my own
For something that will fill the emptiness inside
The moment that you're mine
But this is loneliness I know
I lay my hand onto my soul
Is this what life has got to give
Is this the dream I had of you...
The dream I had of you?
But this is loneliness I know
I lay my hand onto my soul
Is this what life has got to give?
Is this the dream,
the dream I had of you?
THE WORLD IS MINE
I've been here all the time
As far as I know doing right
I've always waited for the moment
That you would come through my door
But this brought loneliness so far
I lay my hand onto my heart
Is this the life I want to live
Is this the dream I had of you?
But this brought loneliness so far
I lay my hand onto my heart
Is this the life I want to live
Is this the dream I had of you...
the dream I had of you?
Now I'm standing here alone
I'm waiting on my own
For something that will fill the emptiness inside
The moment that you're mine
But this is loneliness I know
I lay my hand onto my soul
Is this what life has got to give
Is this the dream I had of you...
The dream I had of you?
But this is loneliness I know
I lay my hand onto my soul
Is this what life has got to give?
Is this the dream,
the dream I had of you?
THE WORLD IS MINE
Re: A Dream...
Не знам защо не ти се получава на български, това точно би звучало по абсолютно същия начин, няма да се загуби нито смисъла, нито красотата, преведи си го и ще видиш!
Много е хубаво, че има хора (все още), които бленуват такива неща.

Re: A Dream...
ДТ стават
Я кажи сега - ти това горе даде ли й го да го чете или го пусна тук с надеждата тя сама да го намери?
...And never again will my letters start
sadly, or in the depths of winter...
Я кажи сега - ти това горе даде ли й го да го чете или го пусна тук с надеждата тя сама да го намери?
...And never again will my letters start
sadly, or in the depths of winter...
Re: A Dream...
ДТ просто "стават"? Майтапиш се, нали?
А на въпроса: Нито едното, нито другото.
Всъщност как ли би го намерила?!
Нещо, пуснато от някой, стоящ зад някакъв ник. Защо да съм аз? Защо да е за нея?
Писах го, защото исках да го напиша. Пуснах го, защото не исках да го загубя някъде сред останалата бъркотия без никой да го е прочел.
Това е.
А на въпроса: Нито едното, нито другото.
Всъщност как ли би го намерила?!
Писах го, защото исках да го напиша. Пуснах го, защото не исках да го загубя някъде сред останалата бъркотия без никой да го е прочел.
Това е.
Re: A Dream...
Майтапях се.
Разбирам това желание, и на мен ми се е случвало, но винаги съм и съжалявала, че ще остане безответно. Че ще изтлее в пространството и няма да достигне този, който го е предизвикал.
...And never again will my letters start
sadly, or in the depths of winter...
Разбирам това желание, и на мен ми се е случвало, но винаги съм и съжалявала, че ще остане безответно. Че ще изтлее в пространството и няма да достигне този, който го е предизвикал.
...And never again will my letters start
sadly, or in the depths of winter...