Casa Viitorului! Watch out at the mother-in-law!
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daca ti ai traduce toate visele in limba materna, nu ai putea intelege cu siguranta niciodata nimic
Today is Saint Patrick's Day. Happy Birthday, Ireland!
Wikipedia says:
"The day is the national holiday of Ireland. It is a bank holiday in Northern Ireland and a public holiday in the Republic of Ireland and Montserrat. In Canada, Great Britain, Australia, the United States and New Zealand, it is widely celebrated but is not an official holiday.
It became a feast day in the Roman Catholic Church due to the influence of the Waterford-born Franciscan scholar Luke Wadding[2] in the early part of the 17th century, and is a holy day of obligation for Roman Catholics in Ireland. The feast day usually falls during Lent; if it falls on a Friday of Lent (unless it is Good Friday), the obligation to abstain from eating meat can be lifted by the local bishop. The church calendar avoids the observance of saints' feasts during certain solemnities, moving the saint's day to a time outside those periods. St. Patricks Day is very occasionally affected by this requirement. Thus when March 17 falls during Holy Week, as in 1940 when St. Patrick's Day was observed on April 3 in order to avoid it coinciding with Palm Sunday, and again in 2008, having been observed on 15 March."
dans Irlandez
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Gelozia te face sa vezi lucrurile pe care nu le puteai vedea inainte pentru ca nu erai un simplu spectator, aveai un rol bine definit, totul in jur era pus la punct, universul din care niciodata nu vroiai sa iesi pentru ca realitatea era mult prea cruda, abia dupa ce iesi din oul si mai ales bucla ta de realitate poti viziona viata ta ca pe un spectacol, trist teatru dar mai ales adevarat este faptul ca nu ti-ai rezervat biletele din timp si abia acum te simti in pielea caracterului, scaldandu-te intr-o mare de intrebari, cu falsa impresie ca totul in jur este roz si nu esti doar o alta piesa lipsa dintr-un tablou frumos, inevitabilul efemer gust de Femeie.
related with
"Sometimes when you nearly loose someone, it's like you get a chance to press the reset button, and if you're lucky you get to realise that it's all still there, you just need to recognise it.."
So many wise men these days, you can't even figure how to fix a bulb of light when in fact all you need is a push and two or 3 turns left or right likewise, but when it comes to feelings, you burp ideas that never work for you but others around you. You are full of bull eyes, like any other smartass would say :") Indeed people tend to find it more easy to give others suggestions for problems that never can be solved with the same point of view nor idea on their own self-destructing ego, no matter how hard you try, sometimes if not most of the times it fails, you fail to see the truth that lays just two or 3 inches infront of you for two or maybe 3 years, just laying there infront of you, infront of your blind just Black sight, waiting for that day when you will realise that everyone's problems are not always your problems tho, and then! yes then! you figure that you can only help others around you, starting to belive that if you do help them, maybe they will help you too, one day, two or 3 dreaming bulbs of light and shades of yellow bull and eyes, yes! that's you, the fool.
Now what can you do when nothing in your life can make you feel again? how you will fix that? let's play with logic, let's say you helped two or 3 people already so what's next? you'll just go and jump all over them with all your questions marks? how would They help you? when You can't even help yourself? how does this game works and who is gaining more off it? who's the player and who's the actual tool? shall i answer it for you? you! the fool! the biggest fool of them all whom thinks that helping others means helping yourself. Nonetheless how will they cope all your fear in one cup of 2morow, just like poof! just like that, will they help you pass this one? let's say, they do! How would you play your next card when nothing feels the same 2morow? What will you have to say, so they can take your back again, take you back from this wasteland, your piece of world that is, and keep you safe from feeling anything again, will that make you happy? is that enough ?
So many question marks painted just on this wall, this wall full pain in so many colors that one single word can summon it well, it's Black, milady, it's Black like you and fearless the sun, that sun that wakes me every single miserable day that takes me away from this dreamy silly world of mine, but hey! i might still have a piece of you painted on that wall tho, would i give up ? should i give up on you and all that, that nothingness is Black, like you milady, sweet and fearless just like i like, you! tho.If passion is gained from social interaction and friction is just that one match that lights the sparkle, what if you don't feel anything at all, but in the same time that dark curiosity lightens your spirit, then are you involved?
What else is there if no breathee conforts you and no furr off no surreal women tends to suffocate you enough, what else is there milady, will there ever be something enough? or are you just born to be Black? Another silly question, oh noe!, the clown has another question mark on his hat, how many questions can one brain sustain at any given point in life? one, two, 3.. maybe ten? There is no such called social sparkle in a molecule of dark because darkness itself residues from pain, that comes from love, that comes from friction, that comes from interaction, and fiction is just another point in time that unites all of them, painted on the same Black mind, as if blank means nothing and light means dark, then i'm forever damned to be Black, Milady! did i said enough ?!
For fck sake, will it ever be enough just to be black? when life is lying to your face it's more like your wife cheating on you right infront of you with your best friend, for fck sake's that just black, probably satting in your own bed, laughted about you, like they always have. But wait, when someone you love, cheats on you... it just destroys you, bit by bit.. your whole body is confused, just one big naughty bloody mess. And the only way out is to pay everything around you with the same bill, coin or hearts currency, you name it, get it all out of your sistem, your life, before it infects you forever, everything that reminds you of who you really are, a failure, a goddamn naughty bloody hellish messy failure, even tho your mates just call you by the last name. Now imma ask you again, is it ever enough to be Black?
Ironic isn't it? a plain messy pitch, to fckup your life, just like a bloody naughty bitch. It's like you going to rob the same bank that has been robbed two or 3 minutes earlier, but in the end you're the only one who gets cought, like that's not enough, you just happen to be Black.
Well, i hope they die laughting about such endeavors, go figure.
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