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06-03-2008 06:23
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Настроение сейчас - хочется быть понятой...
Something in the night felt like a door had been opened, an echo of the Depths of my brain. I hadn't slept in a long time. When I did, my dreams were nightmares. In a nightmare, every choice you make is a wrong one. I would wake up at night, afraid that Day was a dream I would forget. Insomnia is a gaping hole. No exit from it, and the only chance is to turn and face it, but it's looking into the dark bottom of your dead love.
You know... God was right. There are no choices. Nothing but a straight line. The illusion comes afterwards, when you ask some stupid questions like "why me?" and "what, if...?" When you look back, see the branches of Fate, like a forked lightning. If you had done something differently, it wouldn't be you. It would be someone else looking back, asking a different set of questions.
Actually, there is no pain, excepting our thoughts about our past. It's like the more you think about the life, the more it seems to be senseless. But really it has no sense.
Я в чьей-то жизни шрам...
Я в чьей-то жизни весна...
Я для кого-то гений...
А для кого-то пень...
А в чьей-то жизни я всего лишь тень...
[500x340]
вверх^
к полной версии
понравилось!
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Настроение сейчас - хочется быть понятой...
Something in the night felt like a door had been opened, an echo of the Depths of my brain. I hadn't slept in a long time. When I did, my dreams were nightmares. In a nightmare, every choice you make is a wrong one. I would wake up at night, afraid that Day was a dream I would forget. Insomnia is a gaping hole. No exit from it, and the only chance is to turn and face it, but it's looking into the dark bottom of your dead love.
You know... God was right. There are no choices. Nothing but a straight line. The illusion comes afterwards, when you ask some stupid questions like "why me?" and "what, if...?" When you look back, see the branches of Fate, like a forked lightning. If you had done something differently, it wouldn't be you. It would be someone else looking back, asking a different set of questions.
Actually, there is no pain, excepting our thoughts about our past. It's like the more you think about the life, the more it seems to be senseless. But really it has no sense.
Я в чьей-то жизни шрам...
Я в чьей-то жизни весна...
Я для кого-то гений...
А для кого-то пень...
А в чьей-то жизни я всего лишь тень...
[500x340]
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Дневник Без заголовка | Nady_Evil - I want to lose. So strange diary... |
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