No doubts
So many years
In game I play
In bullet-proof vest
To pin I break


PIL - This Is Not A Love Song



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♥ My Facebook ♥

gold has run up, on bathroom edge.
with hot coal, two hearts floating.
two hearts cook.
love boil down.
the tenderness.
the hate.
let's follow heart -
let's die in happyness.

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Mikesh Kaos

not only my amazingly close friend.
beautiful soul person
talented photographer
judge of beauty and depth
and owner of ♥ Pentacon Six TL ♥














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My Facebook

with thin wire the nerve will burst.
clouds up are easier and more silent.
as my blood pulses! You hear?
even more silently.

....someone..something on my heart writes....


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i lead up to spasms..
i follow from the lying-in woman.
light beats - beats in an emphasis, but
absolutely not scary.
i am too small to begin crying.
from a pain.
i do not have eyes and i am similar
on a beautiful mole.. in patches..

i am born through a throat.

throw out all in air –
i am absolutely sick ...

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my personal genius
v a s s o g a

loudly heart knocks in an ear.
silent houses, silent streets.
sleepy shades.
death today, obviously, not in mood.
silent houses, silent streets.
i bleed with perfectly red.
with silent bird i fly from a roof.
never i put last dot.
always with a cigarette.
and always alone.
silent heart silently breathes.

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geometry
motions
movements
lan-gu-or.
exchanging glances
by dialects.
by explosions.
by pleasures of ear.
whisper to one another.
by roadways, areas,
by bridges..

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a few centimetres of electricity
winding on a finger.
he long sat on something squeaky.
and then understood everything:
minutes disintegrate on seconds
under own weight.
and select energy.
sufficient to go out far away from here.
i belive that somewhere there still are happy women.
dressed in white, transparent, lung.
and men near them..
with glasses filled with transparent sparkling ice.

[link]



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smell of your cigarettes, replacing me fresh air.
hoarse cough of a rain somewhere over our umbrella.
the weak beam of the sun studies us scrupulously.
we walk in crowd among hundreds and thousand persons.
we punch with light of our eyes a gloom of this life.

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the asphalt sound speaks about ease.
it is possible to hear ur own steps.
windows are not closed.
regiments contain textbooks and old calendars.
there is only one city in my dream.
it has let me know a long time ago,
stereotypes left scars.
mainly imagination.
imagination and opened window.
the curtain burns...
not good.

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i feel breath of spring,
catching it with my cold lips.
spring goes with easiest steps,
their echoes in my soul are audible.
i feel excitement of snow,
that silently thaw under it breath.
without leaving any traces.



we are "Dragonfly" band
группа "Стре-КОЗА"

Dolphin - Spring

happiness - decomposing.
fails through the clouds of dreams and disappear.
to release thoughts,
verses,
senses.
fallen from height,
not to death broken.
alive.

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all hear us..
I – its you in past life,
but only when we together.
I could become your dawn,
but became your song.
let me become a bit weaker now.
only i am able on it.
yes, i am really able to expose you my soul.
by wind on roofs.
i tear off wires.
all hear us..


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spring
with metaphysics.
words sounding..
i treat to you
by expectation..
sky shines.
i with my hands
collect clouds
from window-sills.
i will give you
all, that is in me.
i am not present anymore...
i am in my spring.

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my

cant fall asleep
as sick little child
give me a bromine.

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я проделала чёрный путь
на багровый закат.
я черпала горстями грусть
из пустых зеркал.
я любила за бледно-рыжие волосы
непоседливую весну.
и молчала стального цвета голосом.


* * *

i went a black way
on purple sunset.
i ladled with my palms sadness
from empty mirrors.
i loved for pale-red hairs restless spring.
and was quiet with steel-color voice.


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by
~efimov

without a gratitude in the cat's eyes.
she will disappear..
like she never could forgive his caresses...

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Our time is a trap from sleeps and fairy-tales.
A cocktail mixed up from naive truths.
I have collection of different paints.
And sometimes I change my brushes.
Filling days by you..
By a warmth and light.


Depeche Mode - Wrong



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frozen strand of hair
against a collar batters with a metronome
9 days of winter left..
and we will straddle a Sun.

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- Ev, do u smoke?
- No, that is Chupa-Chups...
- And what drawn on ur t-shirt? Is that Marihuana?
- Nooo.. it's a snowflake...



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lovley



made my day more sunny

I still smell with tulips,
Collected from your gardens.
Drawn with chalk of consciousness,
On the gifts of my responsibility.
It still smells with dew.
My slippery absence.

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calm me
with sky nerves
with sun light
with shivering leaves
with tobacco pouch
with a silicon pebble

farewell, farewell my loneliness
the prince of the overdue died belief


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ohhh my
i got my first DD
and i am really shocked..

thanks to

for suggestion



thanks to

for feature

It would be better to make a coffee
and flow down in a cup like sugar
Than on thought, to adjust
Penultimate radio.

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p e r s o n a l

f e t i s h

Got used
to fall
from such
height,
that,
seems,
soon
will learn
to fly...

I want to fill air around me
with anything unconcerned-blue..

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[link]

in general..
i am from old times taking criticism very adequately..
do u love me?
u like what i do?..
super.. you make me happy...
eat me with butter... with it i am more delicious..
do not love me?
it is normal..
do you consider that there is no talent in me?
all right, I am in long depressed nights sometimes think that 2..
I love all reactions.. they are important to me..
one do me stronger, producing in me a desire to be better, other as prizes of encouragement..
for
"I am such good girl"..

but u know, criticism of my models pissing me off..
cheap..
not enough rolled..
not beautiful..
empty..
thick..
not born to be a model..
is that criticism of my art?
for what i need such a comments?

then more logical will be to say that I shitty represented a man..
that I did not show his individuality..
how it is possible in general to pass on personalitys?
I do not afford such things, even with a humans which was shittiting in my soul..
and u talk so, even not knowing these people..
what right do you have?
what a fuck?
where ur sense of tactfulity?





!!выпейте яду!!

[link]
[link]

that guys have something under they skins

i am masturbating and crying...
try it...

a black dot droops a blot
here will become taut now..
will explode a banger!
and fragments will fly up sparkling..
sowing the iridescent ringing.
it is a laught, not a moan.
not crystal we are - alive.

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my pulse was evened to 36 and 6 on Celcius.
a temperature approached to 108.
probably, like Kevin and Kline.
oh as merrily..
numbers were tired of me, devil took them.


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