Kitabı oku: «She miss you», sayfa 3
Hanging legs
Rain, snow, a mishmash, changing during the day. The wind is light piercing, the sun strokes with its rays, indulges, flirts with inconstancy. The lips are bright. The tones on the cheeks are styled. Heels are unattainable. A chinchilla is thrown over it. Pedal to the screech of rubber. The bits are completely unscrewed. Move. Sticking to yourself with friends with fake, nodding zero likes, not investing a single bit of energy with honesty, splashing with delight, miring in the fog of your own importance. At the first need for help, renouncing employment, massage, business trips, urgent meetings, global meetings, as empty in content as the unsubscriber. Offers are hung on poles, to the shelter of the unbalanced, with inflated about their own, financially dependent, with shuffling postscripts about the wishes of physical parameters. Enslaved to unicorns, dumbing down the runners with fictional content, forcing them to take out the last thing that at least a little distracts from the corner, to remember that they are just children in the shells of adults. Often, without a purpose, with foam, they defend exclusively other people’s interests, swallowing the remains of crumbs that have not been harvested, in order to drag the tired, amuse themselves with happy other people’s fakes. Difficult. Want. Friday evening, playful, as in childhood, captivated funny. The main thing is to find interest in similar ones, captivating with variety, exciting playing, and playing from the heart, so that in the evening without backs and in a moment you can sleep. Like every game, it doesn’t matter at all, in fact, nothing changes globally from the created movement, not to mention the content splashed out in excitement. Watching how each creature in hunger or in luxury brings humanity, mired in greedy boredom, closer to the loan.
Friday. Distract. Restaurant. Noise. Hum. Nods. Intertwined with the connections of a small polis. New meeting. Staten. Well-groomed within the establishment. The degree affects, weaving phrases with his tongue in an attempt to impress. Sorting out the next rubble of rooms, the sewage collector talked about his sincerity, impromptu reading the lines created at breakfast. a feeling of gray cold. Politely. Changing it to the usual old one. Another meeting with the habits of playing in your own way, purring for no more than 1-2-3 nights of continuous, underwater, deep, satiating your predatory to the fullest, and then it is difficult to hide the present. Distancing. It is impossible on stage without rest, you need a sip of the usual smoke spoiled in those very lungs. Yousmoke your pack of crumpled. Skip a couple of jokes of fitting, similar to the answer, smiling at the similar former habitual inhabitants. The price, sorry, is to drop all the things comfortably planned, and give your dedicated heart to his. great… preserved, sifting into more thoroughbred, in abundance. Having affairs, but not so deeply absorbed, immersing herself to the slightest particle of his mood, catching, as if an expert in perfumery, the slightest shades of mood smells. Exalting them above others. In any case, any next torn flap slightly pulls the remaining heat, but it does not hurt so much. Soberly, without pink drawings of his own watercolor of his warm colors. Yes, ill-mannered, especially in a rage, with the dirty boards of a little girl boarded up inside, with huge trusting eyelashes. Not knowing where to rush when in a vacuum and there is nothing to breathe, continuing to circle in fun stretched on merry-go-rounds, hastily assembled with their own hands. I want a shelter with my wild, shaggy, understanding without words. The market is absolutely filled with sharp impudence competitors, those who are more fond of that predatory, with his aggression, subduing, cynicism, hanging with flasks of sarcasm. How many broken birds need one with a grin, for protection, stupid attempts to throw their bridle, to climb, hanging their legs.
Slammed. “Buddy, bring the bill. For whom? Who will understand? Not all of them, the lines fall out of awareness. Perhaps I need to re-read it, but, like them, I have no time, I am hungry for quick emotions. Champagne, caviar, chocolate – all on me. Announced. Soon. Where is the passport? It seems that I put it myself. Rude. Sharp. Talentless. I spit other people’s phrases. Sarcasm rivers. And with whom to be polite? I read yours, swallowing, thinking, as in the network, in my own attempts to scan the mood. I missed you insanely. Holding my breath. Drowning. Howling. Limbs failing. Senseless. Fool. I need you. With my own… to 2 m, close, large. I want, I want so much to sob, hiding with the top of my head, a little girl. I want to… to make faces like a monkey. To joke with the author’s, to laugh sincerely. Prepare. Kiss with tenderness. Let me send buns. Wake up with an early. Jog at dawn by the ocean. I really missed you so much. To a frenzy. Do you hear? Fly in. Take me, stupid. I want to climb up, chatter, hanging my legs down.”
Little fool
The snow sweeps, beats on the warmth, accompanying the tongues of cold, pierces. Testing with enviable periodicity for strength, creeping up with caresses, the wild wag good-naturedly their tails. Something went wrong, something was not enough, a lack of sincerity, a mishmash of bodies in relationships. And in the past, he was as loyal as possible, only indifference inside did not allow him to provide a response. They brought me up, forcing me to read, not rushing to weigh, I quickly get bored with the regularity of the right words, I want delights, songs, champagne foam, dance, dance with my eyes shut, not letting a single thought with the sober ones. Dirty soles on the clean, devalued by their own actions and attitude. The bass thunders, reverberating in the lungs, the body automatically writes out the learned movements. Exalted by weakness, allowing you to slap the ignorant others with the author’s sarcasm. Her own opinion has long been lost, she is replaced by a breeze among the important ones, there is no foundation, she is forced to bend her back behind candy wrappers on plastic, at the same time trying to subordinate admirers to her capriciousness for free. Continuing to row, row, row, gushing with his own importance. Losing sincere devotees along the way, buying temporary ones on sale for half the price. The smell of the flowers given, sorting, bringing to the headboard those that are field with sincerity. Fatigue. Rare attempts to put on display the worn-out external happiness, and then, sticking in the evening, scrupulously counting empty likes. Quoting lines exclusively from others, spied on, laziness and the limitation of the vocabulary to the lace of one’s own thoughts. Confusion among the internal, anarchy of the characters, alternately captivating power over the gray. No tranquility, absent in the absolute. Amusing the hostess with new entertainments, like jesters, crushing each other through each other. Silence. The next domineering try to test, taming with gold, pulling up, luring with windy compliments, alternating inanimate trinkets. Boredom mortal, malignant boredom, requires a holiday yesterday, and today it is aimed at warmth in a bear’s embrace, tomorrow it is hungry again from the lack of public demand. Gray insomnia is mixed with a howl of hunger. Others of the former ones turned off the tubes with oxygen, immersing themselves in the creation for years. And who will pamper you? Moving away from the shamelessly predatory, having had enough of night fireworks. Launching a short-term menagerie for the night with vulgarity, until dawn, after seeing off without coffee, slamming and again in my own star until late, indulging, I liked it so before, I was as disgusted as possible. Achievements, names, nicknames are not recorded. Getting out, squeezing, maneuvering sharply, occasionally oncoming to the oncoming road to wake up, plunging into superficial companies. Understanding the meaning of each flutter of the outer threads of the webs, the nets are scattered like traps on the branches. Distracted from the tinsel of the air. Fatigue is felt. Fear of age is increasingly constrained.
Slammed. “Bill, please. How are you doing? It’s cold? Miss. The flight is next. Announced. Pore. He waited, splashing. There are more and more cynical examples of couples coexisting. They are cynical in their judgments, washing out kindness even in their judgments. More and more often it smells like sewage in a decent relationship. Accidentally watching at sunset by the ocean, couples, arranging themselves comfortable, marking the boundaries with the number of nods with approval in joint contacts, consolidating budgeting, bed rules with schedules, reset interest from established hopelessness as much as possible. Windy. A little vulgar. Cynical by choice. It is good for its lightness. Tested for loyalty. Funny looks. Spoiled. Sporty hobbies. The possessiveness is wild. Selective in sincerity. Little fool. Selfish occasionally. I only missed it. Will you come? Come with hugs. Capture your tenderness with a smile.”
Are there such people?
You need such a stranger. Incomprehensible. Special. Eccentric? Self-sufficient. Generous. Cheerful. Kind. Indulgent to whims. Not like others. Predatory. Bright. Charismatic. Caring. Self-nourishing. Loving. Tall. Big. Ambitious. Strange? Stranger? Stranger by the fire. Frozen wood of hypocrisy. Proclaiming loneliness, if without similarity. In the glimpses of the fire, trying to see those who are alike, a little bit, a thread, a cell, a little similar. into the fire – let them crackle, but they will dry out. Scattering the accumulated diamonds, they are worth nothing in the complete silence of the vacuum. Only stars, splashes of the sleeping ocean, tangerines, silence with sand. But the wounds that are with them nourish the bandages. He howled coldly, asking to leave his loved ones. Punishing the shameless, predatory, ill-mannered, at the first stage, not letting their sewer stupidity come closer. There are them, strange, not subject to influence, absent in the nets, with their own opinion, without haste, they do not voice aloud, more often observing the habits of others, sifting. Ridiculous are fears, clogging the planks of the closets of the past, attempts to bury, forgetting that sprouts always break through the rubble of cobblestones, fear of dating, fearing submission, no courage. Grinning, driving into hysterics, only to indicate the boundaries of politeness, it is common for spoiled people to break the boundaries out of boredom. Sometimes, plunging into the circus of gallopers, choosing an angle to capture the successful, participating in the emptiness of the, they select after, swarming, one out of a thousand for external likes. They were brought up by shamelessly irresponsible parental invested greatness, significance, lulled by windy compliments, and then, abandoning one, spreading their paws as much as possible in bewilderment, similar to how after the five-year plan of the higher without a parachute they abandoned with obsolete luggage, unclaimed. Stepping along their own path, whistling with a smile. Immersing themselves in the new, testing hypotheses exclusively in practice, turning off their own clues of smells. Mirroring, mirroring shamelessly, strangers, picked up on the go. Knowingly assuming the imperfection of feelings by years of cultivated touch. Not paying attention to the uncomfortable, brushing aside over time, weighing the aftertaste. Maybe he was not right, she thought she was too exclusive, perhaps there were those who wrote their own. But fears also fetter them. It would be hard together, and we would be beautiful, weighed by adulthood or young at heart inside, not paying attention to passport passports, but we are, as we are. Everyone has their own path, and it is possible that somewhere in a dozen they will cross by chance because of the threads that bind.
Slammed. “How are you? Miss. How about you? How are you? A little warmer? Melted. Sun? Not a cloud? Sport? Pages of books? Girls? Bits? Dance? Do you still meet the sunrises? Fly. Sent. Inconsistency. I recognize it in moments. Attempts to buy for cheap. Fly in. Do you hear?”
Cappuccino
The bar is sublime among others. Devastated by degrees, beaten with bats, as if with veins, beef, tired. Fine porcelain, silver utensils sparkle with sparks. A dozen unwashed cups with the remains of Colombian wine, disorderly. Quarrelling, attempts to guess on the squeezed, fondant traces are violet, pale scarlet, pink, carelessly smeared. caressing the lobes. There are no loud words. Fatigue. Sleepy, early, the vaults are zeroed out. Bar, twilight, tones are muffled. The murmur of the words of the tired has ceased, during the night the vocal voices are squeezed out, touching with drunken lips, the tip of the tongue is exhausted, kisses coral, in the cart exchanging in the absence for other ways. Gossipy. Discussing black holes, twinkling stars, manicure ruined, the price of leather, recommended for plastic, other checks. at the bar for gifts and drinks, pay with mysterious currency: “Sorry”, “I’m sorry”, “I’m not interested”, “We are different”, “That’s how I feel at the moment”. Partings are five minutes long until the next moments of boredom, and only when exhausted, another predatory weave with clothes torn off the sheets with languid sighs. And again thin fingers are intertwined, hanging on the remnants of warmth, giving away the last remnants of second-hand clothes. So occasionally there are similar in perception, comfort in the exchange of cobwebs of words, sarcasm. The copper bell on the door peacefully sniffs, silence penetrates the arteries like poison. No one goes in and out, there is no strength. Heavy, unwieldy bar shops froze, holding softness, balancing with balance, exposing the holes in tights, sleeping grays. Those rare moments – thoughts froze, switchmen exhaled on the tracks, tired of sorting out the chaos of the oncoming swarm of trains. A rare peace inside – they switched to neutral. Twilight, the candles, melted, went out. A mess of bodies, a mess of glasses left behind. Love of loneliness. Unfinished, young, unceremoniously red argues with long-aged, single-malt, seasoned: “I am dear, refined and beautiful, only recently plucked. How can I be equal to you? And the smell, the smell, phew, man. How dare you with me at all?.. Know your place.” Not paying attention, it continues to spread, absorbing, merging into one with the blood flows, ohintoxicating, capturing for a long time, feeling that it has not yet fully saturated the degree. It gives off grains. The bar is tired. The bar requires new energy after sleep. A cup of cappuccino, thrown on the bar, milky-fresh innocence, whole, untouched. Looking around with fright – not so long ago cooked. Is it in it that happiness is hidden? Silence. A pile of bodies without energy is sleeping. A pile of brands, views, a hunger for exquisite entertainment. It’s cooled down. Maybe, among others, someone likes a cold drink? Left alone.
Slammed. “Again, as always, it is difficult. How are you? Sunny? Spring? Chirping birds? And I’m flying again. Young man, bring the bill. Announced. Pore. Laugh. And again I fly in search of myself, long-term comfort. I calculated the previous ones. I asked from the edge at the porthole. The clouds are playing with me. How are you? It happens. I read other people’s made-up stories. I started jogging along. Feet get stuck. The ocean is flirting. Young pink lifts. Fire cares. You are missing. Miss. Fly in. Do you hear?”
Rainy
Rain. Beats. Beats. Beats. Shameless. Vulgar. Narcissistic. Peeps. Laziness, shackled mercilessly, does not let go of the limbs. Envelops. Champagne of yesterday is a fog. Down blankets are crumpled, scattered. Pillows cry with the remains of the lip. Tights are torn in several tears. Sleepy. Tired of meetings with templates. More and more among the services meetings with secretive sociopaths, amusingly disguising themselves with the matter of politeness, especially getting bogged down in the codes of technology. trackers, but in general a dream with buns. Shuddering. Bed. The rain is impudent. Coolness on the body with goosebumps. Spring. Special. It is impossible without the feeling of being in love. Pink petals wither inside.
Rain. Spoiler. He is amused. Bam. Bam. Bam. It thunders, waking up, playing its own. Sometimes one touch is enough to reach the first letters, carried away by the lips from the breath of thoughts inside, and there is a gray abyss. On the screen there are a ton of unanswered, similar, lonely, condemned to loneliness. There is mortal boredom. It’s burned there. Without attractions, languid gray. It spins a whirlpool of similar strategies, twenty-four, no more. Aroma of coffee. In an immense bed with a star. Forgive? What do you mean? Not negotiable. Tougher. Slightly arching the back for the pleasures of oncoming people. Massage with obedient tips. Softness. Woolen. Stupid. Empty cries of devotion.
And the rain. He plays hard. He indulges. Over there. Over there. Over there. There is a knock on the tin of the windowsills. Collected things, instantly resetting connections, a new offer without guarantees, but with sweet texts. Risk. It’s possible. But the potential is exciting smells. Budgets. Unlimited cards. A little warmth. The heart is sizzling in the frying pan, uncomfortable on the flame. There are those who are used to being dissatisfied with attempts, especially when they are unsuccessful, trampling to shreds, mixing the best with dirt, spilling aggression, losing word combinations, and then swallowing the prescribed ones. Funny, spoiled. Filters mask the tin of reality, the sand pours down, counting its own. The effect of a puddle, it is known that you will be all splashed with someone else’s depression, failures, jumps in aggression, but you forget and warm in the spring you lead to the rooms, burning yourself in the silence of the wild jungle, and it is in this one that the archived is launched, and there is a darkness of mold, you smile silently with gratitude to the reciprocal silence. Archiving the funny former. And the rain does not allow you to sleep, rambles, disturbs, calls to breathe fresh.
Slammed. “Difficult, difficult, divide the sentences. Tell a smooth, accessible story. Let them spy on other people’s actions, luxury, entertain wandering readers with sweet content. But it’s up to you. How are you doing? Are you cold? Sun? Wind? Rain by the scruff of the neck? Are you messing around? And I have a vacuum. I catch temporary comfort from loneliness. Holding licks at a distance. Swallow. Until the shift. And you? The dog has been visiting for a long time, the one she wanted. No aggression. Apparently, those who will not survive without warmth are drawn to me. Purposeful, with a blond smell. He meets me wagging. He sees him off sleepily. He pokes his nose into the bag. He smells food. The chomping woman rejoices. He wags, feeling like a master in nature. Missing you. Really. Stupid. I have prepared tons of warmth for you. I want warmth, with my lips in the palm of my hand. Emptiness without you, despite the movement outside. Fly in. Hear? I’ll kiss you. I’ll spoil you. I missed you.”
Pros
Now. Want to. Now. Now she was whispering, shackling, terrible, very scary, as if magnetism was forcing her to move closer along her vectors, dissolving herself into a stupid fog inside. Let’s ride. Let’s ride. Let’s ride. The view of the mountains from the porthole resembles rugged life paths, scorched yellow deserts, black mountains with shaggy caps of snow, kingdoms of snow and ice. Walks in the spring rain. Exhaustion without fresh. Merci, enough. Climbing into the catacombs, and then down the bomb shelters of the inner closets. Buying in bulk, writing checks for tons of the white world in armfuls, hastily laying out from the basket black, mixed with gray thoughts, sticky dirt, contagious. On… and vulgar thoughts. The inner dragon of veins forges thousands of aggressions, eats them from the inside. Without energy, the earth is shaky, there is no energy, they cannot blossom and develop, they only suck up, scoop up and climb the steps with their palms torn in blood, a soul saturated with sarcasm.
Easier from afar. It’s easier not to touch with expectations, hopes from the words spoken. When they see each other, the magic of the warmth preserved in the memory of a person will disappear, because there is always warmth about the past.
Bell. Nocturnal. It is possible that on the last exhalation. Even if it crawls dripping, they will not open, drowning in amusing pride. Millions are sent into darkness in the hope of falling into a similar state. Deja vu. At the fence there will be no one who trusts, the same foolishly proud. Some, all my life I have been looking for a father. Not in the sense of snuggling up and whining to him about problems, but in the sense of being an example, advice. You will smile, but there were several of them. After outgrowing them in his development, it does not mean at all that he achieved more. Observing, repeating movements, words with emotions, understanding over time what their gold was worth, that the human was given as a tribute to luxury, comparing the paths comfortable to my heart and comparing them with theirs.
They were found, they gave them the opportunity to earn and grow for them, certainly not for money, but to be praised, even just with an approving nod. Not being a freeloader, bringing prey from the forest to the throne, satisfying his pride in his luck in hunting. Hone his hunting skills, choosing a larger predator. The interest is only if there is a benefit to multiply candy wrappers. Human interest has been nullified. Hunting goes on according to all the rules: bait, traps, bored steel shot waiting for a shot, the silence of the birds hiding. And then silence, the exceptional indifference of the vacuum. Over time, it does not touch at all, understanding the threads that bind, forcing smiles to pull for profit.
Slammed. “It’s difficult. How are you? Play? Are you messing around? Aren’t you tired? Will you come? Miss. Other cons? And after? Will you finish?”
