Ne-Ljubav / No-Love

! This post was written long ago. What you're reading is not necessarily how I feel about things in 2017. This blog was started by an 18-year-old in 2001. Please, keep that in mind before you freak out.

Love is a many...no, wait. Love is a word used without thinking about it. It's unclear what some people call love, it's unclear why there are those who filter love based on their perception of what it should be, it's unclear why some people reject love and symbolically rip apart those who have no other hidden intentions, and instead are just giving love, plain and simple.

This is for their kind of people. I added some pathetic endearments to make it melodic, which probably means it is no longer sincere, as only they are allowed to make things pathetic, as they definitely and absolutely know what love is, though they wouldn't recognise it even if it entered their rear end and opened itself up like an umbrella.

So, yeah, it even feels good to stab such people and mock them. Why? Because no type of love is worth more than another type of it. This was written while feeling particularly black on the 10th of October this year. It feels much better to read it while listening to Light From A Dead Star by Lush. The band, not the cosmetics.

Ne-Ljubav

Ne-ljubav, dušo, dušo, ne-ljubav
je ono što mi ne izlazi iz glave.
sklepano, šećeru, medeni, sklepan,
je reč koja te opisuje.

Uprkos muralima naslikanim
na unutrašnjim zidovima tvoga srca,
ti ne vidiš baš daleko.

Uprkos ljubavi u porama
i zvezdama duboko u pramenju kose,
ti samo podižeš kriterijume.

I onda, zašto ti dati ljubav,
kad ne želiš ljubav,
kad prevrćeš tanjir,
kad zamandališ kapiju?

Zašto ti dati ljubav
kad ti
filtriraš ljubav,
brendiraš ljubav,
oblačiš ljubav,
gledaš kako ona hoda,
gledaš kako ona priča?

Zašto ti dati ljubav
kad ona ne može biti
nacrtana,
napisana,
konstruisana;
kad može samo biti
bačena na gomilu,
oslikana prstima
i nalupetana?

Nestalo mi je,
nestalo mi je,
nestalo mi je...

...i ljubavi i ne-ljubavi.

______________________________________

No-Love

No-love, baby, baby, no-love
Is what's here with me now.
Know-how, sugar, honey, know-how
Is what you are to me now.

Despite those murals painted
On the inside walls of your heart,
You don't see really far.

For someone with love in pores
And stars in depths of your locks,
You keep on raising the bar.

So, why give you love,
When you don't want love,
When you flip over the plate,
When you chain up the gate?

Why give you love,
When you
Filter love,
Brand love,
Dress-up love,
Look at how it walks,
Look at how it talks?

Why give you love,
When it can't be
Drawn,
written,
Constructed;
When it can only be
Thrown on a pile,
Finger-painted,
Babbled out?

I'm out,
I'm out,
I'm out...

...of love and no-love.

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