danotišlihnestalih / thedayofgonedisappeared

! 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.

danotišlihnestalih

Bila sam tu kad je pukao peščani sat,
mogla sam da osetim kako se šavovi cepaju,
nije da su se prvi put pocepali,
samo su se pocepali na drugi način,
zbog drugih stvari.
Istorija pred jatom svitastih očiju.

I evo ih opet
i nude neke bube.
Ne trebaju meni vaše bube!
Neću ja nikakve bube!

Radije bih da nemam zlato,
nego da imam srebro.
Možda je to i bronza.
Ha?

Razumite me.
Molim vas, razumite me.
Ako hoćete kuče, nabavite kuče.

Glupanderi idu za bleštavim svetlima.
I ja sam nekad, ali samo jednom se ljubi.
Kad ponovo poljubiš, princ je opet žabac.
No, tad je sve to bilo lepše.
Čistije.
Iskrenije.
Mi smo još uvek bila u kavezu,
i nadala sam se da će doći dan
kad ćemo i mi moći da se zabavljamo
koliko god želimo,
sa svima drugima,
izvan kaveza.

I došao je taj dan.
Bila je subota, devetnaesti,
a dva dana pre toga,
saznala sam da mi to ne znači
ama baš ništa.
Zamisli!

Ovo više nije važno.
Meni, ne.

Izem ti muvoserinu.
Izem ti pogrešno vreme.
Izem ti takvo odrastanje.
Mrzim devedesete.
Mrzim Evropu.
Mrzim nas.

Mrzuckam malo i tebe,
subotom, nedeljom,
u onim danima
i drugim danom državnih praznika.

Šta je bilo ovo?

____________________________________

thedayofthegonedisappeared

I was there when the hourglass broke,
I could feel the stiches tearing apart,
It's not like it broke for the first time,
It just broke in a different way,
For different reasons.
History before a flock of firefly eyes.

Now they came around
And they offer some beetles.
I don't need your beetles!
I don't want no beetles!

I'd rather not have the gold,
Than have the silver.
Or maybe it's bronze.
Huh?

Understand me.
Please, understand me.
If you want a dog, get a dog.

Stupid idiots go for bright lights,
I used to do so too, but you kiss only once,
The second time around, prince's a frog again.
But back then it was all more beautiful.
More pure.
More sincere.
We were still in a cage
And I was hoping the day would come
When we can have fun too,
As much as we want,
With everyone else,
Outside the cage.

And the day came,
It was the Saturday, 19th,
And two days before that,
I found out that it won't
Matter to me at all.
Imagine that!

This no longer matters,
Not to me.

Screw the flypoop.
Screw the wrong time.
Screw such growing up.
I hate the 90s.
I hate Europe.
I hate us.

I hate-ish you a bit, too,
On Saturdays, Sundays,
In "those" days,
And on the second day of any national holiday.

What was this?

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