builds a gilded cage.
he's crazy in love with a stranger -
this is a fancy in a mirror.
he adores her, she's a bird in a cage.
а ведь будет у тебя пара-тройка таких неземных любовей, что зашибись, никто не уйдет живым.
(с)
...
i have been always thinking since the beginning of times,
i am not actually someone to be deciding the fate of this world.
i have been always intentionally? avoiding the responsibility.
a little princess, preferably never a queen. preferably far away from the high politics ever.
letter N.678.
i have never been thinking that my unability to love righteously will cause the thing.
wait, probably we are speaking here of one and forever eternal love story now, eh?
as someone used to say, a great love story is always to be a lot of a tragedy, it is
surely full of drama, deception, jealousy, death and introverted reflections. of course.
but if i were to write the one and only love story for this mankind, it surely would've been mine.
a love of a child, a love of princess, a love of a queen. sharped, distorted, morbid, shattered.
beautiful, guilted, enormously unbelievably high in its deepest urge and innerside battleship.
when i was a child, i often was thinking about the fact how it would be truly truly wonderful.
someone, going to fence (going from fencing not fancy) for me, sacrifice for me, love me.
if you knew me, i would have probably told you thousand times (once for a lifetime?)
to love me only is a greatest sin, heavy enough to bring down all the Eden from heaven.
because my love is either clumsy or very much intrigue indeed. but i am so very much
getting confident of the point, that there is a stage, where falling in love with a
himself, going to the highest grades to be told that he actually came to love you as well
(right it down somewhere for the record, honestly.) me ending up going away in the shadows
to be actually killing myself as the best solution of the problem ever. why it cant be anyway.
the triangle ceases to be as one of the sides finally retrieves. why should not it be me, then?
of all the problems possible to exist in this world, the problem of my heart is the only unsolvable.
unsaveble, as i should put it maybe. those are fighting for me to death as i am fighting with me.
and being honest, not doing any success here.
and if i were asked again, what is it you want, princess?
the sky is yours, the devil is yours, the world is yours.
are you need something special to be coming back?..
everyone is calling up to you where you keep shelling yourself in your own hell.
angels love you, demons love you. the crowns are just keep lining up - choose!
nope, nope. i would either explode this universe out of my bewilded heart. wounded.
wounded by who? to be asking, inspite of a general talks, wounded by myself only.
i never denied the fact that the one actually caused the chaos was myself in the first place.
and seems like i need no one else to be drifting myself into self-destruction point of all,
where i need nothing, where i do not need love, crowns, confessions or money as that is.
no, it is not actually the writing about possible legends. its about me, being stupid.
cold enough to deny everything just to be able to retrieve in my own castle and die.
proudly as only as fool as i am could be.
i mean, i never denied the personal line of pride - stubborness - stupidity.
if you say, my ability to hurt you is a topic for legends, you should maybe know.
that somewhere inside of my heart i love you, desire you, hate myself for the fact
that i keep on striking a knife through your heart every second with a disobedience.
that is why ceasing is desirable. i forgot how to beg for forgiveness, i forgot how to
beg for my wings, hidden. i forgot how it is probably to love you in the very end.
no matter how many times i tell you - do not wait for me, i am a lost cause.
you keep on waiting, saying that you love me, save me, hide me, warm me.
that is probably the best of my guilt, king. to hear it inside and bear with it.
because i know, i am not worthy of both of your love. to think deeply within.
probably it is somehow tending to end up as a tragedy in the very end.
striking through my own heart with they deadly words somehow about -
sorry, i loved you both, but could not choose so actually broke the world.
be a subject to a legendary jokes as for - *dear little fool, they loved you both.
could not you actually got that simple fact in the very very end? poor you!*
aw wait, count the percentage for happy ending, it is abnormously small ne?
i mean, i can write about this all as a beautiful dream, but i cant say it loud.
for all the times, obviously. tell me i could still dare to be at your side, tell me..
reincarnation boundaries took you soon, love.
do you know what your first name actually was?