After Midnight Thoughts

I
Am I nocturnal or I just slept too much in the afternoon?
I know you don’t know
You don’t even have any idea who Pelle Carlberg is
He’s a genius

II
Pelle Carlberg is a genius
He sings a song about a beloved imbecile girl
But (…)* is a prodigy
So don’t masturbate with his pic

III
Monks don’t masturbate, do they?
I recommend them Sigur Rós
For ear orgasm, and melted heart
But never half tired brain; tired or not at all

IV
Eventhough my brain is masochist
It’s still malfunctioned after midnight
I wonder if so is everyone’s
So was maybe Cinderella’s

V
Maybe Cinderella was brain malfunctioned after twelve
That’s why she had been told to come home before that
She left the glass slipper, didn’t she?
And if she were there any longer… I begin to wonder

VI
Cinderella would start screaming on the top of her lungs
About how much she fell for that skinny prince
How many pages in her diary she drew about how bad she wanted him
Then maybe she would start lighting a cigarette

VII
Cinderella was not a bad girl, but I am better
She went to dance party and I am studying
She cried and I am meeting her inside my brain
With melted ear, tired heart, and brain orgasm; I go to sleep

*) Well, it’s a name. Of my friends. Who rocks. He does. Hoho.

Written in March 23rd, 2008.
Cinderella lighting a cigarette? A really awesome idea from malfunctioned brain. Hff..

untitled

PROLOGUE
If I like you this much
Will you just leave and hide
To your world
With a pack of cigarettes?

~

She’s lost just now
He’s not on the map
Maybe too far, maybe too deep
She doesn’t drive or dive

Maybe too high, maybe too good
She can’t fly or dance
She’s lost just now
In her imagination

She imaginates he imaginates
She draws and reads
He smokes and sleeps
He draws and reads

She’s sleepless
So he is
They aren’t meant to be
Maybe they are

They do same things
They live in different worlds
Maybe not that far
But who knows?

~

EPILOGUE
If I like you this much
And you know that
Will you meet me
In our imagination?

Written on March 23rd, 2008.
Wonder if you know…
Don’t you know nothing, do you?  

White Dress is Just a Symbol

White dress is just a symbol
And we all love symbols
That we symbolize everything

Red polished nails for sensuality
A for ‘excellence’
Heart shape for love

We are so busy symbolizing
That we often forget
The meaning, or more, the reason

We draw heart shape
Between our names
Then we’re busy again thinking

White dress is just a symbol
Of anything we want
Then we’re busy again, wanting

Written on January 26th, 2008.

Save the Last Page for Me

I want to draw the sky
On your heart
I want to color it blue
And smile like the morning

I will add a rabbit
And a balloon
And color it white
And red

You want to draw
Yourself
And I don’t wonder
Why I like you

I will draw another rabbit
Better than to be alone
At least a destination
Words of “happily ever after”

So save the last page for me

Written on January 15th, 2008.
I  should’ve known I’d fall for you this much.

Rufus Might Have Tried

The books are wide opened
But the pages are empty
Or too full
That they are black

And you seem so perfect
Because I only see you from the north
When compass doesn’t work
That you are made of steel

And I hate myself when I’m alone
Because I will go too far
And out of my mind
To cross the borderline of hell

I’m a tresspasser
with grey converse and green tee
I wanna jump to through to you
Like Jimmy Hopkins to the assylum

Rufus might have tried
To sleep with eyes open
But it’s too cool that he & I can’t
So we srite a song

But the pages are empty
Or too full
That they are black

The books are wide opened

Written on November 14th, 2007 at 01:31.

Or It’s Just The Rest of The World

Pink cardigan doesn’t remind me of you
Nor the cigarettes
It’s the elevator
Or it’s just the rest of the world

When writing I wish
Someone would turn it
Into song
That leads you home

When walking alone I wonder
You would drive by
And you wouldn’t see my tears
Because I’d be looking at the ground

TV doesn’t remind me of you
Nor the story
It’s the street
Or it’s just the rest of the world

Hahah. Pink cardigan.
Written somewhen in 2007. Forgot to date it.