It is later than late, the simmered down darkness of the jukebox hour.

The hour of drunkenness and cigarettes. The fools hour.

In my dreams, I still smoke, cigarette after cigarette. It's okay, I'm dreaming.

In dreams, smoking can't kill me. It's warm outside. I have every window open.

There's no such thing as danger, only the dangerous face of beauty.

I'm hanging at my window like a houseplant. I'm smoking a cigarette. I'm having a drink. The pale, blue moon is shining. The savage stars appear. Every fool that passes by smiles up at me. I drip ashes on them.

There is music playing from somewhere. A thready, salt-sweet tune I don't know any of the words to. There's a gentle breeze making hopscotch with my hair.

This is the wet blanket air of midnight. This is the incremental hour. This is the plastic placemat of time between reality and make-believe. This is tabletop dream time. This is that faint stain on your mattress, the one you'll discover come morning, and wonder how. This is the monumental moment.

The essential: look at me now. This is the hour. Isn't it lovely? Wake up the stars! Isn't it fabulous? Kiss the moon!

Where is the clock? The one that always runs ahead. The one that always tries to crush me with its future.

Sometimes we don't feel, like we want to feel. Sometimes we don't achieve, what we want to achieve. Sometimes things that happen, don't make sense. Sometimes life leads us in directions that are beyond our control..

It's at these times, most of all, that we need someone who'll quietly understand us and be there to support us.

I want you to know that i'm here for you in every way and remember that though things may be difficult now, but tomorrow is a new day..

never good enough

I need a cigarette, this one is dedicated to you..

This one’s especially for you, because you hated when i smoked.

You said 'Don’t waste your pretty face'

You said 'Don’t waste your pretty hands '

You told me not to waste myself.. Know what?

Now i’m completely wasted. The sweet little girl you once liked is wasted. The sweet little girl you loved, once tasted. Too much life and too much pain.. and guess what?

It’s all your fault!

So this cigarette is for you..

And when i blow the smoke at your face, i want you to know that - this sweet little girl you once liked is dead and it’s all your fault..

Ouch! This can't be good.

Igal hingel on keegi, keda oodata. Oodata nii, et hing on valus. Ootamine, mis näib mõttetu, kuid võime otsida, palju tahes ei leia me sellele vastust, miks me ikka ootame..

Igal hingel on süda, mis kannatab. Kannatab kellegi pärast, sest ta teab et poleks mõtet, valada pisaraid, sest need ei jõuaks sinuni, et sa teaksid kuidas ta kannatab..

Igal hingel on võimalusi, nautida elu ja unustada minevik. Ta pole ainus, kes väärib sind, ise lootes et andestad talle kunagi..

Igal hingel on olemas keegi, kes salaja armastab ja sind oma mõtetes kaasas kannab, kuigi talle näib see võimatu, et võiksid armastada teda. Kuid sa ei tea, kui ei proovi...

Sest igal hingel on olemas keegi.. Keegi kes armastab sind, kuigi sina seda ei näe..

white chocolate and fresh roses

Ta on siin, aga keegi teda ei märka. Keegi ei näe, tema pisikesi pruune silmi, mis on täis nukrust..

Nad keegi ei näe, et tema kaunid silmad on täis pisaraid. Aga ometi, ta on ju siin!

Ta seisab siin, aga keegi ei tunne teda. Ta on nii üksi.

Ta räägib siin, aga mitte keegi ei kuule teda, mitte keegi.

Keegi ei kuule tema vaikset õrna häält. Nad ei tahagi kuulda. Ta sureb tasa, kuid keegi ei märkagi seda. Keegi ei märka tema väikest keha maas lamamas.

Nad ei märka, et ta tahis vaid olla..

Can't handle it

Ma ei suuda, või ma ei tahagi suuta? Ei. Selles pole küsimus.
Ma olen lihtsalt kõigest ülimalt tüdinud. Kool on kestnud vaevalt üle kuu ja ma lihtsalt ei pea enam vastu. See pinge on tohutu, võibolla ma olen lihtsalt välja puhkamata.
Tunded on segased, aga vahepeal tunnen ma end paremini, kui kunagi varem. Kõik kõigub.
Vahepeal on kõik jube hästi ja järgmine hetk jälle hullult masendav.
Ümber on kõik rahutu, ei tea, mida tahta või mitte tahta.

Igaljuhul, kui keegi minusse mingisugustki positiivsust süstida tahaks, andku teada!

Ikkagi hommikul ärgates,
seda kiirgavat päikest märgates

naerule kisub mu suu