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Od srca zelim sto brze ozdravljenje.........da svi ovi sivi listici oko nje - opet ozelene......

Virginia Woolf: Someone has to die in order that the rest of us should value life more. It's contrast.

m 2 z : you are wrong. i value life regardless. i value life with you in it. pain is not a reminder of beauty it is a nuisance. laughter and love are life.

Angelica Bell: What happens when we die?
Virginia Woolf: What happens?
[pause]
Virginia Woolf: We return to the place we came from.
Angelica Bell: I don't remember where I came from.
Virginia Woolf: Nor do I.


m 2 z : saznanje me neche mimoichi, nema potrebe da mu hitam u susret.


Virginia Woolf: Did it matter, then, she asked herself, walking toward Bond Street. Did it matter that she must inevitably cease, completely. All this must go on without her. Did she resent it? Or did it not become consoling to believe that death ended absolutely? It is possible to die. It is possible to die.

m 2 z:

so...
Virginia Woolf: It's on this day. This day of all days. Her fate becomes clear to her.

Lepa u bolu i snu, nije se budila dok sam recitovao nasu pesmu, ali mislim da me je cula... ili sam ja to zeleo. Izasao sa nitroglicerinom pod jezikom, posle se dugo dugo vozio, samo ne secam se vise gde... Malocas dobih poruku da je juce osvanuo lep i suncan dan. Nisam primetio...

divna....prelepa....meka i nezzna kao beba.... prede kad je milujem, drhti kad plachem i grchim se bezuspeshno i nepotrebno pokushavajuchi da suzbijem cunami koji je izazvala....

We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep. It's as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out windows, or drown themselves, or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us are slowly devoured by some disease, or, if we're very fortunate, by time itself. There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds & expectations, to burst open & give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) know these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning, we hope, more than anything for more. Heaven only knows why we love it so...

virginia woolf

Suzana 20.3.2007. 13:29:15
...Bude mi malo bolje pa se premesti na drugo mesto. Nervira me što ne mogu ni da čitam ni filmove da gledam, ja koja bih ne znam šta za filmove dala. Je l` prokletstvo reagovati hipersenzibilno na svaki talasić? I čuvati se za ljubav i mrzeti eksperimente? Pa šta ako dugo nisam? Mogla sam a nisam htela s nekim ko nije bio onaj koga ja hoću. I sad ga gledam ovde i mislim kako nema veze sa zasluživanjem. Holandija je bila moj jedini saživot, jedino što ljbav i sex jesu. Volim te...

She did it...
She tuch the sky, in her own way...


...love...

``Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.``