Mescaline's Blog

I am

mescaline — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 01:02:15 +0000

Years gone by,

I still can’t fly.

High school waves ‘bye-bye’,

Years gone by.

Having fun as I know,

born to walk alone,

to the path I own,

having fun as I know.

Missunderstood and reckless,

following my dreams

and living in sins,

missunderstood and reckless.

Original by birth,

free my mind,

used to be one of a kind,

original by birth.

Being me means being happy,

means love and sweetness,

freedom, rebelion, goodness,

being me means being happy.

I am the sound of life,

of nature, mountains,

rivers and seas,

I am the sound of life.

The one that picked the freedom,

the simplicity and the beauty,

the inner peace and the man’s duty,

the one that picked the freedom.

The star that twinkles,

when you hear the sound within,

when you don’t smile to her thin,

the star that twinkles.

The one that was born again and again,

and still has a strong will

to dance and twirl,

the one that was born again and again.

The one that cryes

when there appears to be no hope in their eyes,

when hears satanic lullabies,

the one that cryes.

The always changing twins,

angelic and demonic,

frantic, extatic and sardonic,

the always changing twins.

Dancing with the night,

going on with the fight,

happy being right,

dancing with the night.

Live more

mescaline — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 00:11:00 +0000

Smoke a cigarette and wipe your fears away, it’s a brand new day. Close your eyes and draw your favourite smile, let your sorrow die.

Love the life you have, or try to create a new one, that fits you and make you happy with the things you choose. Appreciate small things more, the simpler ones. Live the moment, because the day that comes is not the same.

Embrace the night, go with the light, take a long bath in delight. You’re the sunlight, you’re the twilight. Love the people that come around, learn to be unbound. Smile more often, enjoy everything, the things won’t come as you were expecting.

Learn more, love more, live more.

24.01.’11

mescaline — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 21:48:16 +0000

Sweet memories, dark and secret stories
which have never been told,
are still keeping me in hold.
Am I too young or am I too old
to know that much bunch of shit ?
I don’t know.
I think and I know
that I won’t respect my vow.

-What do you see in my eyes ?

-Everything is just lust and lies, mud and butterflies. Smokey eyes, regrets and forgotten goodbyes.
-Oh, my, what do you think about my eyes ?
- There’re just lost lullabies..

09.02.’11

mescaline — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 21:46:44 +0000

Şoarecele odihneşte acum pe pieptu-mi fierbinte. stăm amândoi cufundaţi în tenebrul surd al dulcii nopţi. Doi şoareci: unul de singurătate şi unul de biţi. Flash-urile nu-mi dau pace de câteva luni încoace. Nu mă deranjează deosebit de mult, îmi fac doar viaţa puţin mai picantă şi mă fac să mă-ntreb adesea dacă sunt în pragul nebuniei sau nu. oricum..

şi acum vă vom prezenta o scena cu totul şi cu totul deosebită ! O senzaţie malnutrită ce-mbrobodeşte-o persoan-obidită.

- Înainte, marş !

Ascultam cu urechea lipită de pământul greu şi umed tropotele celor ce veneau. Un zgomot surd, ataraxic, nicidecum pentru ceilalţi. Eu îmi aşteptam calm sfarşrea. Şi cântam, si cântam cât de tare puteam. Aveam o voce duioasă; în pofida viciilor mele, vocea mi se păstrase sănatoasă; nu ca acum, groasă.

Am învăţat de mic să nu spun ce-am pe suflet, să nu spun ce-mi macină măruntaiele şi-mi fierbe creierii, şi nu spuneam. îmi făceam griji că ceilalţi se vor îngrijora pentru mine şi nu doream deloc acest lucru, uram să stârnesc mila. Nici măcar să fiu iubit nu-mi placea. Mângâierile-mi displaceau. Nu spuneam ce-mi trecea prin gând decât arareori şi atunci sfârşeam prin a-mi face şi mai mult rău, deoarece ceilalţi se arătau intrigaţi si dezgustaţi, chiar, de ideile mele. Ce pot să spun.. Am fost o persoană destul de dură cu mine însumi, dar şi cu ceilalţi. Chiar şi acum, când boala mă mănâncă de viu prefer să tac, să zbier ermetic în mine, chiar dacă ştiu că, făcând asta, organele-mi pot suferi groaznic.

pierd nopţile, preferând s-ascult liniştea nopţii, să văd stafiile, să fiu doar eu. poţi atinge exaltarea doar ajungându-te să te cunoşti foarte bine. chiar dacă ştii că eşti o persoană acerbă, abjectă sau orişicum. eu nu-s nicicum, eu sunt eu.

Say whaat ?

mescaline — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 21:40:38 +0000

04.07.’11

I’ve been playin’, I’ve been sayin’ lots of shits, I’ve been givin’ ya’ll lots of treats, I’ve been foolin’ myself for weeks, I’ve been pushin’ myself for the weaks, I’ve been lazy, I’ve been down, I’ve been crazy, I’ve been wasted in other towns, I’ve been wearin’ others crown, I’ve been sorry for what I’m wrong, I’ve been wonderin’ where I belong, I’ve been strong, I’ve been way too drunk to fuck, I’ve been begin’, I’ve been cheatin’, I’ve been swearin’, I’ve been daring’, I’ve been beating yo’ ass, I’ve been trowin’ up, I’ve been jerkin’ off, I’ve been visiting jail, I’ve been lost on a trail, I’ve been shocked about a received mail, I’ve been doin’ illegal stuff, I’ve been lickin’ some muffs, I’ve been tryin’ some pills, I’ve been feelin’ some weird thrills, I’ve been takin’ some pills, I’ve been listenin’ idiots, I’ve been depressed, I’ve been stressed, I’ve been feckless, I’ve been a mess. And I still am.

Sea dust, like.

mescaline — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 21:17:23 +0000

I miss childhood. Lazy times, no worries, bedtime stories.
Is it yes or it’s no,
should I stay or should I go,
should I walk or should I run,
is it boredom or it’s fun ?

I despite your hypocrisy.
I’m isolating from all of you
in a temporary amnesia,
glowing in the anarchy.

I cannot stick w/ nothing, nor someone,
I miss the things that I’ve dreamed of,
I have now only memories that I’m ashamed of.

It would be an idea to start over again.
Back to zero, like.
‘Cause I’m out of my mind,
stopped, in a way, to be kind,
I’m turnin’ into grind.
Sea dust, like.

For you, to know 2

mescaline — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 21:09:03 +0000

28.02.’11

Someone light my path !
What I have done ?!
I’ve been hurting you,
and myself, to the bone.
I’m sorry, you’re sorry.
Tears of regret are falling,
empty thoughts are running
far, far away from me,
the selfish, cold blooded ,bitch,
the unpleasant itch.
Being suck a child sometimes,
leads you to make
so many failed tries,
in order to make myself
to open my eyes.
But.. time flies,
and I won’t be there to listen my lies.
You’re about to lose me.
Should I switch it on or off,
Should I drown you in a bluff ?
Should I choose the green or the brown,
the hidden one or the shown ?
I’m in a state of confusing,
which’s keeping me abusing
the sentiment.
I’m still watching you, secretly,
while the dusty tears are falling, slowly.

gOl

mescaline — Thu, 08 Sep 2011 04:02:28 +0000

Mă simt gol, mă simt pierdut..

Am pierdut şi tot ce aveam şi ce iubeam mai mult: zâmbetu-mi..

Aş vrea să mă-ntind în pat şi să uit de toţi şi de toate, cum le-am avut şi le-am pierdut, pe toate. dar nu se poate. Notele triste ale pianului mă induc într-o stare de nefericire profundă. Tristeţea, oare de ce n-o alungă ? Sunt înveninat, dar de ce nu m-omoară ? Trăiesc c-un suflet pătat de amintiri, suferinţe vechi, actuale şi pustii. Iubiri ce-au fost şi n-or mai fi. Inconjurat mereu de-o prostie crasă.. Nu mă mai minunez, doar mă gândesc când se face ceasul să mă duc acasă.. E greu, tare greu.

Ne schimbăm cu toţii de-a lungul timpului, dar nu-n aceleaşi condiţii şi nu-n aceeaşi măsură.Viaţa, în sine, e o lecţie dură.

Când viaţa ţi-e grea, nu prea poţi evada nici în vise. Amare şi chinuitoare ele sunt, şi uite aşa te trezeşti cărunt..

Beau, să pot uita de dulcele amar din viaţa mea..

Tu ştii cum e să-ţi fie dor de vechiul tu ? Să ai un secret urât şi-ntunecat ? Să vrei să te fi-necat mai bine decât să dai ochii cu cel ce te-a-nvăţat ce-i bine şi ce-i rău ? Să nu mai poţi iubi, deoarece te simti gol şi inuman ?..Monstru.

I met

mescaline — Thu, 16 Jun 2011 11:05:10 +0000

I met a boy, years ago, that was too ashammed to ask me for the first kiss. Well, his lips tasted like piss.
I met Alex, fucked up soul, which gave me what I asked for. I screamed on the floor.
I met Radu, weird creep, that can’t fuck anyone.. so deep.
I met an older one, Andrei. His dick was so short that he could’t afford to do any kind of outdoor sport.
I met I., whick was sick of his girlfriend, and I wasn’t the one who liked to ..bend.
I met a 14 y.o. boy, when I was 18, and I told him that I like to fuck teens, hardcore, not how he sees on tv screens.
I met a jealous one, with whom I had some fun, till he was gone.
I met Dani, he was 20 and weird. We fucked even in the cemetery, and he got a lil’ scary.
I met a sick fuck, who intended to sell me on the black market. But he couldn’t, so fuck it.
I met a man, whose name I can’t recall. I wanted a ride, but he ~~raped~~ me twice, w/ pride. And wild.
I met some men, whose dicks were thick like a stick.
I met another 20+ y.o. . Big dick that fucks you till you get sick.
I met someone that liked to watch me how I jerk off.
I met a man who cheated his wife, in his house, till we broke the fuckin’ bed.
I met Bilă, my ex. Well, he knows what a woman wants and he fucks like hell.
I met a loser, a drug abuser, who thought he was fuckin’ me in a Land Cruser.
I met another pedo, but the fucking was so boring, that I think at some point I was snoring.
I met a 17 y.o. faker, trouble maker, but his bone is a real shaker.
I fell in love w/ a 16 y.o., in October ’09. He wasn’t so sober, he told me just his truman, so I was his 1st woman.
I met C., a 15 y.o., who fell for me. He cryied and.. cryied, but my feelings weren’t much alike. I distroied him, because I climbed on his best friend’s pike.
I met a boozer, who told everyone that he loves his girlfriend. Well, he’s kinda in a dead end.
I met a cool herbalist, who was writing down girl names on a list. The things got a dirty twist, and now the memories are let to be contemplated in the mist.
I met Andi, an alpinist, who wanted to bone me. But I made him see that I am chosing thee.
I met a hunched dickhead, who was repeating, in the Christmas, O-ho-ho, but he just wanted a nasty blow. I said ‘helooo, just go’.

Beggining

mescaline — Thu, 16 Jun 2011 10:58:56 +0000

So I should cut my wings to stop myself from flying away from these things that I can’t say, from these things that I must obey ?

I’m a butterfly.

I die each day

When I try to call “Mayday”.

No one else’s hearin’, or I’m talking too loud ?

I’m always stuck on a cloud.

Emprisioned out there, I can’t enjoy my freedom,

so I’m readin’ books of wisdom.

I find answers, but I can’t relay

on something that I must obey.

A new begginin’, a new life, an ignorant butterfly- the same end.