Страница Alex Фартового

BLACK HAIR DYE: because blonds don’t really have more fun (not at the Get up Kids show, anyway). Wear a thick headband. BACKPACK: because how else are you gonna carry 7-inch vinyl??? STRIPED SHIRT: Ripped off your little brother’s back. STUDDED BELT AND BRACELETS: Show your punk roots tough: After all you are a sensitive soul. So wear a lot of pretty bracelets to express your soft, girlie side. DISCMAN: Load with seminal EMO cds from: Hot Water Music, Rival Schools and Sunny Day Real Estate. DARK DENIM JEANS: Roll them up once - never twice. CLUNKY SHOES: Shiny and black.Comfy while standing for hours at shows. FUN SOCKS: Argyles!Stripes!Stars!Whichever pattern your pick, make sure you show them off. GEEKY GLASSES: Whith thick frames, of course.Think Weezer’s Rivers Cuomo, or your science theacher. VINTAGE T-SHIRTS: The one with fun, ironic slogans from where tou were a kid.Cheap and fun to shop for at thrift stores. TOO SMALL SWEATERS: To help you get that slouchy, dissaffected look.Extra points if you find one of the Grandpa’s closet. KEY CHAIN: Wear it in janitor-style.If you add the wallet, you might accidentally be mistaken for a nu-metal frat rocker. DEEP READS: A used copy of J.D. Salinger’s Franny and Zooey,rock critic Greil Marcus’ Ranters and Crowd Pleasers, and a notebook to express your innermost thoughts. SNEAKERS: Ratty old converse or vans.Avoid anything too obviously shiny or new - or risk looking like a jock!

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Moss Icon Native Nod Policy of Three Maximillian Colby Still Life Current Portaits of Past Hoover Navio Forge Ordination Of Aaron Elements Of Need Plunger Indian summer Cerberus Shoal Knotwork Jara Four Hundred Years Julia The Party Of Helicopters Post-Emo indie rock («midwest emo») Sunny Day Real Estate Christie Front Drive Mineral Cap’n Jazz Promise Ring Pop Unknown Christie Front Drive Elliott Boys life Time In Malta ska maio My Chemical Romance fall out boy

Эта жизнь как две полосы,
Но обе они черней сажи.
На мир ты по чётче взгляни,
Увидишь какая все лажа.
Получше вглядись в город свой-
Шприцы и осколки бутылок,
Здесь курит уж каждый второй,
Не воздухом дышим, а дымом
Уже задыхаюся я,
И сердце так медленно бьётся.
Гниём потихоньку мы все
И скоро совсем уж загнёмся.
А кто-то все будет смотреть
На слёзы, на горечь страданий…
Но не остановит никто
Людей грустное увяданье…

Играешь, задевая мои струны,
Поёшь всегда, не открывая рта
И каждый звук храню как руны
Добытые в бою, поднятые со дна.

Я не пишу сейчас: “Люблю”…
Не вижу смысла в буквах.
Я просто каждую строфу
Несмело заполняю смыслом.

Играй! Помучай меня боем.
Опомнившись, чуть отпусти,
Задев печальным мягким перебором,
Заведомо произнеся: “прости”…

Сидит девчонка похожа на куклу, из под челки кидая печальный свой взгляд. Прическа, значки и черная сумка, и яркий красивый наряд.
Сидит в одиночестве слезы пуская, в руке сигарета дымит. Сидит она тихо друзей ожидая, а сердце всё чаще стучит.
Заметив их сразу же слезы стирает, с улыбкой им скажет-привет! И где то в душе она всё понимает, что друзей у нее больше нет!
И весь вечер она будет с ними общаться, улыбаться, смеяться в ответ. А они за спиной говорить будут-стерва! Что таких больше в городе нет.
Почему же они её так ненавидят? Почему её куклой зовут? Потому что для них она просто игрушка, и игры от нее они ждут.
Почему все считают что раз она кукла она не умеет любить? Ведь она полюбила, но безответно, и не может его позабыть…