Free Sheet Music For Biffy Clyro

SILHOUETTES (Part II)

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from the sea tide has started a new story, the sun and moon, the silhouettes of two mixed morning to night, and have turned what is happening in the spaceless timeless 'a deux' ... That day afternoon silhouette of the sun at the airport of Milan had hidden Rays lashes right in the arrival hall, so when I went in his lunar eclipse skvozyasche sleepy, I did not found his presence very close to yellow, after the column .. Meeting place of the sun and moon - the airport .. Naturally and astro-logically true. And if we expand further and the 'Aero-PORT', then, in my opinion, is obtained Synergy blue air (air) and sea (port - vacuum vessels). So, in the blue elements Milan match two yellow silhouette, sun and moon, the warm mixed with cold; morning faced with the night, time started, and fell into the sea, once ducked flying past the person, luggage, taxi drivers, trees and birds. There were some words with each another, the meaning is not caught, all absorbed by the notes voting, new and familiar to the heart, from dreams, or letters that I receive daily, and from which emerged meeting.

picture of a car window, hurrying to the smell of the sea,
- dashes blue thick downpour,
him pastel beautiful terracotta roofs,
of Nowhere body signs,
the third, farthest plan - an abstraction of plasticine
- purple shapes of the mountains. Evanescence
plate inside the machine,
accompanies his fingers on the steering wheel.
Two silhouette flying in the rain to the dream.
three days to touch
skin and know that only a guess is possible through the letters ..
Particular note is the letter,
are more difficult to feel in the square -
we speak and write the language - the mediator,
in a second, not to breathe.
English universe -
double distortion of love: first thoughts, letters, and then translate them.
What happens in the end?
acquires the ability to hear the exclusive value.
funny way thorny, alphanumeric remote I come to the banal thoughts,
hear that - it is important in this life.
only 170 kilometers from the rain,
and we sit and hear the noise of low tide.
hotel balcony and view of the evening in the sea.
silently when so close.
In the distance we spend pounds
words in letters every night.
I think the time has come to sound silhouette,
now silent movie of this meeting will be inside of me.
voice silhouette ...
sitting side by side on the floor in a blouse gray and blue jeans,
focused on something too much,
in total timid look in the eye,
vaguely considering cloud.
voice the man who turned out
letter silhouette in a live, flesh-colored,
of the color of the letters - the color of sunlight.
utterly serious - it's not enough,
so that describe the severity of the aspirations of the sun.
Favorite City - Stockholm, fundamental. All checks
time,
hours, without exception, always on the left.
pajamas in the trunk carries,
Player DVD, adapter,
guides, at least two instances of two different authors
for objective events,
a purse pockets are not used for money,
antiquarian bookstore in the first place in terms of visits,
yes, the plans - one more detail, vital
- immaculately detailed,
up addresses and points, marked in pencil on the map.
But the most serious of the external manifestations,
course, the look and beauty of body movement ...

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Об этом завтра.

The Silhouettes (part II)

A new story of the Sun and the Moon, of the two silhouettes which mixed the Morning and the Night and have turned what is happening between them into the spaceless eternity ‘a deux’, began from the sea outlow ... On that day, the afternoon silhouette of the Sun was hiding the rays of its eyelashes at Milan airport, somewhere on the right side of the arrival exit, so that when I went out being as usual at this time of the day in my lunar half-awaken eclipse condition, I did not notice at once its yellow presence. The Sun was standing very closely to me, behind the columns .. A meeting point of the Sun and the Moon - the airport. .. Doesn’t it sound organic and astro-logically true? And if to expand this wordplay further, ‘AIRPORT’ turns into the blue synergy of the Air (air) and the Sea (port - vacuum of ships). That is how the two yellow silhouettes, the Sun and the Moon, coincided in the blue-marine Milan’s Element. The warm blended with the cold; the morning faced the night; the time winced and sank into the sea; the passing by faces, luggage, taxi drivers, trees and birds were swept off at once. There were some words when we met, but the meaning wasn’t caught at that moment, they were absorbed by the nocturne of the voice, a new voice to me and at the same time to the heart familiar, the voice from my dreams or from the letters that I had been receiving daily. Those letters had become the turning point, the reason for this vis-à-vis rendezvous to happen.

The picture from the outside of the car that is hurrying forward to the smell of the sea:
light blue strokes of thick downpour;
beautiful pastel terracotta roofs behind the rainfall;
the bodies of road signs out of nowhere;
the third layer of the scene, which is in the most distant background,
is the abstraction made of plasticine – the lilac mountain figures.
The CD of Evanescence is playing inside the car
accompanying synchronically the fingers on the steering wheel.
The t wo silhouettes are flying through the rain-wall to the dream.
Three days to touch and to learn with skin something that is not possible to feel via letters…
It’s important to emphasize our letter language that, in our case, makes it twice difficult to feel what we are trying to describe via mails –
The Sun and the Moon speak and write on the language that is the mediator,
which is not native for both of us,
which of course we do not think with.
The Universal Bond – English.
Double distortion of love:
first is thoughts expressed in letters,
then is the translation.
What do we get as a result?
The ability to hear acquires an exceptional value.
It's funny that only by this thorny, letter-distant way
I come to the banal idea that to hear is  a core of life.
170 miles of  rain and we are sitting listening to the whisper of the outflow.
The hotel, the balcony and an evening eye at the sea.
We are silent when we are so close now.
Being at a distance we spend pounds of words in our every-evening letters. 
 think the time has come to mouth the silhouette…
From now and onwards the silent movie of our meeting will remain inside of me.
To mouth the SUNny silhouette…

the silhouette that is sitting beside me on the floor of the balcony in a gray sweatshirt, blue jeans, strongly focused on something, totally timide to look into my eyes, vaguely following the clouds. To mouth and to describe the person who has evolved out of a letter silhouette into an alive, flesh-colored; out of the color of the letters into the color of the sunlight.

An utterly serious personality – the words are weak to neatly picture the whole seriousness of the Sun:
The beloved city is fundamental Stockholm.
Tests everything with watch that wears always on the right hand without an exception.
Carries pajamas in a suitcase
together with a DVD-player, adapters, travel guides (at least two of different authors for the true objectivity), possesses a purse, pockets are not used for money, bookshops are the first  in the Sun’s trip schedule, yes, schedules is the other vital detail: precise addresses and highlighted locations with pencil marks on the map...
But the most serious of the external expressions of the Sun is the look and beauty of its gestures...
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.. to be continued tomorrow ...

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Why Do I Fart When I Have The Flu

novembersome nature

jogging through november .. awesome feeling of the dying nature ..

Indian Different Types Of Boobs

SILHOUETTES

me the first time in a long time there where it snows, where a window with paint peeling off flakes of paints from life nude black and white tree, my favorite, against the backdrop of live sets from the blue Pochainskoy domes of the church .. all ends and begins with the speed of light. How many consecutive autumns my lips exhaled summer on a chilblain blind glass to see and have not appeared, but every moment expected silhouette. But my memory of the sea spread out before me a white-and-white, all in frozen lamb poslemetelny in an hour, often in the morning, painting the ocean of snow, on which my eyes run in marathons, without start and finish, penetrating to the heart dazzling whiteness, losing any meaningful glance, immobility of pupils was identical to the dead sea drifts. The only sea that I could absolutely have whole months, without breaks and pauses.

That silhouette mirage had my black and white night: it spreads out with a flash of flying lights and snow, then it finds a clear outline, and I recognize in someone else's favorite movements to pain gait. He left only with music of bells in the morning, with the hand with the moon, just a short time. Risen from its own absence, as soon as I closed my eyes, slowly and without a doubt getting into my dream. This silhouette by happy coincidence would have according to my relentless pleas to meet someday, and the person to whom he (Silhouette), however, did not belong, because he belonged exclusively to me, my imagination, but the imprint of which he was. Yes, I must say that the person really existed, was present in my life, though, by accident and negligence own self-esteem, and after he lived and did not know that his silhouette, walking on my night windows, trampled sheets of my dreams have become almost a reality.

Sometimes, people live like this: in the morning drinking coffee, listening to news about other people riding on the important issues in poor spirits, engaged in architecture meetings diary, half of which, if held, it will sink into the dustbin along with the ending diary, and go to sleep, after disabling the phone. To, God forbid, someone leaning against the glass for a thousand years unpainted windows, no holes in the next every well-constructed life applique fragments beskopromissno intrusive silhouette ...

This came foreword, afterword rather, about a man and silhouettes that are left in those winter fall forever .. Where I was the first time in a long time there. Where it is snowing, and the window with paint peeling off flakes of paints from nature, naked black and white tree, my favorite, against the background of live sets from the blue domes Pochainskoy church ... this time not for me but for someone else .. and draws most likely more ...

Now I have another fall. Another window. Another silhouette. Familiar, but with its own prototype, with a man go to sleep without turning off the phone and feel what happens in my dreams, with the frequency of sea tide ...

The Silhouettes

For the first time in the long history I am not present there ... where it is snowing now, where the window with a peeling old paint draws from nature a naked black-and-white tree, my favorite one, with alive scenery of blue domes of Pochainsky church. Everything ends and begins with a velocity of light.

How many autumns my lips exhaled summer on that freezed blind glass of the window to see the silhouette which would never appear and which was expected by me every second of the night. But happily my memory of the sea was spreading before my eyes the white-white cloth of the snow ocean, all in stiffened ripples just after the snowstorm, more often early in the morning, on which my eyes ran up in marathons, without start and finish, getting into the essence of a dazzling whiteness, losing any intelligence of a sight, motionlessness of pupils was identical to dead snowdrifts of the sea. The only sea which I could possess at that time, but possess absolutely, during several months, without breaks and pauses.

That silhouette tested my black-and-white nights with its mirages: sometimes it was spread in reflections of flying by car headlights and snow, sometimes it found accurate contours, and at that very moment it seemed to me that I recognize my favorite gait but it turned out that it was someone unfamiliar passing by my house. The silhouette have been leaving me only early in the morning when the music of the church bells started, usually holding hands with the moon, but absolutely for a short while. It was rising from its own absence as soon as I closed my eyes, slowly and without any doubts it was getting into my dream. This silhouette had to meet (according to my relentless prayers) someday the person to whom it, however, didn't belong because it belonged exclusively to me, to my imagination but the print of whom it was. Yes, it is necessary to tell that the person really existed, and was present somehow in my life, but truly speaking, happened in my life path accidentally and due to negligence of her own self-appraisal… and after all continued to live and didn't know that her silhouette walked diligently back and forth in my night window, trampled down the bed-sheets of my nightdreams which had become almost a reality.

It happens that people live in this way: they drink coffee in the morning, listen to news about other people, attend brilliant business meetings not in a brilliant mood, they are engaged in their schedule architecture that they create in the planner, but they do not realize that half of the appointments that fortunately for them take place will finally sink into a garbage box together with the planner and will leave no memory, no emotions, nothing. They fall asleep having preliminary turned off the mobile phone to be secure and not to let someone who leaned against the glass of a thousand year-old window to make again a hole in a well stuck application of life by splinters of an uncompromisingly persuasive silhouette …

This is a preface, better to say the epilogue, to the story about the silhouette that remained in those winter autumns forever. Where for the first time in the long history I am not present any more. Where it is snowing now. Where the window with a peeling old paint draws from nature a naked black-and-white tree, my favorite one, with alive scenery of blue domes of Pochainsky church…But this year the picture is drawn not for me..for someone else and most likely has some different image.

I am also in a different autumn. Near by a different window. With a different silhouette that has already got acquainted, however, with its own prototype, with the person who falls asleep without switching off her phone and feels that happens in my dreams with frequency of the sea outflow …