The World Is Yours World is yours
03.Jan.2008, 01:57 pm 03.Jan.2008, 01:57 CC Skye “Celestial” ring CC Skye "Celestial" gredzens $150, CC Skye.com $ 150, CC Skye.com 
Sitting in the jacuzzi, I watch the steam bubble off the water black with night, the spa breathing puffs of gray floating towards golden city lights. Sēdēja džakuzi, es skatos tvaika burbulis pie melns ūdens ar nakti, spa elpošana inhalācijas pelēka peldošā uz zelta pilsētu gaismas.
My seat in the hot tub is like a throne: the Los Angeles night is laid out for me, though the kingdom looks like a miniature of itself, like a smart cut of cardboard glittering with yesterday's Christmas lights. Mana vieta karstā baļļa ir kā tronī: Los Angeles nakts ir izklāstīta man, gan valstība izskatās kā miniatūrā pati par sevi, piemēram, smart samazinājums kartons mirdzošs ar vakardienas Ziemassvētku gaismas.
I watch a tiny car silently buzz along the coast, but even the automobile doesn't scale the city for me: it all looks fake. Es skatīties tiny auto klusi sīkt gar krastu, bet pat auto nav skalu pilsēta par mani: tas viss izskatās fake. “Can you believe that each of those lights is a home, is whole world into itself, full of people the center of their own universes?” I ask. "Vai jūs uzskatāt, ka katram no šiem gaismas ir mājas, ir visa pasaule sevī, pilns ar cilvēkiem, centrs savas visumus?" Es vaicāju.
“You can't see house lights from here,” says The Boy. Tu nevari redzēt māja gaismu no šejienes, "saka Boy. “Those are all street lights.” "Šie visi ir ielu apgaismojums.
“Even way up in the Hollywood hills?” I look at a dark silhouette melting in the sky, a hump of land sunny days have shown to be a pricey mound of dirt littered with houses. "Pat tā izveidota Holivudas pakalniem?" Es paskatos uz tumšs siluets kausēšanas debesis, kupris zemes saulaino dienu izrādījušās pricey pilskalns netīrumi pakaišiem ar māju. The hills are freeways away, but I think if I stretch my hand far enough out of the steaming water I can grab them, and crumble their earth in my fist. Kalni automaģistrālēm prom, bet es domāju, ka ja es stiept roku pietiekami tālu no tvaicējot ūdens es nevaru paķert viņus, un drupināt to zemi, manu dūri.
“Yeah,” says The Boy. "Jā," saka Boy. “Look how equally spaced the lights are.” "Paskaties, kā arī izvietotas posma gaismām."
I blink, I look again, and I still just see this twinkling diorama of life, that, “Looks so unreal.” I pillow my head on my arms, on the cool tile of the spa. Es blink, es vēlreiz, es vēl tikai redzēt šo acumirklis diorāma par dzīvi, ka "izskatās ļoti neticams." Man spilvens galvu uz manas rokas, par atdzist dakstiņš spa. My mind crystalizes, and I realize my brain's a world of its own world: so I decide that all the lights barely beyond my reach are sparks of homes. Manuprāt crystalizes, un es apzinos savu smadzeņu pasaules savu pasaulē: tāpēc es nolemt, ka visi gaismas tikko pēc manas REACH dzirksteles mājās. The truth is as clear as the city's stars' reflection in the hot tub, but then I slap the water and splash away the mirror image. Patiesība ir skaidrs, kā pilsētas zvaigžņu atspulgu karstā baļļa, bet tad es iepļaukāt ūdens šļakatām prom spoguļattēls. It all looks fake, anyway. Tas viss izskatās fake, anyway.
Like the sky above. Tāpat kā debesis iepriekš.
I watch a plane jet into the black air, and realize that its red and white blinking dots mark the path of hundreds of passengers, each with their own story, their own worlds. Es skatīties lidmašīnu reaktīvo vērā melnā gaisu, un saprast, ka tā sarkanā un baltā mirgot punkti zīme ceļš simtiem pasažieru, katrs ar savu stāstu, savas pasaules. I blink, and the jet is lost in the sky. I blink, un reaktīvo ir zaudētas debesīs. “It looks like black velvet that someone poked holes into for stars,” I say. "Tas izskatās kā melnais samts, ka kāds poked caurumus ar zvaigznēm," es saku. I tip my head back so my neck aches; my discomfort is a fair price for the view of earth's glittering ceiling. Es tip galvu atpakaļ tā mana kakla sāpes, mana neērtības ir taisnīga cena, ņemot vērā zemes mirdzošs griestiem.
“Yeah, Exactly what I was thinking.” The Boy backs into me, fingering my nakedness. "Jā, tieši tā, ko es domāju." Boy atbalsta manī, aptaustīšana mans kailums. “Do you see Orion's belt up there?” I lean further backwards, he kisses my neck. "Vai jūs redzat Oriona jostas tur augšā?" Es liesa tālāk atpakaļ, viņš skūpsti manu kaklu. “Look at all those little dots. "Paskaties uz visiem šiem maz punktiem. Whole universes completely unaware of us.” Viss visumus zināms par mums. "
I look at him and realize the world's not contained in a lousy grain of sand, but in each inch of skin that he lights up with his finger tips. Es paskatos uz viņu un realizēt pasaules nav ietverti draņķīgs graudu smilts, bet katrā collas ādas, ka viņš tiek izgaismota ar pirkstu galiem. “Who cares.” "Who cares".

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03.Jan.2008, 10:48 pm 03.Jan.2008, 10:48
Oh Krissi, the illiteration……….did I spell that right? Ak Krissi, illiteration ... ... .... Gan es izskaidrot šīs tiesības?
ps I've never been to LA you lucky minx ps es nekad neesmu bijis LA esat laimīgs draiskule
-Z'maji @ -Z "maji @ http://hauteblogxoxo.wordpress.com http://hauteblogxoxo.wordpress.com
04.Jan.2008, 03:03 pm 04.Jan.2008, 03:03
Not that snarky wit I've usually come to adore, but this one is beautiful in its own right. Nevis snarky wit Man parasti ierodas adore, bet šī ir skaista pati par sevi.
04.Jan.2008, 08:34 pm 04.Jan.2008, 08:34
now I know you don't be sayin my girlieeee aint bein whitty dog! tagad es zinu, ka jūs neesiet sayin mana girlieeee nav Bein whitty suni! Stop the haitin, give the internetless girl a break. Stop haitin, sniedz internetless meitene pārtraukuma. Christmas already! Ziemassvētki jau! now say your sorry, yes, I mean it. Tagad pieņemsim, ka jūsu žēl, jā, es domāju tā. =+) = +)