Having a cry because I suck at dmc atm D::: 

Why is everyone so fucking grimm all the time? It’s not cool. 

For some reason, every now and again I like to read about all the earthquakes we have had over the past 2 and a half or so years. It still amazes me how despite the magnitude it was the most powerful earthquake ever recorded and how we got away with only 185 deaths, and half of them within the same building, like that’s incredible. I feel strange that since I was 14 I have experienced over 10,000 earthquakes, not all were felt, but that one earthquake can trigger that much, I just, it seriously amazes me and what the whole city has been through and how almost lucky we are to have a clean slate, to start again… that was random… sorry. 

This halo ad has been on so much. All like, “Halo 4 out now” and I’m all like, “Bitch please, clocked that the day it came out, which was ages ago.” 

Why I love music.

You can never really understand music, and a composers journey, until you play it, and embrace it, and listen to it at the loudest volume. While playing Poulenc’s first Nocturne, I gained an insight into what he was going through, and found myself relating to this music. When I first started playing this piece I immediately thought, “I’m pretty sure this guy is bipolar” turns out, he suffered from bipolar disorder. The fact that one can gain this, knowledge, just by embracing music, is not surprising. Music is like a gateway to someone’s soul. You can never really understand what Yoshiki Hayashi went through during his whole life without singing along with him at the top of your lungs letting every word flow to your heart and take over your mind, letting all your emotions run free, throughout your whole body, after this, you finally understand, to a certain degree, how he feels, what he’s been through, and these songs will never just be a song with the pretty melody and lovely harmonies, it will be the song that releases all these emotions you have never come across before. You can never understand Kyo’s passion until you have screamed with him, letting everything out and just letting go. You can never understand The GazettE until you have cried listening to their songs and watching their live shows. After this important ritual, music will never be the same. You will still love it, and listen to that song on repeat all night long but you will have a greater insight, and feel what they feel, maybe even relate it back to something you have experienced, being comforted knowing that someone else has been through that. Music is so much more than notes on a score, it is everything you feel, everything you don’t even realise you feel. Music is a way of releasing everything that has ever troubled you, or reminding you of all the amazing things that have happened in your life. Music is life. 

il y a 2 ans · 5 714 notes · Reblog
#text #lol 


This is the twelfth poem from Kyo’s first book of poetry, Jigyaku. With a few changes, it  is essentially the lyrics to the Dir en grey song “Ain’t Afraid to Die” (there are a few changes in kanji and one stanza is missing.)

Personally, I think the poem’s title, “Light Scarlet Lips,” is a lot more apt a name for the lyrics than the song title is. The paradox in the title (“light” scarlet isn’t really possible; scarlet is a deep, brilliant red) reflects the difference between the wanted and actual realities in the poem. “Ain’t Afraid to Die” doesn’t make too much sense because the narrator of the poem is actually moving on from a painful breakup, not accepting death. I think the song title is just another case of early Dir en grey picking English titles somewhat randomly in order to please their audience (“Jealous” is another one; what’s there to be jealous of in that song?).

Please look at the scans of the book pages from right to left, starting at the title page.












Light Scarlet Lips

The road where we used to walk together is gone,
And yet I kept walking, thinking that in time I would see you again.

At the top of that gently sloping hill, the snow softly falls and I understand it will never happen.
In your room, the flower that I loved is now…

On the last snowy day of last year, we stiffly exchanged promises,
If I remember, it begins to dissolve and flows from my hand.

At the top of that gently sloping hill, the snow softly falls and I understand it will never happen.
In your room, the flower that I loved is now…

On my own by the window, I gaze at just snow as I remember you.
Beyond the glass pane, I give you a last kiss…

At the top of that gently sloping hill, the snow softly falls and I understand it will never happen.
In your room, the flower that I loved is now…

The light quietly colors the town white,
The last season you saw.
I shed tears. Reality is cruel, isn’t it?
The last season you saw,
With the four seasons, you have nearly vanished.
The snow is melting and on the street corner, a flower blooms.
The “colors” you saw softly melt.

On the last snowy day of this year, a single flower on the street corner,
If I look up, the last of the snow will flow from my hand.

(Source : leilockheart)

il y a 2 ans · 33 244 notes · Reblog