miercuri, aprilie 26, 2017

Remembrance (as a form of meeting)



Kahlil Gibran, Sand and foam, pentru a prefața cum se cuvine o întâlnire pe care am tot evitat-o, cu mine, atunci și acum:

”The reality of the other person is not in what he reveals to you, but in what he cannot reveal to you.
Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says but rather to what he does not say.
*
Half of what I say is meaningless; but I say it so that the other half may reach you.”

Nu cred că am fost niciodată eu. Nici nu cred că știu cine este acest eu la care ar trebui să mă raportez. Iar la un moment dat nici nu am mai încercat să aflu. Poate doar să mă aflu în cineva. Cea mai lungă perioadă în care am tot ”furat” din personalitatea cuiva a fost în facultate. Un soi de voyeurism. Iluzia unei suprapuneri, observată și hrănită, constant, de la o distanță confortabilă. Dorința de asumare a unor expresii și a mimicii care însoțea acele expresii. Exercitiu de devenire. Evident ratat. Ideea cum că a împrumuta din personalitatea puternică a cuiva (închipuită sau dedusă mai mult) este drumul cel mai scurt și direct către inima și mintea acelei persoane este pură naivitate. 

Frunzăresc acum prin muzica unui om pasionat de muzică, căruia multă vreme i-a lipsit un ”eu”, și mai apoi un ”eu” pronunțat. Zeci de ore de ascultat (și plăcut, ce-i drept) muzica omului pe urmele căruia voiam să calc, în speranța de a-l ajunge, la un moment dat, pentru a-i spune....ce? Că sunt. Dacă aș fi fost. Dar nu eram. Era el, în bună măsură oglindit în mine. 
Ani de zile am fost altcineva și totuși un pic si eu. Undeva, urme fine pe fundul sticlei. 
Nu mi-a plăcut niciodată sticla. Aici ne-am despărțit înainte de a ni se încrucișa vreodată drumurile.
Dar e normal să fi fost așa, nu? 

Ne-am întâlnit de zeci de ori, în atâtea variante. Precum Joel și Clementine. Finalul era mereu același. Nu am fost vreun moment făcuți să ne întâlnim și în viața reală. Doar accidental. Și adesea, unilateral neplăcut. Vina îmi aparține. Am existat doar în mintea mea. Fără nici o finalitate. Fără nici o dorință de materializare și fără nici o șansă de a construi ceva. Idealist-pesimist. Niște străini.Care s-au iubit, totuși, și fizic. Mai mult tu. Sau mai mult eu. Cert este că nu ar fi trebuit să se întâmple așa. Nu cu presiuni. Dar s-a consumat. Mai bine nu s-ar fi consumat. Îmi pare rău. 
Ție nu. Tu nici nu știi. Și, iarăși, e firesc să fie așa. Ai râs. Acum râd și eu. Atunci nu prea îmi dădea mâna să o fac. Acum, în mod comic, ești și tu dramatic. Atunci eram eu, în mod adolescentin. Pragmatic-pesimist.

Ai crescut și-ți atârnă greu aripile. Am crescut și eu, dar nu am avut niciodată aripi și nu mi-am dorit niciodată să zbor. Nu am știut și nu am putut fi eu atunci. Acum, însă, eu sunt și tu, sunt și mulți alții, sunt și părinții mei, sunt și bunicii mei, sunt și colegii mei, sunt și prietenii mei, sunt și oamenii pe care, la un moment dat, i-am iubit. Eu sunt suma a tot ceea ce am trăit în acest răstimp. Și tu vei fi purtat, prin timp, în mine, oriunde va fi să fiu. Prin muzica pe care o ascult datorită ție. Prin expresiile cărora le-am făcut loc în vocabularul meu limitat. Și ne vom mai întâlni, sunt convinsă, de multe ori, în tot la fel de multe variante, depășind, în mod confortabil barierele obligațiilor și ale decenței impuse de viața reală. Always damned to live a part-time existence/Wasting a half-life spent in the orphic distance. *”Intellectual property theft” meant to better illustrate the argument, regardless of the author's intentions or its prior intended recipient.

.........................................................................................

Sunt un om mic. Și la propriu și la figurat. Am așteptări din ce în ce mai mici. Am nevoi din ce în ce mai ușor de satisfăcut. Cele legate, cel mai adesea, de o pungă de pufuleți deschisă la începutul unui film de animație la sfârșitul unei zile. Sentimentele mă ancorează într-un cotidian cât se poate de firesc. Și totuși. Sunt un eu din ce în ce mai mic, până la evaporare. 
Te tot regăsesc într-o stare conștientă de visare și îți tot povestesc ce aș fi făcut diferit. Tot ceea ce nu am putut atunci, simțindu-mă strivită sub un ochi neprietenos și nerăbător să tranșeze problema. Îmi dau seama că, de fapt, după ceva ani, prea mulți – îmi spun câteodată, aș vrea să te revăd. Mi-e dor să te zăresc la un concert și să mă emoționez ca un copil în fața cadoului mult așteptat. Preț de câteva minute poate. 

Suntem ceea ce simțim. Stranded. One soundtrack I owe to no one but myself.



sâmbătă, martie 17, 2012

Stuck between winter and spring

You're like this wonderful book written in a language I don't understand. I am fascinated by your cover, I love the images you put forth, I want to go deeper and understand what it is you are concealing but then I stop and stare. I want but I don't.

vineri, ianuarie 27, 2012

Perfect

..How do you mend something which has been so thoroughly broken? and where do you go when your own skin proves to be an even bigger cage for your soul than the life you chose? all I ever do is close my eyes ignore the rumor and walk away. I don't want to know.I didn't want to know. What color are your lies and how far would you go?

Perfect. Strangers down the line. Lovers out of time. Memories unwind.

luni, ianuarie 09, 2012

It's a "Me vs you. You vs me" situation

I find myself in the position of writing again. It's been a while since I last wrote something consistent. Or perhaps I never did. The question that has been troubling my thoughts for some time revolves around the issue of hatred. So, brace yourselves for it shall be a long post.

We all hate something or someone. I hate you because : you're either too tall or too short, too thin or too fat, too pale or too red, too Black (well, one can never be Black enough) or too White, too Asian or too European, too rich, too stupid or too smart, too selfish or too generous (well, that never really happens, but for the sake of the argument), you either have too many faults, or on the contrary, you're too goddam perfect. You hate me because I speak too fast or too slow, too eloquent or too sarcastic, I have no sense of humor or too much of it (again I say you can never have too much of that). You hate me because I use a spoon, a fork and a knife instead of chopsticks or eating with one's hands.

You hate me because I came to your country looking for a better life, a better chance for a future both for me and my family. You hate me because I pollute your streets with traits of my culture, you hate me because I perform all the works that your people would never lower themselves to do. You hate me because I come from a place that is full of life, of colors, traditions yet it has collapsed into a state of extreme poverty. I hate you because you were once in the position of making my nation rise above its condition yet you plundered, raped our women and killed my countrymen, thus paving the road with degradation and backwardness for the generations to come. I hate you because, in the name of development and modernization, you exploited my people and my homeland leaving behind misery and madness, mothers weeping for their children and men deprived of their freedom and power/willingness to make their place a better one. I hate you for creating networks of corruption and human degradation to sustain and feed your insatiable hunger for power, money, glory, finest of women, finest of drinks and purest of drugs.

You hate me because I wronged you, I stepped on your foot while hurrying to get to my shitty corporation job. You hate me because I wear a suit and a tie. You hate me because I use a MacBook, an iPhone and an iPad. You hate me because I seem happier than you. You hate me because you think that underneath all these products of the modern world I am a heartless, robotized creep. I hate you because you are dressed in messy clothes, colorful and cheerful shirts and trousers. I hate you because you still use the old pieces of technology that used to make me happy when I was younger. I hate you because your depression is temporary while mine lasts for years. I hate you because you're smiling as we speak when looking at a poster while I lost my will to smile at the vision of simple things, years ago.

I hate you because you seem poorly situated yet free. You hate me because I seem sophisticated and rich. I hate you because you bring back memories of normality and a bitter taste of a weird nostalgia. You hate me because I've destroyed old buildings replacing them with glass and concrete square boxes that have come to represent the future of mankind. You hate me because this is the only way. I hate you because you're the bearer of the past. You hate me because I am the future.

I hate you because everyday on my way to work I pass by your wonderful wife and your two perfect kids, while you giggle and laugh continuously, covering the music in my headphones. I hate you because I might never have that. You hate me because you think I look suspicious around your kids. You hate me because you think I'm a stereotype with my rapist glasses and my corporate suit. I hate you because you are so goddam gullible. I hate you for the television-shaped, internet-shaped opinions, symbols, ideas. You hate me because you see me as a threat to your normality.

You hate me because I will never be the girlfriend that you imagined to have. You hate me because I will never be tall enough or short enough. You hate me because I will never make you laugh like your friends do. You hate me because I will never have a perfect skin. You hate me because I will never have crystal-clear blue eyes. You hate me because my tits are too small or too big (they never get too big). You hate me because my behind would never even dream of comparison to that of I-don't- know-what actress.You hate me because I will never resemble the images that you see everyday on the Internet and you hate me because this is the same face you open your eyes to everyday. You hate me because you claim I have stolen your freedom and your will to become somebody. You hate me because I need you to write me something nice daily, pushing you into doing romantic little things you would never have done but for me. You hate me because I am a burden to which you are bound by ties of fear and cowardice. Fear of solitude. Courage to set things straight through a normal, decent talk.

I hate you because I know all those things and more. I hate you because I feel. I hate you because you don't. You hate me because I'm addicted to the way sounds and words take form and come out of those pretty lips of yours. I hate you because you never cared enough to ask. You hate me because I would glue myself to your skin until I become part of your body. I hate you because you would tear us apart. You hate me because I get lost so easily in the small things and I fail to see the big picture. I hate you because you've already moved on to another picture.

I hate you because I do not possess your freedom of choice. I hate you because I am still confronted with the restraints and prejudice of the curious, starring world. While you swim in alcohol and pills, I swim in disgust and fear. I hate you because you hit me so hard that my blood rushes into my brain and screams each time for retribution. I hate you because your mistake is killing the both of us, while we sink in useless tragedies.

You hate me because I don't praise your work as others might. You hate me because I am weak and powerless at one single glance of your eyes. You hate me because I am such a bad liar when I try to put you down. You hate me because I can and will be more than a simple companion, smoothly trading onto a better future while you still search for your way. You hate me because I am the representation of your mother manifesting the same need of controlling you. You hate me because you think someday I might be the death of you. You hate me because my grin is the victory upon your manhood and the loss of your masculine identity. You hate me because I am not like the others when I should, in fact, stay in the kitchen and make that goddam sandwich of yours.

I hate you because you are not the image I have projected in my mind as a kid, with the knight in shinning armor, Templar to be more precise, fighting his just war against the infidels, and upon his return takinng by storm the one he chose to wed, and live side by side until the end of their days. I hate you because you did not take me by storm. I hate you because you think sense should prevail. I hate you because you contain your feelings thus making me appear exalted and desperate.

You hate me because I was careless enough to get pregnant, while you were so attentive and cautious. You hate me because I am stupid and clingy. You hate me because I have dreams of marriage and children instead of casual sex and open-relationships (whatever the f*ck that means). You hate me because I will never be the woman in those videos smoking weed and partying carelessly with a clean conscience the next morning. You hate me because I have no intention of getting a tattoo, let alone a tattoo of your name. You hate me because I am so simple yet I complicate your existence so much.

I hate you because you'll never be worthy enough of being the father of my children, yet by a common mistake, you are. I hate you because I couldn't get an abortion in due time thanks to your indifference. I hate you because I could have been somewhere better off without you, yet we are stuck and bound to ruin each others lives for good.

I hate you because you never get to our dates on time. I hate you because you never answer your phone. I hate you because you are never patient enough to listen to a single phrase I try to construct. You hate me because I am brutally honest. You hate me because I cover the truth in order to protect your naturally deemed as fragile feminine nature. You hate me because I am too like myself and less like you would want me to be. I hate you because you could be so much better yet you are not and refuse to change what I see as faults. You hate me because I prefer solitude to noise and useless social talks. I hate you because you are such a hypocrite. You hate my natural tendency of being rational and cold. I hate you because you cover your lack of judgment with ridiculous arguments.

I hate you because you're a fkin Communist/Liberal/Socialist/Labor Party/Green/Social-Democrat/or whatever. You hate me because I am the antagonist. I hate you because you are part of the opposition and the only way to survive is to crush you and your supporters. You hate me and you will not rest until you seize power for yourself and crush my political force during your mandate. I hate you because you are Black or Muslim or both, constituting the majority of the population and you stand in the way of my need of your natural resources, be they petrol, diamonds are a girls' best friend or wood. You hate me because I am the oppressor, not sharing power nor the spoils of the conquest.

You hate me because I am a Protestant/Catholic/Orthodox/Muslim/Mormon/Baptist/Hindu or whatever. I hate you because you do not share my religious beliefs, thus I will fight you until you are extinct. You hate me because my religion has more Gods than yours. I hate you because your religion professes welfare and harmony through simple yet do-able things. You hate me because I do not praise your ethical and moral values. I hate you because you might steal my believers and turn them into yours, thus diminishing the influence of the Church I represent. I hate you because your Church claims the authority over my Temple. I hate you because you have placed yourself in the way to my great "enterprise" called Christianization.

You hate me because I am a hipster. I hate you because you are a rapper. You hate me because I listen to metal. I hate you because you like Balkan music. You hate me because you don't see me intelligent enough as to understand punk/hardcore/oi/rac or the culture related to the phenomenon. I hate you because you will never understand rapcore. You hate me because I try to resemble Kurt Cobain. I hate you because I think you don't understand shit from the hippie movement. You hate me because I listen to dubstep while you used to listen to dub before it was step. I hate you because you don't know nor own as much music as I do. You hate me because I'm just a pretentious bastard. You hate me because I wear large pants and show an allegiance to the East or West Coast though I've never been to the US. I hate you because you are so friggin normal.

I hate you and all your governments and churches, and states, and nations. I hate you for being a law abiding citizen. I hate any type of authority. I hate anyone who claims to have an authority over me. I hate everyone equally. I hate humanity. I have lost faith. I have lost the game...oh, and I hate you because you wear those ridiculous red shoes.

You hate me because I hate you. But who started hating first? Was it me or was it you?

vineri, iunie 04, 2010

Son of a mfkin gun

Mi-e scarba de oamenii care imi spun fara pic de rusine, ca o replica la constantele mele proteste la adresa situatiei politice trecute,prezente si sa speram ca nu si viitoare : "nu-ti convine aici, pleaca!". Ce sa fac ma? Da ce ma dai tu afara din tara? e mosia lu ma-ta, e mosia lu prezidentu tau? Am sa plec cand vreau io ma, da deocamdata nu vreau sa plec, numa de-a naibii, stau aici si urlu cat pot eu de tare ca voi, populatia portocalie la cap, sunteti niste boi! uite asa, ca asa vreau eu. S-o credeti voi ca ramaneti aicea singuri sa va faceti de cap pe banii nostri si sa ne distrugeti bunicii si parintii! Voi imi doriti mie sa "traiesc bine" dupa standardele voastre, eu va doresc sa crapati cu un glonte in ceafa! Si da, sunt constienta ca vocea mea inseamna fix nimic, dar eu am un prost obicei... si anume sa nu aleg calea mai usoara si sa zic ca ma f** in tara voastra si in guvernul pe care l-ati ales, sa va spalati pe cap/in cap cu el. Nu acuma, cel putin. Probabil ca o sa obosesc sa imi pese si sa ma albastresc de nervi la fiecare chestie pe care o aud/vad zi de zi. Da' deocamdata nu! Si stiu ca mai sunt si altii care cred/simt la fel. Asa ca zic sa fie mult "rage indreptat impotriva establishmentului" si a boilor lasi care se complac in mizeria asta!

"Looking down the barrel of a gun
Son of a gun son of a bitch
Getting paid getting rich
Ultra violence running through my head
Fuzzy navel y'all making me see red"

vineri, martie 12, 2010

Pantelimonu' petrece

...petrece niste timp liber delectandu-se cu o treaba noua si interesanta (bine la mine ajunge mai greu informatia) :



...ca tot ma plangeam eu ca nu mai stiu ce sa mai ascult, solutia a venit de la un prieten care mi-a furnizat coverul facut de acesti tovarasi dupa melodia Sabotage a celor de la Beastie Boys. Frumos am zis, si am purces la a cauta si alte capodopere, respectiv empetreiuri, si se pare ca am dat peste doua bucati de albume : 2006 - Birthing the Giant si 2008 - Hail Destroyer/(la melodia Hail Destroyer e musai necesar sa se vizualizeze si videoclipul de mare angajament, serios) numa bune de ascultat si tipat in cor cu ei, urmand sa mai apara inca unul pe 13 Aprilie 2010 - Bears, Mayors, Scraps & Bones. Acestea fiind spuse, InJoy da shou!

joi, martie 11, 2010

Ma doare la ficati

Deci eu zic ca Romanica mea merge intr-o directie fireasca :
1. tovarasu' conducator suprem, cunoscut si sub numele de Traianus Augustus Omni(m)potentus Basescus a fost uns academician cu acte in regula de catre Academia Oamenilor de Stiinta (AOSR) - de altminteri o institutie respectabila,in urma unei atente si indelungate observatii asupra activitatii sale stiintifice in domeniul distilarii/prelucrarii/rafinarii/degustarii bauturilor pe baza de ambrozie si alcool. Logic. E bine asa, e ok? Eu zic ca da.

2. tovarasu' otevist Bocut - aflat in SubOrdinele liderului maxim(de inteligenta si talent) s-a gandit el putin si prost, cu ajutorul mai multor baeti ca e cazul sa isi asume raspunderea pe mai multe acte care sa dea peste cap o intreaga natie, afundandu-ne astfel si mai mult in prapastia saraciei si a disperarii, pe care le dadusem ca disparute in '89.

3. azi m-am trezit prea devreme pentru gustul meu. adica dimineata. pentru niste chestiuni de importanta academica. la propriu. da alta institutie decat cea la care e un adevarat tovarasul Basescu, a mea e de cercetari economice, phew! si ca sa ajung acolosha de unde ma aflu eu in general parcurg un traseu lung cu metroul, un traseu atata de lung incat simt ca ma invart in jurul axei proprii, timp in care meditez intr-o stare de semi-veghe in lanu' de papushoi, la sensul vietii, la astia de tot vin si pleaca din ea - pe principiul ce caut eu aici, da mai important ce cauta astia in viata mea? - pe langa multe alte dileme existentiale si idei de mare rafinament de se perinda la mine prin minte in tot acest timp. si cum stateam eu asa usor letargica spre adormita, brusc ma trezesc la viata si exclam cu un ton uberautosuficient - evident in sinea mea - Aia e maaaaa!Aaaaaad! Motivul revelatiei : un tovaras, mai cicalaca de felul lui asa, stand usor imprastiat in fata mea lectura/balea cu mult interes si spor Cancanul - ma rog, irelevant. Important e ce scria pe prima pagina, alaturi de o ilustratie de mare efect stilistic : "Spartanul Ricky a isterizat pustoaicele". Ce face? Asta e calea, viitoru si adevaru' manca-ti-as, asta e Romanica mea, ma. Tara lu Base doctor hause academicean', tara lu Udrea lector de..ma rog, lu gigichent semi-analfabet student de mare valoare la...orice facultate, ca toata pleava a absolvit ceva in tara asta si e masturbant, ups eroare vroiam sa zic masterand mi scuzi/masteranda/piranda/ceva acolo, si cel mai important tara spartaniilor - acolo unde Richi e idolu femeilor din camin de la Grozavesti, ducatoare la clabin', si traitoare din call-center - nu sunt o snoaba, da urasc proastele cu pretentii de gigete shmenare cu Dolce Cabana cumparate in rate care se uita la mine in metrou de parca as fi ultimu scuipat ca am shuzi in picioare si blugi largi - hai sictir! - asta e ma tara mea, o nebunie, o paranghelie generala, da parca are ceva....de nu ma lasa sa o dau dreacu' deocamdata. daca ei nu ma vrea, eu totusi ii vreau...ce sa fac, asa sunt eu mai fraera de felu meu...si nu inteleg cand mi se sugereaza sa ma car, eu mai stau, mai beau un suc si astept doar doar m-or da afara...daca merge si asa..

4. motivul cel mai adevarat de la care ma doare la ficati este acest martie jalnic, ca sa parafrazez un nume de melodie, ma rog ceea ce fac eu in mod obisnuit, ca numa la parafraze d-astea si la copy/paste ma pricep...ninge parca prea mult pentru gustul meu...desi azi, o zi de altfel activia de la danone pentru mine,m-am jucat in mormanele de zapada neatinsa de pe drumul catre casa, profitand ca la ora aia nu mai era nimeni,si mi-am adus aminte de Viva Parcu meu de acasa, si de derdelusurile de pe faleza si de datul cu sania obligatoriu si de lc-uri si de l-uri si de vendete de plozi mici, si de dunare inghetata si de prietenii mei si am simtit ceva ciudat care ma rodea la ficati si cred ca si la suflet - din ce in ce se strange cercul...oamenii mei, niste derbedei plecand unul cate unul..parca ma si vad, ultimul mohican/galatean ramas aici sa stinga lumina...da acuma pe bune..unde plecati ma cu totii, ma lasati a nimanui? o sa ajung calugar pustnic sa stau in casa sa ma joc solitaire - haha, ce ironic - ce-am mai ras..nu mai rad de ceva vreme asa cum radeam inainte, si mi-e dor. de oameni. si de..nush de chestiile care imi lipsesc. si in plus, mai am o drama, nu mai stiu ce sa mai ascult/vad/simt/cred..ce sa mai...numa complicatii..io ce zic, martie jalnic..si de la aprilie nu astept nimic. poate doar un bilet miraculos la Rock Am Ring, daca am bani si cu cine...daca nu stau acasa, ce-are?

*later edit. Danke for za pix mate,paranormala treaba si cu mintile astea de gandesc la fel uneori,acuma am dunarea trasa in poze chiar azi + melodia zilei, de la madarfacarii mei de inima albastra/verde/etc.(hed)piiii sacaarz - Blackout. Ataaaat.Punct. Somn.