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October 26, 2010

Reality and Butterflies

Si cum ziceam, “it may be all gone tomorrow”. E ca un basm cu zane, spiridusi, dragoni si printese; voi il scrieti, il pictati, mi-l oferiti, iar eu sunt copilul care crede totul, care priveste cu ochii mari, tremurand, finalul. Numai ca vezi tu, inauntru nu mai gasesti inocenta pe care o cauti, ci doar o maturitate mai aparte intiparita pe zidurile Memoriei. Si inauntru este povestea mea, vie, curgandu-mi prin vene si printre caramizile de gheata, este ceea ce am invatat prin ignorarea propriilor sentimente. Si acum am de ales intre a ma asculta pe mine, cea care simte, priveste realitatea dezgolind-o de lirism si fluturi, si de a te asculta pe tine


Ce e Real aici, in lume, in mine ? Imagineaza-ti un copil intr-un basm, intre doua lumi. Daca intinde mana spre stanga, isi regaseste lumea dinauntrul lui. Ceea ce e aici, ceea ce sunt, ceea ce simt, ceea ce dau e real. De la autodistrugere la protectie si cuvinte imbracate in fluturi, de la promisiuni la raspunsuri, de la gheata din interior pana la razele care ard. E iarna, e frig si totul e alb si rosu. Si sunt numai eu aici. Dar daca ma intorc spre dreapta, e atat de multa culoare, atatia fluturi care zboara printre frunze, iar acel copil alearga dupa ei, cazand si crezand in lumea unui basm. Numai ca inainte de a intra, de a spune ‘’Si aici e Real ‘’, un zid imens de gheata, ca un voal prea gros, nu ma lasa sa merg mai departe. Si il ating pentru a-l simti, pentru Amintiri. E ATAT de rece incat ma arde, dar e si el real … pentru ca e parte din mine. M-ai inlocuit. Lectia numarul unu, de la care totul pleaca. De ce nu si ei ? Cum sa mai crezi, sa spargi, sa simti ce e in sufletele lor , cum sa-ti opresti propria teama ? Si e granita dintre Eu si Ei, dintre Realitate si Fluturi. Fiecare promisiune a fost goala. Fiecare detaliu ignorat. Fiecare privire s-a ascuns. Fiecare sentiment a luat foc. Fiecare particica din mine, din ceea ce vreau si ceea ce sunt a devenit invizibila. Si ceea ce e cel mai ciudat, e ca aici am invatat ca fericirea lor e doar o iluzie, ca ceea ce simt, vad, traiesc aici e temelia lumii din stanga, temelia de la care fiecare bataie a inimii se ridica. Si din constientizarea iluziilor ridicam Realitatea. Stii cata energie dai in fiecare zi pentru a creea asta ?


Realitatea mea e rece, goala, cu sentimente care circula pe o singura banda : de la mine spre tine. E cea eterna, care ucide de la inceput fiecare lucru efemer, e cea din care basmele nu mai prind viata, dar care inca mai imparte orele in profan si sacru. Fluturii ce zboara spre mine sunt fluturi pe care ii iubesc si in care as vrea sa cred. Dar e atat, atat de greu ! Pentru ca sunt simbolul sperantei, al fericirii, a lumii de dincolo. As vrea sa-i prind si sa-i tin in palme, sa-i ascult si sa-i mai cred. Dar atunci cand terminati de povestit basmul vostru, cand imi soptiti ca nimic nu a fost real, atunci va luati toti fluturasii pe care i-ati aruncat spre mine, cu care m-am jucat, si-i prindeti in pioneze, pe zidul meu. Pentru amintiri. Pentru a invata sa nu mai cred, sa mai sper. Cu toti fluturii morti asezati de-a lungul unui zid chinezesc, INCA mai poti, mai vrei sa crezi?


 Pentru ca sunt din nou un copil care nu mai crede in basme, prins insa intr-unul. Totul e paradox si ironie. Cat ar mai costa inca un vis ? O clipa, o viata, un suflet ? Ce si cat conteaza ? Sa cred in mine, sa cred in tine ? Sa cer o zi, sa nu mai cer nimic, sa ma declar infranta ? Sa sper din nou sau sa zambesc in tacere, ironic, asteptand sa-mi spui ca nimic nu a fost real ? Sa ma arunc in val fara a sti sa inot, sau sa-l privesc cum trece ? Sa dau, sa cer, sa cred … ? Sa aleg : valul sau marea.

October 24, 2010

Dawns of Hope



Last year I learnt to accept Faith. I have seen every piece of ray slowly sunsetting inside myself and Hope was killed inside of my soul.  I do not believe in anything.” Loneliness will always be here for me” – I knelt in front of it. “The I that you hide and saved you so many times, behind all the masks that you have will never be able to save you, because although you feel its force, you find it unreal.” I also knelt here, silently accepting. I died, this is what happened last year, this is why I can’t find anything good in that period, that’s why I found it funny to hear that while I was dying, hope, life, strength was receiving a shape in someone else’s life. But at the same time it was a warmth feeling, full of joy inside myself: this is what I wanted, this is what I protected. You were mourning yourself, while you were greeting the morning of joy in another dear life.


Slowly, I accepted everything. I retake my old masks – from the social one to the innocent one – and I accepted a future that is similar to my present, without a change. I felt angriness, bitterness, a part of myself was screaming and hitting the other part, but nothing react. Dreams are over. And then I got sad and fall into a sea of apathy: I am unable to believe, to hope, to dream. Let’s fool the others that we are moving, that we’re ok, let’s just smile and make them believe your walls are melting. They are not, because they are bigger, stronger, with new masks that are playing in front of them; the only difference is that another person is now inside of them, closed inside, near the heart, protected by a new orange wall. But inside of me, Silence has fallen, swallowing Faith, neglecting the waves, accepting the years.


You tried to wake me before. You kept on talking, kept on remembering me who I was, pushing me in front of the abyss."MOVE" you scream. “I can’t”, I kept on saying. Today you made my heart run so damn fast! You knew what is hurting me, you knew I couldn’t stand it, you knew my grief. But you kept on playing, like I was playing before… I guess we need to face pain in order to breathe again, to feel it again, to remember, to accept it ... And in those movements, from pain to sadness, from memories to present, suddenly a new voice hits you, united with the other one, making your heart running inside yourself, so fast that you feel the blood rushing inside yourself, hitting your veins, your walls and your pain. You felt a joy so huge, so real, so near your soul that you were afraid.


You are so crazy! Because you always swim against the wave.” Do you know that I forgot that? With beats of heart you feel hope again. You turn to the other side, getting up from your battle-field. You see the other I, the hidden one, that smiles at you, that waits. I learnt to obey last year. Now I remember how to disobey. I learnt to accept the Silence of defeats. Now I hear the Silence of Hope, of Joy, of marching on. I learnt to kneel and accept everything, to shut up when something is not ok nor fair, to stop telling what it hurts and where. I remember now tears, pain, screams, never kneeling down.


I am afraid of what I feel, new walls in my maze of walls are trembling of joy and fear, not knowing if they should let hope once again into their lives. A life without hope is like a marriage of life with death. I smile, remembering the beats, the joy, the reborn, the strength, the dreams, the I. I am afraid to hope, to look at the dawns of hope. But I write the portrait of today's feelings: I want so much to trust you! And although my mind is telling me not to hope too much, I can't stop what my heart is feeling, I can't stop the joy, the fever, the life inside myself. So I paint with words today's hope because you see … tomorrow it is possible that everything may be gone.

October 21, 2010

Ain’t No Sunshine …

A storm is approaching inside of me … this year, next one, or maybe in the following years. But its silent wind whispers near my soul that is going to be here and it’s going to be the biggest of all. And it’s ironic, because this one is my creation, has in itself all my weapons and feelings, all my walls, warmth and coldness, all my parts from my ego and all my wishes and it’s going to knock on my door and window: “You were my creator; you called me!”


We raise children to make them happy. We should become parents when we realize that a child isn’t our property, but a different human being, that giving life to a child does not only mean to carry him in your womb, but (and I would say especially) what you offer him afterwards. As parents we shape a life, a destiny. We mould without knowing his psyche and personality, we make him a happy being or a sad one, a ‘good’ person or a ‘bad’ one. “Everything begins in childhood”, the psychologists say. How many of us really understand these words? Adler and Simone de Beauvoir talk of patterns, of how the child imitates his parents’ behavior, how the circle of “good education” or “bad education” spins around for generations. They also talk of the fewest cases that realize their “bad education”, their unseen inner battles and how these persons become best educators, but cold human beings …


 Being a parent means sacrifices. And a real sacrifice made for love will never wear the word “sacrifice”, a person who makes such a sacrifice would never say to the other one “I made a sacrifice for you”. Because we make them in the name of love, for pleasure, for the better, for the safety of the person near us, be it a child, a friend, a lover or a relative. And no matter what we give, we feel a kind of joy inside ourselves. Can we understand and see the world through our children's eyes? Can we see for a moment the world through the eyes of dearest persons?


We should understand that our dreams are not the dreams of the child, we should learn to look at him and accept him as he really is, we should see what he likes and encourage him in his road, accept his silence in teenage years, we should show him his mistakes not by screaming at him “you’re wrong”, but by various questions and examples, we should let him make mistakes so that he can learn from them, and top of all, we should be here for him. In good and bad. Forever.


Sometimes I wish I wouldn’t know and feel so many things. Sometimes I wish I would not feel so old inside … Sometimes I wish that someone would see me and strongly hug me. How old am I? But there is nothing more powerful and everlasting than the sincere love of a parent towards his child. It’s a love different from the others, which maybe makes you a better person, a love so huge and at the same time so fragile that words are not enough to describe it. No matter if he’s your flesh and blood, or he’s only part of your soul. And there are so many, but so MANY mistakes that people do with their own children, so many “instincts” that they think they possess when actually their instincts have their roots in their own childhood, personality and education, so MUCH selfishness when you actually have in your hands the LIFE of another human being.


When we are in love, we feel happy everywhere, as long as we are near the loving one. But Time changes everything, washes away all the ephemeral things, Reality cuts from its roots romanticism and with the help of Time, puts a mirror in front of us. We move. From cities to towns, from towns to villagers; we give up our dearest cities because ... "home is where the heart is". But, how many of these couples think of their children? How many think of their education, of institutions, how many think that if they go on an island, away from civilisation, after a couple of years they would want for their child the best. And because of this they would have to choose: keep him near them, for an ordinary life, or teach him to search for the best, to educate himself and to see everything that can be seen and feel in a lifetime ... What would you feel when it's time to say good-bye?


 You see, these words are part of me, of my FEELINGS. Are they few, are they many? Call them thoughts, but this time, these thoughts have their roots in feelings. And yes, people for me are one and the same, people leave, people betray and they are all gray. I invest my love and time in people that are able to make a difference. Because I simply believe in the warmth and goodness of the soul. And yes, when this latter persons disappoint me or forget me, I feel pain and I close the door a little more in front of Humanity … And now, I feel that I’m on the verge of my last step: opening my hands and let her fly. I know I would do that. I know she would do that. Because I taught her to do so. But I also know that in that day every inch of my soul will burn.      

October 9, 2010

Call If You Need Me



"I know that the spades are swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this art
But that's not the shape of my heart "


Urasc telefoanele. Urasc ceasul lor desteptator, care ma rapeste dintr-un somn de care imi este atat de dor … le urasc cand suna fara sa se opreasca, la capatul celalalt fiind persoane banale, de care nu-mi este deloc dor. Si atunci cand suna si ma intrerup din activitatea pe care o fac, si atunci cand – mai ales atunci – cand le ignor si ele tot canta, neincetat, neintelegand ca la celalalt fir persoana respectiva nu e momentan acasa. Le urasc in salile de cursuri, atunci cand intrerup prelegerile, in salile de examen, cand te sperie cu un bazait surd sau cu o melodie nou-nouţă, fredonată de un X sau de o Y.  Imi displace sa vorbesc la ele atunci cand sunt cu altcineva, si imi displac plimbarile in care celalalt vorbeste mai mult cu o carcasa cu butoane … cat de distanti, profani si singuri am ajuns …


Le urasc atunci cand tac. In zilele cand am nevoie de o voce calda sau de cateva randuri de incurajare, atunci cand am nevoie de un prieten. Si ele tac, facandu-mi parca in ciuda …”Nu tu vroiai sa tac? Acum tac.” Le urasc pentru ca nu stiu sa le folosesc atunci cand trebuie, pentru a le spune acestor persoane cat de mult inseamna pentru mine, cand eu sunt cea vinovata, care nu da nici un semn de afectiune. Si cel mai mult le urasc atunci cand transmit un mesaj divagat, cand nici unul/una nu intelege ce se intampla, cand ne certam fara motiv, repetand cu ajutorul lor aceleasi greseli din trecut. Eu prin piticii mei de pe creieri si nesiguranta mea intr-un domeniu pe care-l stii, tu prin ceea ce uiti …


Does anyone know how my day was today? Have you ever been in Hell and then flew back on Earth? So fucking tired. Call if you need me. Because it’s one of the fewest calls that I love and appreciate. Call if I need you. If I knew how, I would definitely call you ... now. 


(end of September)

Bird set free

„Every time I find the meaning of life, they change it.” (Daniel Klein) You see, I’ve had a design, and I don’t know where I did wrong. ...