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November 27, 2011

November Rain

I had a hole in the middle where the lightning went through it
told my friends not to worry
I had a hole in the middle someone's sideshow wouldn't do it
I told my friends not to worry...


“Find a place inside where there’s joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.” (Joseph Campbell) - This is what I was trying to remember all this week: the joy inside of me, of us, the joy in which I believe.

I run away from people when I most need them. I bang doors when I want you to keep them open for me, I am the coldest person on Earth when I most need a hug … I want someone to show me a door, a window, something that I could break into pieces … because, you see, there is a time when Silence becomes the same as the loudest sound of the universe. The silence inside yourself, of future. How can you escape that silence? ... I want a whole new beginning.


















 Stupid

Raymond Carver
 








 It's what the kids nowadays call weed. And it drifts
like clouds from his lips. He hopes no one
comes along tonight, or calls to ask for help.
Help is what he's most short on tonight.
A storm thrashes outside. Heavy seas
with gale winds from the west. The table he sits at
is, say, two cubits long and one wide.
The darkness in the room teems with insight.
Could be he'll write an adventure novel. Or else
a children's story. A play for two female characters,
one of whom is blind. Cutthroat should be coming
into the river. One thing he'll do is learn
to tie his own flies. Maybe he should give
more money to each of his surviving
family members. The ones who already expect a little
something in the mail first of each month.
Every time they write they tell him
they're coming up short. He counts heads on his fingers
and finds they're all survivng. So what
if he'd rather be remembered in the dreams of strangers?
He raises his eyes to the skylights where rain
hammers on. After a while --
who knows how long? -- his eyes ask
that they be closed. And he closes them.
But the rain keeps hammering. Is this a cloudburst?
Should he do something? Secure the house
in some way? Uncle Bo stayed married to Aunt Ruby for 47 years. Then hanged himself.
He opens his eyes again. Nothing adds up.
It all adds up. How long will this storm go on? 
















Late Fragment

Raymond Carver








 And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.

(http://www.poemhunter.com/raymond-carver/)


November 5, 2011

Punct.

Ma gandesc de ceva saptamani la lucrurile facute pentru ceilalti vs. lucrurile facute pentru mine. Saptamana aceasta, spre exemplu, stateam in fata ecranului, citind despre teorii literare, cand alte cuvinte, alte incaperi, alte sunete mi s-au perindat prin minte. Mi-e dor sa scriu pentru mine, acele pagini mazgalite, modificate si apoi inchise intr-un fisier/intr-un dulap.


In al doilea rand, imi displac lucrurile virtuale: ne etalam viata personala in poze intime puse pe ici pe colo, in postari, in urari, uitand ce inseamna o imbratisare, un cuvant, o privire. Din pacate, traim intr-o era ,,fara timp”, al tehnologiei, in care internetul ne ofera o posibilitate de exprimare ... din nevoia de a scrie, de a fi citit, au aparut blogurile noastre ...


Inainte de bloguri, inainte de a scrie, inainte de teorii literare, s-a nascut in mine pasiunea de a citi, de a vorbi, de a comenta paginile citite. Cum pasiunea asta a mea a fost trecuta la categoria „anormalitati” de cei din mediul meu, am inceput sa-mi doresc un coltisor al meu, uman, facut din oameni cu aceleasi „anormalitati”, oameni asemenea mie. Trancaneam din anul I de facultate cu ai mei colegi de inexistenta unui grup de lectura in cadrul faculatii de Litere, urmand apoi perioada mea de declin, lectiile mele de inot, si apoi dorinta de a ma reintegra ... am vrut astfel sa intru intr-un bookclub tinut in engleza, dar unde organizatoarea a uitat sa ne anunte de schimbarea locatiei. am vrut sa-mi fac grupul meu, dar prea mult orgoliu, prea multe cuvinte, prea mult de pierdut. am fost chemata sa tin un bookclub intr-o librarie din Iasi, dar ca sa vezi, aceasta a dat faliment inainte de a organiza eu ceva. Si-n cele din urma, m-am agatat de Schimbul de carti din Iasi, sperand sa gasesc acolo ceea ce cautam ...


Iasul m-a dezamagit profund pe partea de cultura. M-am nascut aici, am crescut aici, am invatat aici, lucrez aici. Mereu l-am vazut ca pe un oras cultural, numai ca oamenii, ca-n orice alt oras probabil, se inghesuie in puburi si-n discoteci, iar librariile raman goale la intalniri precum SdC. In opinia mea, SdC in Iasi nu a existat anul acesta – oameni comentand bucurosi pe cale virtuala de existenta lui, intreband cand se va tine, scriind articole despre el, dar nici unul care sa participe efectiv la el, care sa contribuie la existenta si evolutia lui ...


Mi-a luat ceva timp pentru a renunta la ceea ce iubesc. In mod sigur, un bookclub era acel lucru facut pentru mine. Nu doar pentru ca ma implic total in ceea ce fac, ci si pentru ca simt ca meritam un astfel de loc: sunt cea care citeste cele 50 de carti pe an, sunt cea care stie diferenta dintre un cititor amator si unul pasionat, cea care vede intr-o carte/intr-o recenzie talentul innascut al scriitorului si tehniciile invatate, inspirate de la altii. Sunt cea care scrie din momentul ce-a invatat sa tina un stilou in mana, cea cu vointa de fier, care nu renunta cu usurinta. Astazi insa am pus punct la un vis ce-l aveam de mult – din lipsa de timp, din orgoliu, din nevoia de a fi respectata, asa cum sunt eu. Nu pot sa-mi raspund la lucrurile oferite celorlalti si la lucrurile ce mi le ofer mie, la lucrurile pe care le fac pentru mine, dar am decis sa raman cu teancul de foi de corectat, cu planurile de lectii si pregatirile suplimentare si, ironic, sa continui ceea ce fac, incercand sa cresc, pe plan virtual, prin bookblog si sectiunea mea de aici, The Joy Luck Club.


Punct.

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. ...