Bilantul part I

Bilantul pana acum: a trecut jumatate de an 2010.
1. Am cunoscut o cultura noua, m-am indragostit de ea si m-am despartit de ea.
2. M-am despartit si de barbatul de care ma indragostisem si cu care imi imaginam ca-mi voi petrece restul vietii.
3. Am invatat germana la un nivel pe care nu-l concepeam a-l putea stapani, terminand cel mai tare curs specializat, dar am continuat un altul care mi-a mancat banii, timpul si cheful de a mai invata o limba cu jumatati de masura.
4. Am ramas la fel de somera ca si pana acum (Doar nu e vina nimanui ca am fost atat de idioata incat sa cred in iubire pura si eterna, sacrificandu-mi pana si jobul si parintii si pozitia sociala si prietenii pentru ea!).
5. Am sarutat doi tipi pe care ulterior nu i-am mai vrut langa mine (si acum urmeaza partea psihiatrica)pentru ca sechelele de pana acum m-au determinat sa am o conditie de neincredere generala in oameni, dar in mod paradoxal nu am mai avut un orgasm de… hm… mult.
6. Sunt mai dezamagita de Romania acum, decat eram inainte sa plec din ea si regret ca m-am intors. Regret si mai mult ca am ramas aici, dar hei, ce era sa fac? Germania nu ma mai vrea.
7. Si ah, da: cochetez cu ideea de Canada (foarte complicat insa, caci s-ar putea sa am reala nevoie sa cunosc franceza fluent, iar eu nu cunosc o boaba).



Planuri de viitor:
1. Sa nu ma sinucid, sa supravietuiesc si sa-mi pastrez speranta ca undeva, in viitorul cel mai indepartat s-ar putea sa „outlive this life to actually live it”.
2. Sa gasesc un job din al carui prim salariu sa-mi cumpar un vibrator (mult mai practic si… necomplicat!), iar pentru partea cu afectiunea… did I mention I have a dog? Problema rezolvata!
3. Sa-mi dau odata examenul de carnet din banii aia de salariu mega-giga-extraordinar al noului meu job (inexistent inca).
4. Sa continuu sa am acea conditie psihologica de neincredere generala in oameni si sa nu mi-o schimb niciodata!
5. Sa pot sa-mi iert fostul iubit si mai presus de toate, sa-mi pot ierta mie prostia si naivitatea cu care am putut iubi. *Nota pentru sine: a nu mai iubi vreodata (atat de altruist) ?
6. Sa invat sa zambesc din nou. Sa invat sa rad din nou din suflet.
7. Sa invat sa fiu optimista

Gheisha

The Last Letter

Words seem to fade into this darkened realm of summer sunbeams and gentle bird whispering. The acknowledgment of life going on without you there seems to strike your ultimate chord. The sun will still rise and fall, the birds will still sing their songs, and all that you'll eventually do is rot.

But the rotting itself doesn’t bother me. If there's one more thing to reconsider, it's the pain. Not mine, but theirs. And the only thing I'll have to put up to when the blade pierces my skin is all the tears that i have no right to induce.

I've heard of so many people writing these letters, as a good-bye sign from beyond here. One thing they never miss to write is "I'm sorry" for so many reasons. Why do they do that? Why should they be sorry for trying their best and failing? They tried, didn't they? Thrown here, in this God forsaken part of the Universe, amongst species too self-centered to even resume their essence to a thousand of their genetic requirements, forced to live according to social and political rules that they could never understand. But they tried. They tried to understand the meaning of coins and bills, to comprehend the tendency to bury and cry for bodies and the laughter and celebration for so-called marriages that end in so-called divorces.

They understood Nature. They understood the language of Flowers. They learned to communicate without words and cry without tears. They learned to reproduce the songs of the wind, the flowing of water, the dance the earth dances and the flames of fire. But art never was what it seemed to be here. As one last resort, they threw everything away and turned to these humans. It was to be the last solution. If this would fail, it was to be very clear that their purpose here was an error of a higher system.

So they did. Human psychology. Human behaviorism. Human rules. Even Humanity. Everything failed. Everything so empowering about humans seems to be washed away by their evil nature. We all hope we are good inside. But most of us aren't. The ones that fight this system end up like Christopher McCandless or Ghandi. And what may remain is your name. After a while, that dusts away, too, because humans have this unexplained tendency to forget. I guess forgetfulness comes with death.

Guess I want to forget, too. But it's always gonna be those bloody tears piercing my soul before the piercing of the flesh... How human am I?...

Cliseic.

Cliseic. E noapte, ascult Laura Stoica (nu stiu nici eu de ce si cum am ajuns la ea...) si cumva, sa-i ascult versurile, versurile pline de sperante si deziluzii ale unui om mort in culmea vietii, rezoneaza altfel. Traia ultima oara cand am ascultat-o.



Incepi sa resfoiesti prin propriile-ti pagini pline de amintiri, sa culegi plin de intelepciune pe cele bune de cele rele, sa triezi, sa ordonezi si sa iei aminte inca odata la lectiile predate de viata. Imi dau seama acum ca am chiulit la cateva din lectiile importante, iar pe altele le-am luat cu note bune. Dar, la urma urmelor, care e sensul acestei scoli a vietii? Cine absolveste Magna cum Laudae intr-adevar?

Sa fie cei care sufera mai mult sau cei care se bucura mai mult? Cei care iubesc sau cei care ajung sa invete din propria singuratate? Si la ce bun dorul de cel drag, euforia noii relatii, disperarea unui divort? Ne folosim oare intregul panel de sentimente si senzatii la adevaratul nivel?

Madalina Manole acum. "As fi dat un regat sa fii fericit" aud cantat cu arta pe note. Despre asta vorbeam. Cateodata am impresia ca ne irosim umanitatea in scopuri mult prea lumesti, inferioare.

Am scris randuri intregi. Cand m-am asezat in fata "foii" nu stiam exact ce vroiam sa scriu. Cred ca nici acum nu stiu exact. Ciudat cum sufletul poarta atatea poveri nedescoperite care asteapta doar o foaie, sau o ureche dornice sa pastreze intr-ansele confesiunile oricarui nebun ce trece prin viata!



Apasarea reala a acestei lumi, cred, e de a nu-si putea decarta cabaritul frustrarilor, de a nu fi capabila de a se face auzita. Nu cred ca am fost dintotdeauna astfel, atat de preocupati de propriile noastre frustrari, incat sa fim prea frustrati pentru frustrarile altora, contrar dogmelor stiintifice ale evolutionismului. Vreau cu incapatanare sa cred ca inceputurile umanitatii si omeniei nu stau in religie, ci in evolutionism, ca doar undeva de-a lungul evolutiei societale aceasta religie a intervenit pentru a ne readuce aminte de ceva ce stiam deja, dar de care ceva mai mare si puternic decat noi insine ne-a privat: un regim politic, un sistem bancar, o rata imobiliara, o departajare in clase sociale, poate.

Oare cat de frumosi am fi toti fara aceste masti pictate pe fetele noastre?

Constant Fear

Spicuiesc printre note, ma gandesc la Twin Peaks si ma intreb nu cine a omorat-o pe Laura Palmer, si nici de ce... ci, mai degraba, daca merita sa moara pentru a rula o melodie mai slaba decat cea pe care am primit-o si postat-o mai sus.

Spicuiesc printre note si-mi realizez existenta in masurile de optimi ale creatiei. Un perpetuum mobile, un flux continuu, fara de inceput sau sfarsit.

Spicuiesc. Si aterizez pe 1000 de petale ale unei miriade de ganduri, fara de scop si fara de cauze.

Si se numeste "frica constanta". Iar eu spicuiesc temerar prin ea.

Experiment...

...liric?

Facusem o remarca intr-o discutie nocturna cu un bun prieten. Afirmasem ca nu mai scriu de vreo 3 ani. Pentru ca mi-am pierdut inspiratia si muzele. Pentru ca nu mai am timp. Pentru ca am crescut mental. Pentru ca iubirea nu imi mai afecteaza de ceva vreme sufletul (care suflet?...)

Mi-a sarit in cap. Mi-a dat o tema de casa. Probabil ca firea sa altruista refuzase sa creada ca fiinta umana se poate debarasa de sursa oricarei creatii artistice. Am dat curs experimentului. 6 cuvinte, o poezie. Voila...

Buze si Vant

Furtuna se lasa peste noi si peste glob,
Curgand nori, formand potop de lacrimi,
Iar undeva din al padurii negru lob
Un vant adanc reaprinde patimi.

Caci ce e în viata mai frumos
Decat caderea-abrupta,
In timp de ploi si iz lucios,
Pe buze ce saruta?

Still Addicted.

Povara unui Refuz

Oamenii sunt slabi. Ce noutate! De parca nu am stii. Da, oamenii sunt slabi intr-o multitudine de privinte, insa azi sunt slabi din perspectiva uneia singure - frica de ei insisi.

Nu cred ca ne putem aminti primul refuz. Eram poate prea mici sa pastram acel act de limitare a unor drepturi in propria noastra minte. Un nu ai voie sa pui mana acolo, pana la nu da suzeta pe jos... pana la un Nu, nu te plac sau un Nu ma mai deranja. In orice stadiu al vietii noastre, l-am auzit, l-am vazut, l-am simtit. NU-ul e unul dintre cele mai frecvent folosite cuvinte in limba romana a secolului XXI. Ironic cum atatea deschideri tehnologice si informationale lasa loc unei inchideri de sine si unui egoism brutal !

Si totusi, refuzul este benefic. Natura noastra umana insa, de prea multe ori nu stie sa decripteze refuzul, vazand nu-ul ca pe o amenintare asupra pozitiei lor de avantaj sau asupra propriului orgoliu. Indivizii au invatat la perfectie arta refuzului, dar nu si arta de a fi refuzati, arta de a accepta refuzul. Suntem atat de mici si insignifianti, insa pastram fiecare din noi in noi insine dorinta obsedanta de a ne manifesta gigantic. Si acest lucru este benefic. Insa nu toti intelegem adevarata folosinta a acestui univers ce sta sa explodeze in noi...

Presupun ca nu exista solutii clare si generale pentru aceasta stare de fapt. Insa stiu ca alternativele de schimbare sunt in numar de doua: prima ar fi combaterea focului prin foc, cautand temerar orice refuz, pana la atingerea supradozei letale; deznodamantul poate fi doar unul - acceptarea si aprecierea Nu-ului... sau a doua: ati vazut vreodata filmul "Yes, Man!" ?




Ar trebui sa ajungem sa intelegem ca orice sut in fund e pe bune un pas inainte si ca orice esec si refuz ne poate intoarce in directiile cele mai nebanuite de catre noi. Unii lupta in continuare. Bravo lor, fiti perseverenti si permiteti-va sa nu aveti regretul "ce-ar fi fost daca" -ului! Altii merg mai departe, trecand pe langa esecuri cu un caracter demn de admirat. Invata si isi pastreaza fruntea sus. Majoritatea insa... se blocheaza in starea iminenta lipsei eterne a stimei de sine. De ce sa fugi de viata cand stii prea bine ca nu te poti ascunde de ea?


Pentru Denis

Trip to Cucuta - Scene II

In this scene the action takes place on the ship going to Cucuta. Like sound-effects - some waves, wind...

Wife: (screaming very upset) Eatel!!! Throw away that mirror! We’re having a good time here!
Father: Oh, yeah! You know, I didn’t know I like poker so much, until now!... and… I’m so lucky!
Wife: (surprised) Oh, you feel lucky, huh? Let’s make a deal! The one who loses throws Eatel abord!
Father: Deal! Done! Shake hands! (sound of dealing cards)
Eatel: Drinka, I’m so hungry, I haven’t eaten for 2 days! Let’s order something. (sounds of empty stomach)
Drinka: I’m just a bit thirsty!
Eatel: Waiter! Hey, you! I’m dying here! (steps coming)
Waiter: Yes, sir.
Eatel: I want… oh, I’m so hungry that I can’t decide. Drinka, what do you think, a cake or a pancake?
Drinka: I don’t know! Trap question. Take a pancake. It has fewer calories.
Waiter: Anything else?
Eatel: She would like a juice or something.
Drinka: Yes! Four bottles of scotch, keep the ice! Two champaignes and the best wisky you’ve got!
Waiter: (flabbergasted) Of…course...
Wife: (extremely happy) Haha! You lost! God, I’m good!
Father: (crying) Oh, what have I done? Eatel, my child!
Eatel: (passively) Not now, dad! I’m eating!
Father: (symphatetic) Eat, my child, eat! (low voice) After all, it’s your last meal…
Wife: (aggresive) Boy! Two coffees!
Father: Without sugar!
Drinka: And one more bottle of whisky!...
Wife: Drinka, for the love of God, I’m not carrying you to your room up those steps again!
Drinka: Noooooooo worries (singing) I want to sleep with the fish tonight!
Father: What’s her problem? And why is she dressed like a nun???
Wife: (low voice) Shhh, don’t remind her! Titi dumped her…
Father: (shocked and loud) What? Why? Why would Titi break up with our beautiful daughter?
Drinka: (bursting and running around the ship): Nooooo, why Titi, why? I’m sorry!!! (crying loudly)
Wife: Hey, where is that coffee?! It’s been 5 minutes! Incompetents!

(opposite part of the stage)

Commander of the ship: Madame, Sir, (bowing his head and smiling) Enjoy the trip!
Wife: (screaming) What’s to enjoy? You’re all incompetents! Each one of you! Oh (appologising), you’re their king, I’m sorry.
Father: She’s right!
Commander of the ship: Please relax! I’ll order coffee for you! On my behalf!
Wife: What a coincidence! That’s what we ordered 10 minutes ago and it seems we’ll get it on the other side!
Commander of the ship: (low voice like talking to himself): I’ll take care you do! (talking to wife) – Excuse me, I have to withdraw! (steps)
Wife: Do that!
Father: Eatel! (running steps)
Eatel: (on command) Yes, dad!
Father: Jump overboard!
Eatel: Yes, dad! (sounds immitating splashing of water)
Father: Good boy.
Wife: That was fast!
Father: Of course! He was always such a good boy! (wiping fast a little teardrop on the corner of his eye)

(opposite part of the stage)

Commander: My dear Butchy, do you see that ugly lady and her big ass husband over there?
Butchy: (oddly resembling to the size and intelligence quotient of an ogre) duh… duh ones who waves to fishiiies?
Commander: Yes. Introduce them to a lifeboat
Butchy: No problem, boss!
Commander: Oh, and take that drunk nun to keep them company!
Butchy: (a silent laugh)