Saturday, September 4, 2010


as a kid i used to tink of sunsets as beautiful deaths. as one big ceremony for all the people that died that day. and the sunrises as the arisal of their souls. each and every shade of orange and purple represented a different soul, coming to an end.

growing up, i realised very few deaths are beautiful. the people dying suffer too much, too many hearts are broken along with death, like plates used to break on our balcony, in small, insignificant little pieces.

i remember that day he died. i remember how empty i felt, like no emotions could ever run through me anymore. i wanted to cry, i wanted to remember everything, i wanted to forget, i wanted to be happy his suffering came to an end, but i was blank. numb. nothing. as if it was forbidden to continue any emotion i've ever felt before.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

ramble thoughts.

delete edit
ramble thoughts
you had freckles across your cheeks, i had cracked veins down mine. 
remember our traffic teddy bear? we ripped his left ear so long ago i can’t remember the year. but it was 
spring and we both wanted to play with it. back then, we didn’t get along so we played army. the territory 
we both wanted was the teddy bear. it lost a bit of West. we started hiding most precious things where he’s 
tangled intestines would’ve been. then we grew up. we started hiding packs of cigarettes and lighters, 
passing him from onea nother. then you started hiding more. you had won that territory unfair and kept it 
for yourself. it killed you. 
remember playing battleships on the train? the way people were eating and smoking and we’d just 
play. and you’d cheat and i couldn’t’ve cared less because i had you. it was all i needed back than. then i 
started needing trust and you needed cigarettes. i needed love you needed treatment.i wanted hope you 
wanted death. i never got what i wanted but you, you of all men got death. and it wasn’t even your fault. 
remember playing cards in the bathtub?
remember actually fitting in it?
remember the thousands of flowers we must’ve murdered? you said that when you’d die, you wouldn’t 
want people murdering flowers for you. unaware of your wish, people stopped murdering flowers short after 
you passed away. 
remember that night with the cleArest sky? how we’d count shooting stars and satellites and how we 
saw that meteorite crossing the sky. how you said it was that woman’s soul, the lady in the house across 
the field, who was shot minutes before thAt meteorite flew. maybe you were right. 
somehow, the night you died, i saw a shooting star. a small sparkle of hope up there. for some 
reason, it never finished that arch they make across the dark sky. 
for some reason, i want it to finish it. 
so get out of my kitchen and go greet the angels, they’re dying to meet you and i’m dying to miss 
i love you, until the universe falls apart.


Friday, April 9, 2010


anyone is beautiful in the before-sunset light.

Monday, March 29, 2010

suc de portocale.

simt nevoia sa scriu. in mod normal acest sentiment ar fi inlocuit de cel de a spune cuiva tot. uneori, dupa ce trecem peste faza aparent trecatoare de indiferenta,ne amintim cum era cand ne pasa. cand aveam oameni care tineau la noi si invers. si poate da, erau putini, dar nu conta.
si-o data cu nevoia de-a scrie despre nevoia de a vorbi. vreau sa vorbesc cu cineva. acum doi ani, in timpul unei certi, am auzit o explicatie prea sincera sa nu o citez: 'mindria de om prost'; de cele mai multe ori luam decizii cretine, din cauza mindriei, spre exemplu cea de a fi indiferenti, sau de a nu aborda o persoana pentru ca nu a facut-o el/ea inainte.
voi incerca sa-mi pese. e primavara, ce naiba, primavara e pentru schimbari. (:

Saturday, March 27, 2010

about lurrrrve.

our love couldn't have ended because it never really started.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

perfecțiunea imperfecțiunii.

încă de când eram copil,exista o variantă perfectă a oricărui lucru,oricât de neînsemnat era; lopata perfectă, păpușa perfectă, cabina de la toaleta perfectă. si-apoi erau acele lucruri si mai neinsemnate,la care nu s-ar fi gandit decat o mica parte; camera murdara perfecta,furnica perfecta, placinta de nisip perfecta.
mi-am amintit toate acestea datorita unei poze ce surprinde momentul unic,plin de fericire,atunci cand ridicam galetusa,la iveala iesind castelul aproape perfect,din nisip umed,"mai de la fund". castelele atingeau vag perfectiunea atunci cand reuseai sa iei nisipul alb "de sub arcuri, care era mai fin decat cel alb pe care calcam.
aceasta actiune atat de inutila ne umplea inima de fericire,copii fiind.
cafenelele de acum erau bordura aceea in forma de cerc pe care numai noi stim cu cate feluri de lichide am udat-o,de care ne vom aminti ca locul in care daca te loveai, aveai,fara niciun dubiu,capul spart,chiar daca tu cazusesi pe mana.
si-nchei aici,pana nu moare bateria odata cu interesul celuia care citeste.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

you and me, and a bottle of wine.

it's that awesome feeling you get walking back home, when you could smile ear-to-ear, but you're afraid the pervs are gonna get you.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

si totul e diferit miercurea.

este cinematograful ala care miroase a miercuri.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

transformation of the magical power.

See all those little details just waiting there, nestled in their beds? Well, before you close up shop for the day, those details should be nice and warm. So make sure they're covered.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

"si toate-au fost grozave in acea zi de mai."

pina la urma, cu totii ne multumim cu putin. cred. eu cel putin incerc.
sentimentul de prima ninsoare este aproape acelasi cu prima zi de caldura. acea zi din februarie tirziu, cind dimineata este o lumina calda, cu nori raspinditi si-ti dai seama ca nu e ger afara. ca nu va mai ninge si ca vor aparea ploile din miezul zilei.
acest lucru mi-a infrumusetat ultimele zile. au inceput sa-mi placa vorbele aiurea de dimineata, primele ore.


Tuesday, February 23, 2010

wake me up.

that awkward feeling you get when you realise someone is actually gone.
not necessarily dead, just, out of your life.
that moment when you realise nothing could ever bring them back, at least no the same they were before.
that one moment you realise it, you don't actually feel like crying.
it's just a terrible relief feeling, like something is out of your mind, forever.
but then you realise your mind is sometimes controlled by your heart, and you can't just take someone out of your heart.
you realise no matter what you do, there'll still be those little things that remind you of them instantly, those things that bring up memories to the amnesic persons, those things that makes you smile and cry inside at the same time, the cliché 'your heart is skipping a beat' saying, the knot tied in your stomach, the 'urghhhh get out of my freaking mind' feeling.
well, i get that feeling daily. and i've lost two persons, so double that, with knots. and it feels like crap and i just miss you.

Monday, February 8, 2010

imi place comoditatea.

comoditatea preentei zilnice a dozei de cola de pe primul raft al frigiderului.
comoditatea scaunelor antic de comode.
comoditatea iernii.
comoditatea cresterii unei flori.
comoditatea promotiilor de la chiosc, cit si cea a chioscurilor in sine.
comoditatea dormitului in chiloti.
comoditatea servetelelor ascunse sub perna.
comoditatea fiecarei dintre cele 90 de zile de vara.
comoditatea filmelor vazute pe internet, cit si a celor trase pe dvd, imprumutate.
comoditatea unei oglinzi pe birou.
comoditatea prietenilor la distanta.
comoditatea meditatiilor cu vecini.
comoditatea unui covor curat, implicit zacutul pe acesta pe timp de luna plina.
comoditatea zilelor de vara pe balcon, cu dad, jethro tull si facebook.
comoditatea acelei bancute din fiecare parc, pe care o descoperi doar incercindu-le pe toate.
comoditatea de a avea un telescop si de a nu-l folosi in afara verii.
comoditatea telefoanelor fara clapa.
comoditatea lipsei parolelor, cu siguranta ca nu va fi nevoie de ele.
comoditatea inceputurilor, comoditatea sfirsirii.
comoditatea nepasarii, indiferentei.
comoditatea paturilor chinezesti, cu saltelele puse direct pe jos.
comoditatea spatiului.
comoditatea de a abera, stiind ca maxim doua persoane vor citi mai sus.

Monday, January 25, 2010

it's really dark outside but it's the first time i've seen a sunset in a long time. i coil up near the window and close my eyes. whenever i do that, thousands of thoughts block my mind. i filter the important ones, squeezing them in right before my eyes, so i can imagine it. the steam heater has an unusual relaxing power that makes em thing of winter like i used to, when i was a kid. the itunes has selected an alternative rock radio channel that has quite good music, and then i hear our song. i am more than certain that chris de bourgh has NOTHING to do with alternative rock, but there he is, his voice muttering into the imaginary radio microphone, making my heart skip bits and stomach curl into a fire ball in ways i never thought a song could.
i look up the window and see the moon. it's cheesy and i remember being little and telling mum every once in a while the moon has changed its face. i then found out from my evil realistic brother you can only see one side of the moon, and that's how it's been for thousands of years.
so the moon displays the same face, but it's the first time i've really looked at it in a while. there's something about it that makes me think of the little prince and how he would travel from star to star. someone recently told me each star might be a planet undiscovered, not appreciated like mars or underappreciated like pluto. nothing. there's nothing we know about the sky above us and yet we pretend to have known everything for hundreds of years. that made me sign up to that astronomy class at the astronomy tower, thing my dad was asking me to do since he bought em that telescope. yeah, i have a huge telescope hidden behind the living-room door that i've only used once, when there was a full moon. then a bug landed on the lens and i couldn't see a thing.
i realized now, after reading above, that i swerve from the main subject too easily. i let a thought crumble into millions other and i start losing coherence.
my head aches and i see the paragon, so i end writing here, before i expose my theory about them paragons. oh those paragons.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

azi am prins apusul.

e momentul ala stupid de pe 1 ianuarie, ora 00.01 , sau inceputul de luni, sau intiiul fiecarei luni cind imi zic ca astazi totul va fi cum ar fi trebuit sa fie de mult timp. ca am sa invat din greseli si am sa privesc doar inainte, ca am sa arunc o privre scurta in trecut pentru a-mi reaminti raul sau ca am sa dorm mai putin dimineata. imi doresc sa o iau de la capat, din orice punct de vedere. sa imi pese mai putin , dar totusi mai mult. sa iubesc mai putin, dar totusi mai mult. sa ma schimb incet, icnet, dar totusi observabil.
si la sfarsitul de luni, la 7 dimineata pe 1 ianuarie, si dimineata devreme pe 2 a fiecarei luni, imi dau seama ca nu pot. nu sunt facuta pentru schimbari. urasc schimbarile mai mult decat urasc farurile masinilor. le urasc, si in acelasi timp tinjesc dupa ele.
vreau sa se observe o schimbare, sa se auda un 'hei, nu mai esti tu.' amuzat, sa ma bucur de fiecare clipa.
si nu pot si fumul de trandafiri dispare si am nevoie de cineva cu dragoste de schimbari, care sa ma-mbratiseze cu a lui si-a lor caldura .

Saturday, January 16, 2010

parcul veveriţa .

totul era atît de bine organizat în vară. de la chiloţii puşi cu blugii ăia largi, la filmele văzute, la străduţe.

intirziatul era cu precizie, zîmbetele erau peste măsură, soarele era aproape mereu acolo.

totul era spus, chiar dacă rănea, ieşirile erau dese, furnicile cu-a lor ploaie erau puţine.

răsăriturile erau vizibile la 5 jumate, apusul era greu de văzut, la ora 9.

căldura era mare, apa puţină, metrourile erau pline. miercurile erau în fiecare zi, părul era ud, rochiile erau multe.

terasa din fire era începutul, chestia din cărămidă de jos de la motoare a fost sfîrşitul.

pentru că iar m-a apucat dorul de vară, de începuturi, de simplitate.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

lacul cu nuferi și banca de lîngă metrou. apusul din stația de autobuz,topgun și asfalt. skittles,cărți,căldură. filmele de la ora trei și banca teribilă de lemn unde se fuma. atacul bețigașelor parfumate, poveștile de seară. serile cu lună plină și norii/rahații in formă de inimă. beția cînd aproape am zis prea multe. inepuizabilele glume cu chuck norris și partea drăguță din chop suey fluierată. gresia oribilă, plimbarea în soare de pe kisseleff(?) și vastele tale cunoștințe despre personalitate în funcție de zodie. străduţele pe lângă ambasade şi cum ne alegeam casa în funcţie de balcon. parcul 'veverita', furnici şi ploaia ce-a urmat. cîinele bălos pe care ştiu că nu-l urai şi fostul tău apartament. mersul bare-foot prin ploaie, pe asfalt, praf, căldură. eşarfa gri şi coti cel pe bicicletă. sticla de ouzo cu apă de mare, tricoul maro de la vans şi-mbraţişarea ta cu coate. muşcăturile de mână, skittles, nuferii pe lac.

te-ai schimbat inobservabil, repede, prea mult. şi-aici închei orice gînd legat de tine.