Despre identitate
Despre toti cei care or sa rada de copilul matur si batranul copilaros. Or sa rada de mine. Caci intr-o zi din viata unui om oarecare se intampla lucruri de care nu-mi pasa si nu-ti pasa si recunoasteti ca nu va pasa.
E dreptul meu sa imi interoghez identitatea. Si dreptul vostru sa vi se para penibil.
M-am pierdut dupa copaci, printre frunze, nemaivazand padurea. Sunt o suprapunere de ambalaje si fundite rupte, supte, reinnoite.
Voi si cu mine. Spectatorii invizibili ale propriilor noastre morti.
Nu mai caut pe nimeni.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Stralucirea obscena a mintii neprihanite
Scarba gandacului
Strans cu usa, strivit sub tocuri si papuci de plastic. Carapacea pocneste si maruntaiele ies afara. Atentie gandac vomita!
Ma doare in punga de hartie de durerile altora in punga de plastic. Asta e discrepanta dintre manute delicate cu flori uscate in coltul camerei si suptul de seva al sufletului acidifiat in cinism.
Eu cu cine votez?
A fi sau a nu fi?
Oul sau gaina?
Intrebarile marcante ale umanitatii marcate de marci scumpe si marc'o polo.
Dileme si decizii penibile in idiosincrasia mea fata de cetatzeni. Lua-m-ar in deradere si in balon gurile vomitande ale lasilor.
Nu mai am sens. Mi-a fugit sensul dupa o tarfa giratorie. Asa ca ma invart intr-o invartita romaneasca cu batzul in polenta crispatzilor si constipatzilor cu ochii spalaciti in zoaeiele civilizatiei.
De ce radeti ma si taci in coltul gurii? Va e frica sa te doara-n punga de plastic dupa ce s-a rupt punga de hartie?
Eu tac si rad in coltul gurii. Mi-e scarba si mi-e jeg, dar rad si mi-e bine, bagate-as in mine.
Senin si divin. Mi-e bine de atata rau si mi-e rau de atata bine. Razand doar eu cu mine, si domnisoare fine...sau pline..de tine, din nou..in fine..bagate-as in mine.
Ma intorc la laguna albastra.
Asteptati-ma cu nisip intre degetele mari de la picioare si albastrele de nu-ma-uita.
Strans cu usa, strivit sub tocuri si papuci de plastic. Carapacea pocneste si maruntaiele ies afara. Atentie gandac vomita!
Ma doare in punga de hartie de durerile altora in punga de plastic. Asta e discrepanta dintre manute delicate cu flori uscate in coltul camerei si suptul de seva al sufletului acidifiat in cinism.
Eu cu cine votez?
A fi sau a nu fi?
Oul sau gaina?
Intrebarile marcante ale umanitatii marcate de marci scumpe si marc'o polo.
Dileme si decizii penibile in idiosincrasia mea fata de cetatzeni. Lua-m-ar in deradere si in balon gurile vomitande ale lasilor.
Nu mai am sens. Mi-a fugit sensul dupa o tarfa giratorie. Asa ca ma invart intr-o invartita romaneasca cu batzul in polenta crispatzilor si constipatzilor cu ochii spalaciti in zoaeiele civilizatiei.
De ce radeti ma si taci in coltul gurii? Va e frica sa te doara-n punga de plastic dupa ce s-a rupt punga de hartie?
Eu tac si rad in coltul gurii. Mi-e scarba si mi-e jeg, dar rad si mi-e bine, bagate-as in mine.
Senin si divin. Mi-e bine de atata rau si mi-e rau de atata bine. Razand doar eu cu mine, si domnisoare fine...sau pline..de tine, din nou..in fine..bagate-as in mine.
Ma intorc la laguna albastra.
Asteptati-ma cu nisip intre degetele mari de la picioare si albastrele de nu-ma-uita.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
Interogatii introspecte.
.
.
Mainile sus, trage curentul!
Intre cine si cand
Intre tine si vant
A intrat un cuvant
Sub ganduri de bine
Sub valuri meschine
Te-am ascuns de mine
.
.
.
Mainile sus, trage curentul!
Intre cine si cand
Intre tine si vant
A intrat un cuvant
Sub ganduri de bine
Sub valuri meschine
Te-am ascuns de mine
.
.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
What kills you, makes you weaker
That day, That day
What a mess what a marvel
I walked into that cloud again
And I lost myself
And I'm sad, sad, sad
Small, alone, scared
Craving purity
A fragile mind and a gentle spirit
That day, That day,
What a marvelous mess
This is all that I can do
I'm done to be me
Sad, scared, small, alone, beautiful
It's supposed to be like this
I accept everything
It's supposed to be like this
That day, That day
I lay down beside myself
In this feeling of pain, sadness
Scared, small, climbing, crawling
Towards the light
And it's all that I see and
I'm tired and I'm right
And I'm wrong
And it's beautiful
That day, That day
What a mess, what a marvel
We're all the same
But no one thinks so
And it's okay
And I'm small and I'm divine
And it's beautiful
And it's coming
And it's already here
And it's absolutely perfect
That day, That day
When everything was a mess
And everything was in place
And there's too much hurt
Sad, small, scared, alone
And everyone's a cynic
And it's hard and it's sweet
But it's supposed to be like this
That day, That day
When I sat in the sun
And I thought and I cried
Cause I'm sad, scared, small
Alone, strong
And I'm nothing and I'm true
Only a brave man can break through
And it's all okay
Yeah, it's okay
That day, That day
What a mess, what a marveleous mess
We're all the same
But no one thinks so
And it's okay
And I'm small and I'm divine
And it's beautiful
And it's coming
And it's already here
And it's absolutely perfect
So sweet, can you feel it? (Can you feel it?)
Are you here?
Are you with me?
I can feel it
And its beautiful
That day, That day
That day, absolutely perfect
Natalie Imbruglia - That Day
.
What a mess what a marvel
I walked into that cloud again
And I lost myself
And I'm sad, sad, sad
Small, alone, scared
Craving purity
A fragile mind and a gentle spirit
That day, That day,
What a marvelous mess
This is all that I can do
I'm done to be me
Sad, scared, small, alone, beautiful
It's supposed to be like this
I accept everything
It's supposed to be like this
That day, That day
I lay down beside myself
In this feeling of pain, sadness
Scared, small, climbing, crawling
Towards the light
And it's all that I see and
I'm tired and I'm right
And I'm wrong
And it's beautiful
That day, That day
What a mess, what a marvel
We're all the same
But no one thinks so
And it's okay
And I'm small and I'm divine
And it's beautiful
And it's coming
And it's already here
And it's absolutely perfect
That day, That day
When everything was a mess
And everything was in place
And there's too much hurt
Sad, small, scared, alone
And everyone's a cynic
And it's hard and it's sweet
But it's supposed to be like this
That day, That day
When I sat in the sun
And I thought and I cried
Cause I'm sad, scared, small
Alone, strong
And I'm nothing and I'm true
Only a brave man can break through
And it's all okay
Yeah, it's okay
That day, That day
What a mess, what a marveleous mess
We're all the same
But no one thinks so
And it's okay
And I'm small and I'm divine
And it's beautiful
And it's coming
And it's already here
And it's absolutely perfect
So sweet, can you feel it? (Can you feel it?)
Are you here?
Are you with me?
I can feel it
And its beautiful
That day, That day
That day, absolutely perfect
Natalie Imbruglia - That Day
.
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Friday, January 02, 2009
Umilinta si alti demoni
Tarand capul in noroi.
De un picior descult te trag mainile cu degete groase peste bolovani si balti. Unde e demnitatea sufletului de femeie? Unde e siragul de perle si pudra parfumata din alte vremuri?
Cand ai crezut ca ma scapi ai strans mai tare de picior si m-ai tarat prin ciulini.
Asteptand divinitatea intr-o groapa de balegar.
...
De un picior descult te trag mainile cu degete groase peste bolovani si balti. Unde e demnitatea sufletului de femeie? Unde e siragul de perle si pudra parfumata din alte vremuri?
Cand ai crezut ca ma scapi ai strans mai tare de picior si m-ai tarat prin ciulini.
Asteptand divinitatea intr-o groapa de balegar.
...
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Titlu
E gol.
De acolo de unde izvorau cuvintele din taste parca nu mai curge nimic. Nu stiu cand a secat totul. Si nici de ce.
Au trecut pe langa mine clipe. Iar eu am trecut prin ele. Si n-a curs nimic. Nici un strop de cerneala nu a mai vrut sa mazgaleasca hartia. A fost mai mult anul trairii decat anul marturisirii. Mi-e mila de timpul nepunctat. L-am lasat prada unei memorii subiective si inselatoare.
E amuzant privind in urma scrijelitul de ganduri si idei. E caraghios. Nimic nu mai merita scris. E altcineva aici. E blogul altcuiva. Sunt altcineva.
E pur si simplu gol.
De acolo de unde izvorau cuvintele din taste parca nu mai curge nimic. Nu stiu cand a secat totul. Si nici de ce.
Au trecut pe langa mine clipe. Iar eu am trecut prin ele. Si n-a curs nimic. Nici un strop de cerneala nu a mai vrut sa mazgaleasca hartia. A fost mai mult anul trairii decat anul marturisirii. Mi-e mila de timpul nepunctat. L-am lasat prada unei memorii subiective si inselatoare.
E amuzant privind in urma scrijelitul de ganduri si idei. E caraghios. Nimic nu mai merita scris. E altcineva aici. E blogul altcuiva. Sunt altcineva.
E pur si simplu gol.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Return
Just because I'm losing
Doesn't mean I'm lost
Doesn't mean I'll stop
Doesn't mean I'm across
Just because I'm hurting
Doesn't mean I'm hurt
Doesn't mean I didn't get what I deserve
No better and no worse
I just got lost
Every river that I've tried to cross
And every door I ever tried was locked
Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off...
You might be a big fish
In a little pond
Doesn't mean you've won
'Cause along may come
A bigger one
And you'll be lost
Every river that you try to cross
Every gun you ever held went off
Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the firing stops
Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off
Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off...
Doesn't mean I'm lost
Doesn't mean I'll stop
Doesn't mean I'm across
Just because I'm hurting
Doesn't mean I'm hurt
Doesn't mean I didn't get what I deserve
No better and no worse
I just got lost
Every river that I've tried to cross
And every door I ever tried was locked
Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off...
You might be a big fish
In a little pond
Doesn't mean you've won
'Cause along may come
A bigger one
And you'll be lost
Every river that you try to cross
Every gun you ever held went off
Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the firing stops
Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off
Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off...
Friday, November 14, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
place for self
Schloss Freudenberg – unfurling the mind and senses
Pass more often
through woods
than through books,
trees and stones
teach you what masters cannot.
-Bernard von Clairvaix,1090-1153
The path to Schloss Freudenberg is unexpectedly modest; patchy asphalt is bordered by wooden stakes and exposed wiring. Narrow wooden plank stairs rest on what were once steps, stretching almost across the entire width of the building, but are now covered with tar sheeting. Uneven parquet floors creak underfoot.Unknowingly, visitors have already begun their journey through Schloss Freudenberg's "Field of Experience towards the Unfurling of the Senses and Thoughts". Here you can explore "how the eye sees, the ear hears, the nose smells, the skin senses, the fingers touch, the feet (under)stand, the hands (be)hold, the brain thinks, the lungs breathe, the blood pulsates, [and] the body vibrates".
Huge black and white and colorful discs rotate on the walls, creating dynamic images; a maze in the complete darkness rises and falls; steel bells are suspended from a ceiling, their clappers almost reaching the floor; metal plates on thin stems emerging out of a sand floor can be played with cello bows, creating music and tone paintings. Outdoors on the 16 hectare grounds, an Aeolian harp (named after the Greek god of wind, these harps are 'played' by the wind) graces a hillside next to a stone labyrinth; a barefoot-path made of smooth pebbles, bricks, stones, wood, and other materials snakes through a section of forest past a humming hole; the playground is flanked by mounds of carefully assembled logs and ropes; there are stilts, balancing discs, and a giant set of duet swings.
Schloss Freudenberg's cafe offers a range of refreshments and desserts made at Mechtildehausen's bakery, a local organic and communal farm. Perhaps the most unusual eating experience, however, is at 'The Dark Bar' (Der Dunkelbar). Through heavy black floor-to-ceiling curtains, visitors enter complete darkness. Friendly bartenders put nervous customers at ease by asking them to follow the sounds of their voices, left, right, feel for the barstools. Orders are filled and customers reach hands out towards glasses or plates that are gently tapped on the counter. Food and drink is savored while bodies finally begin to relax after repeatedly straining to see. Ears perk up to identify the multitude of sounds, clinking forks, giggling, footsteps, and throats cleared, which would normally be perceived as white noise. In recent years, Schloss Freudenberg's success has inspired others to create Dark Bars in Berlin, Koeln, Hamburg, Nürnberg, and Zurich.
Pass more often
through woods
than through books,
trees and stones
teach you what masters cannot.
-Bernard von Clairvaix,1090-1153
The path to Schloss Freudenberg is unexpectedly modest; patchy asphalt is bordered by wooden stakes and exposed wiring. Narrow wooden plank stairs rest on what were once steps, stretching almost across the entire width of the building, but are now covered with tar sheeting. Uneven parquet floors creak underfoot.Unknowingly, visitors have already begun their journey through Schloss Freudenberg's "Field of Experience towards the Unfurling of the Senses and Thoughts". Here you can explore "how the eye sees, the ear hears, the nose smells, the skin senses, the fingers touch, the feet (under)stand, the hands (be)hold, the brain thinks, the lungs breathe, the blood pulsates, [and] the body vibrates".
Huge black and white and colorful discs rotate on the walls, creating dynamic images; a maze in the complete darkness rises and falls; steel bells are suspended from a ceiling, their clappers almost reaching the floor; metal plates on thin stems emerging out of a sand floor can be played with cello bows, creating music and tone paintings. Outdoors on the 16 hectare grounds, an Aeolian harp (named after the Greek god of wind, these harps are 'played' by the wind) graces a hillside next to a stone labyrinth; a barefoot-path made of smooth pebbles, bricks, stones, wood, and other materials snakes through a section of forest past a humming hole; the playground is flanked by mounds of carefully assembled logs and ropes; there are stilts, balancing discs, and a giant set of duet swings.
Schloss Freudenberg's cafe offers a range of refreshments and desserts made at Mechtildehausen's bakery, a local organic and communal farm. Perhaps the most unusual eating experience, however, is at 'The Dark Bar' (Der Dunkelbar). Through heavy black floor-to-ceiling curtains, visitors enter complete darkness. Friendly bartenders put nervous customers at ease by asking them to follow the sounds of their voices, left, right, feel for the barstools. Orders are filled and customers reach hands out towards glasses or plates that are gently tapped on the counter. Food and drink is savored while bodies finally begin to relax after repeatedly straining to see. Ears perk up to identify the multitude of sounds, clinking forks, giggling, footsteps, and throats cleared, which would normally be perceived as white noise. In recent years, Schloss Freudenberg's success has inspired others to create Dark Bars in Berlin, Koeln, Hamburg, Nürnberg, and Zurich.
Monday, September 08, 2008
pe scari, pas cu pas
Diferit nu inseamana mai bine, neobisnuit nu inseamna mai rau. Este doar o bucata de viata neexplorata si neexploatata. Boom-ul informational e lipit cu nitroglicerina. Creierul sta sa explodeze.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Proiectii...
Hello
Can you hear me?
Am I gettin' through to you?
Hello
Is it late there?
There's a laughter on the line
Are you sure you're there alone?
Cause I'm
Tryin' to explain
Somethin's wrong
Ya just don't sound the same
Why don't you
Go outside
Kiss the rain
Whenever you need me
Kiss the rain
Whenever I'm gone, too long.
If your lips
Feel lonely and thirsty
Kiss the rain
And wait for the dawn.
Keep in mind
We're under the same sky
And the nights
As empty for me, as for you
If ya feel
You can't wait till morinin'
Kiss the rain
Hello
Do you miss me?
I hear you say you do
But not the way I'm missin' you
What's new?
How's the weather?
Is it stormy where you are?
Cause I'm so close but it feels like you're so far
Oh would it mean anything
If you knew
What I'm left imagining
In my mind
Would you go
Kiss the rain
And you'd fall over me
Think of me
Only me
Kiss the rain
Whenever I'm gone too long
If your lips
Feel lonely and thirsty
Kiss the rain
and wait for the dawn
Keep in mind
We're under the same skies
And the nights
As empty for me, as for you
If you feel
You can't wait till morning
Kiss the rain
Oooooohhhhh
Kiss the rain
Oooooohhhhh
Kiss the rain
Hello
Can ya hear me?
Can you hear me?
Am I gettin' through to you?
Hello
Is it late there?
There's a laughter on the line
Are you sure you're there alone?
Cause I'm
Tryin' to explain
Somethin's wrong
Ya just don't sound the same
Why don't you
Go outside
Kiss the rain
Whenever you need me
Kiss the rain
Whenever I'm gone, too long.
If your lips
Feel lonely and thirsty
Kiss the rain
And wait for the dawn.
Keep in mind
We're under the same sky
And the nights
As empty for me, as for you
If ya feel
You can't wait till morinin'
Kiss the rain
Hello
Do you miss me?
I hear you say you do
But not the way I'm missin' you
What's new?
How's the weather?
Is it stormy where you are?
Cause I'm so close but it feels like you're so far
Oh would it mean anything
If you knew
What I'm left imagining
In my mind
Would you go
Kiss the rain
And you'd fall over me
Think of me
Only me
Kiss the rain
Whenever I'm gone too long
If your lips
Feel lonely and thirsty
Kiss the rain
and wait for the dawn
Keep in mind
We're under the same skies
And the nights
As empty for me, as for you
If you feel
You can't wait till morning
Kiss the rain
Oooooohhhhh
Kiss the rain
Oooooohhhhh
Kiss the rain
Hello
Can ya hear me?
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Sunday, August 03, 2008
perpetuum mobile...
Cu secundele curgand in jos pe geam, una dupa cealalta, urmarindu-se si unindu-se alert, ea calca pedala acceleratiei mai tare. E ciudat sa fugi exact inspre partea opusa vocii din suflet. Oricum doare. Oriunde. Bratele sunt goale si atarna vinovate, buza de jos tremura rasfranta si singura, ochii privesc in gol..fara ecoul celorlalti.
Si secundele incep sa curga mai lent, intr-o pelicula cu scene in relanti. Apasator si lenes rasare soarele degeaba, departe...
Friday, August 01, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
White picket fence
A fost odata un timp: dupa ce procesul de demolare a copilariei avusese loc, cand toate se demitizau treptat si samburele de luciditate (deci drama) se sadise deja... a fost un timp in care mintea mea, bombardata de revelatii despre lume si sine, a crezut ca se pot totusi depasi conditia, destinul si limitarile de specie si sex. Credeam ca din inaltul mormanului de informatie care crestea sub mine ametitor de repede o sa pot privi in jos catre cele lumesti fara sa trebuiasca sa ma balacesc in baltoaca de nevoi, dorinte sau vise asa de mici, simple si omenesti. Ma gandeam ca daca pot constientiza hilaritatea luptei cotidiene pentru lucruri asa de meschine in materialismul lor, o sa pot sa lupt si eu contra curentului pentru 'lucruri inaltatoare care conteaza cu adevarat'. Daca realizam ca dintr-o impletire de feromoni, circumstante, putin Freud si multa indoctrinare sociala se naste 'iubirea', ma gandeam ca nu mai pot sa cred in povestile cu feti-frumosi. Incercam sa privesc cinic si realist, chiar daca stiam ca femeile filtreaza totul printr-o sita emotionala. Speram ca daca stiu asta o sa pot da jos filtrul, pacalind femininul din mine. Incercam sa inlatur orice urma de banalitate si cliseu.
M-am trezit insa dorindu-mi adanc si total tot ceea ce mi se parea mult prea depasit de logica, mult prea primar si comun. M-am regasit iubind fara ratiune, doborata de emotii, pacalita de povesti cu ilene cosanzene. M-am surprins cu vise pe cat de banale, pe atat de frumoase: rochie alba, copii bucalati si barbat cu testosteron. Am realizat ca gresesc chiar daca stiu ce e gresit... Ca sunt totusi cat se poate de femeie, de instinctuala si de emotionala... Ca desi totul e haos, viata nu are sens si imi scrantesc gandurile in filozofii complicate, cel mai miraculos lucru ar fi sa poti creea la randul tau o noua viata plangareata si gangurinda.
Recunosc ca sunt ceea ce sunt. I'm lovin' it.
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