I was so happy to get in this "here"...doesn't really matter what"here" is , or where it is....but the truth is that I did my best to get in here and I was really stressed out that I might not get here.And I can't deny that I had my share of good moments in here;I met some really good friends and nice things happened to me during my stay in here...but now I want out...and I keep telling myself that I got here by my own free choice and how much I used to love this "here"place and I feel guilty for my thoughts but I can't help myself-I'm so sick of all these people and of all these small things that used to amuse me and so sick of the so called "system"...I miss myself,I miss them,but it's wrong...
Bogdan said:"People create an image of you and use it as a label for everything you do afterwards.But when something changes in you , and you step somewhere , anywhere , outside the path they thought you were supposed to follow , their reaction is due to be of complete sincere surprise-"You've disappointed us!".That doesn't necessarily mean you've done something wrong , it just means you've done something that doesn't correspond to their image on you , something that "just isn't like you".
I guess that's just what I've done-had some expectations , created a label and waited for the "here"concept to just fit the profile.

Te uiti la ei si toti sunt la fel:adormiti,nemultumiti , nesatisfacuti , nesatui.Si nici-unul dintre ei nu mai crede.S-au plictisit. Iar printre ei mai trece cate unul zambind.Cate unul care spera.Cate un nebun.Si toti il privesc amuzati si enervati.Indignati.
Si ce daca sunt nebuna?!Daca asa m-a facut mama....mai labila , mai fragila , mai frivola , mai copil speriat de copilarie....

Although , as a child ,one of my biggest dreams was actually to grow up , now , as I'm finding myself on the edge of leaving childhood , I freak out.It's not that I don't want to grow up....It's just that ....that I don't want to grow up.I'm scared.Really scared.It took me a lot of time to understand how to be a hassled teenager and it took so much energy out of me to actually become that teen,that now, when I finally can get away from this fake me ...I just don't know how to be me anymore. I don't know who else I could be ,but that hassled teen.I don't know how to act , how to speak , how to look , how to dress , how to think......I'm lost....It's as if I've dressed this shirt that didn't fit me at first ,but now,since I've gained weight , I can't take it off anymore.It's stuck.....and it fits me to well to just cut myself loose, now....

Ever noticed just how this two words match together
EDIT<----->DIET
???

As if when you're on a diet , you're actually doing nothing more than just editing yourself...

For my blonde-haired girlfriend

Remember how in a previous post I was mentioning a confused she.Well , in the meanwhile , she decided to take her chances and go with the flow . Furthermore,at the moment , she is gambling. And at the same time,wondering if she's gonna win or not.From where I stand,yet,I believe she finds herself in a win-win situation.And the outcome,after all,only depends on how she is going to manage things , them , life itself.

Nu din rusine nu spui celorlalti ce anume te doare.Ci doar pentru ca nu are rost.Oricum nu ii doare pe ei ci doar pe tine.Durerea se naste in tine si moare in tine.Tu esti calusul ei , cusca ei,cufarul ei.Iar apoi ei se mira ca un copil aici , un altul acolo s-au sinucis...Privesc goi catre asfalt si clatina din cap si cersesc mila pentru ca nu pot intelege.Dar durerea ta e doar a ta si se aduna si te umple si te macina, te sfarama....Si trebuie sa fie asa , pentru ca daca ai impartasi-o,ai pierde si acea ultima farama de control.Durerea incatusata de tine , este controlata de tine , este a ta .In momentul in care rabufneste , ea a preluat deja controlul...ea a fost mai puternica decat tine , ea a invins in tot circul acesta meschin,numit,ironic, ViAtA.

Tinerii de azi nu mai stiu sa asculte muzica din ei. Nu ma intelegeti gresit:ii ador pe copiii aceia-ele , in blugi bleumarin largi , tricouri negre , esarfe in dungi in culori tipatoare , tunse scurt ,asimetric sau cu parul foarte foarte lung iar ei ,cu tricouri noncomformiste , in dungi sau cu mesaje de genul "Zero or die"(anita , deci nu incepe sa comentezi doar pentru ca ti-ai dat seama despre cine vorbesc , stii doar ca iubim amndoua tricourile acelea)Revenind.Vorbeam,deci ,de pustii rebeli , cu castile iPodului/MP3playerului atarnate peste tricou(ce vremuri cu walkman sau cdplayer :))))))s-au dus....)si care merg pe strada ,desprinsi de lumea acesta , din care ei oricum nu mai faceau parte de nici-ei-nu-mai-stiu-cand, inchisi in lumea lor imateriala , care in mod derutant , capata contururi , devine palpabila tocmai printr-un element imaterial al vietii ,muzica.

Inchei,

porcelaindoll.

I have a friend of whom I am pretty fond.And this is who we are going to talk about today.And her name in this post wil be...she...
I've discovered I'm a much more free-spirited girl than she is. That meaning that while she is afraid of starting it all over again , of repeating yesterday in the ways of tomorrow , I believe that life means to taste every flower that might blossom in your way.So , she refuses to taste once again yesterdays flavor , no matter how many flowers would've dried up inside of her , no matter how many flowers would've blossomed inside of her , no matter just how different the one whose sap gives the flavor of today is than the one who gave the flavor of yesterday.I , myself , on the other hand , I would taste each and every apple in this damn world , going from temptation , to damnation and rebirth over and over again if I would know for sure that an apple is sweeter than another one. It's just that I know that that isn't true , since all apples are just the same-they have a sweet side and a bitter one. It's only that a few apples are a little closer to perfection or to disaster than others are.

Some time ago , I've seen this movie , where one She had to choose between two of He:one of them was wonderful(that is ,of course , just my opinion)while the other one was a little more of a rebel , a little more of a child , a little more of an artist(and , I would say , with a smaller fortune , as well ;) ).And the first one told her these particular words:'It can't always be as it was in the beginning , darling.I love you , but I won't poor roses on your path for the rest of my life.We won't have dinner surrounded by lighted candles every evening , I won't bring you breakfast in bed every morning and we won't sleep holding each other every night .We'll have our disagreements and I'm not gonna say 'I'm sorry' on my newspaper's front page.Damn it , I'm not gonna pay court to you in every day of our lives.Yet , I love you and if you stick with me , I'll be loving you for ever and besides , we both know you want to stick with me , since you love me just as much as I love you.' It isn't relevant who She ended up with , but this thing that the two of us both have in common-the constant need of being impressed....

Few things show us apart from the ordinary animals(anorexia , bulimia , perversion , sexual abstinence , the logical judgement , homosexuality , abortion , research , drug addiction , eroticism , art(creation and performing) , witchcraft )and , yet , it seems to me that in particular exactly those things are the ones to stay misunderstood and blamed by the so called society.
And that is because of the fact that most of this society is made out of those small people who just won't surpass their condition and so they can't actually accept to have as a leader someone better than them.Thus they need to put the rest of the people in this bed of Procust called"ethics" .
Have you ever noticed that we fear differently from the murders , the thieves or those capable
of abandoning their own children but from those illustrated by the words in red?No one rushes into posting messages against those I've mentioned second on the walls of my/your hometown , no one writes articles against them , no one starts campaigns and marsh protests against them .
No one fears that we could become a society of murders , thieves , adulterants , and people capable of abandoning or even raping or killing their children or parents but it seems that everyone is afraid that anorexics , perverts , true artists or people who feed themselves with culture and intellectual hard-working could at one point get to lead them.

I take it back. Some time ago , people seemed to me like heavy drops of milk , floating in an ocean of hot n'cold oil.Today yet , I'm awake.Definitely awake.The people of these mornings are ordinary people:colored people , with scowling faces , determined to fit in the overcrowded vehicles.I'm not saying that not all of us are allowed to get where they need/want to but wouldn't it be much easier if we all weighted with at least 20kilos less than our height in meters??
So , if you're 1.60 and you weight around 80kilos , stop making threats , don't push us around , don't press me like an unwritten piece of paper anymore and better yet give up on the vehicles and try walking to the place where you wanna get.
Perhaps this way you'll even get to lose a few pounds ;)


(.....aNa.....Where are you , my dear precious aNa??.....)

De ce dormim atat de mult?!Ne irosim vietile dormind si mancand ...Mai ales atunci cand somnul e un calvar al pustietatii si dorintei iar hrana are consecinte atat de dureroase.
Tragic ,nu?

answer to http://suicidal-tendency.net/2007/01/18/5-dark-secrets/ :Dude, I have no dark secrets and trust me ,even if I would've had such a thing I wouldn't have shared it with anyone at all.

Dimineata.O ora plutind de la pat la baie.Alte trei petrecute incercand sa te zaresti prin acea ceata mirositoare a levantica ,in oglinda.Ciorapi din lycra,sutien de matase.Apa.Paine cu dulceata , croissant cu unt , cereale.Apa.Oja rosie , tocuri cui.Si apoi o mare de oameni.Oameni fazi,dezbracati ,cu fete imbibate cu somn ,mirosind a asternuturi calde si a vise uitate -alearga , se imping , cad , se ridica , alearga...Si iar!...tacere...Alunec pe fularul gri al asfaltului si cerul verde se inchide peste mine.Plutesc...Cotesc...Rad...Nervi...Si rad.
Gata.

Cusca in care esti inchis poate oricand sa devina cheia ce iti reda libertatea.E alegerea ta.

5 MOTVE PTR CARE SA PREFERI O CHITARA UNEI FEMEI
1.O chitara la care a cantat Satriani sau alti chitaristi celebri e o chitara de colectie pe cand o femeie care a fost cu alti barbati e doar o alta c****.
2.Cu o chitara , orica de scumpa ar fi aceasta , nu cheltui intr-o viata de om mai mult de 2000euro.Cu o femeie , in 70 ani , cheltui cel putin 2000000euro.
3.O chitara isi va pastra mereu formele frumoase si calitatea de a fii placuta la atingere in timp ce o femeie se ingrasa sau este obsedata de slabire si pe deasupra mai si imbatraneste.
4.Chitarile nu vorbesc;nici nu fac zgomot daca nu le faci tu sa faca...(special ptr frati-miu si Serban depasesc limita misoginismului si ajung la tenta sexuala-femeile ,chiar daca nu le pui tu si tot isi pot gasii ceva sau cineva care sa le"-o"puna).
5.O chitara nu are pretentii de la tine si nu este geloasa,nu te critica si nu te cicaleste cu privire la locurile unde ai fost , capacul de la wc , persoanele cu care te-ai intalnit , banii pe care i-ai cheltuit fara ea , etc.


Multumesc ptr ajutor lui Mr.FuzzMz aka Serban

Cand ne gandim la trecut , cel mai adesea ne amintim umilintele , spaimele , durerile si prea rar rasetele sau macar clipele pentru care acum suradem . De ce nu putem inmuia un burete in apa amestecata cu detergent cu parfum de levantica si apoi sa stergem cu el tot ceea ce ne-a ranit vreodata? Oare chiar ne ajuta la ceva acest cufar deschis , plin cu plagi infectate , bandaje imbuibate cu sange si puroi , dar mai ales cu ura , cicatrici , vanatai...?...Chiar avem nevoie de noptile nedormite , de orele pierdute in rememorarea a ceea ce ne-a durut ?! Eu personal m-am gasit in urma cu cateva luni la fel de naiva ca si acum cativa ani.Surprinsa si dezamagita am aflat ca experienta nu ne face mai intelepti.Si atunci pentru ce trebuie , dom'le , ca pentru toate ranile pentru care am suferit candva , sa suferim din nou si din nou si....

Tot asa se spune si ca cerul senin e superb.Dar nu cerul senin e superb , ci cerul privit din tren , cerul spart de un munte , cerul de deasupra unui bloc cenusiu , cerul privit din spatele unor gratii , cerul in care se rup valurile marii , cerul privit printe frunze....
Si asta pentru ca cerul este imaginea libertatii.Iar libertatea este singurul concept care ne mai uneste , singurul vis pe care il mai avem cu totii .O utopie dulce....caci in final , ramanem doar sclavi ai acestei lumi si apoi murim.

Prin clasa a treia , o colega imi povestea cat de mult ii placea ei pe atunci de un anume"mishu", prezentator de la televiziune.Ajunsa acasa , i-am zis si eu mamei de febletea colegei mele.Zambitoare ,mama m-a intrebat-"Dar tie de care baiat iti place?"
Eu i-am raspuns"De nici-unul mama...Mie imi place de actrita aia frumoasa , aia,mama , aia care.....

De azi voi fii doar cine vreau eu sa fiu.Fara compromisuri.Ma voi iubi si voi iubi .Voi rade si voi tacea .N-am sa dau explicatii si nu am sa imi cer scuze daca nu voi vrea.

Si , da , STIU , ca sunt perfecta.

Mine , the world's , but only belonging to the snow ,

the porcelain doll .

FANTEZIE

Vreau sa sarutam luna...Vreau sa ne invelim cu noaptea.Vreau sa fugim razand pe stradute ce se ingusteaza pe masura ce se apropie de capat,stradute dantelate cu stalpi facuti din licurici.Vreau sa mintim copacii auriti in noapte , ca suntem cuminti.Vreau sa ne imbratisam cand ne julim genunchi si sa ne sarutam cand ni se vindeca ranile.Vreau sa imbatam marea.Vreau sa gadilam vantul.Vreau sa adormim pe nisip.Vreau sa ne trezim imbratisati.Vreau sa ascultam chitara din urma ,sa bem vin alb ca pe apa si apa ca pe vin...
Asta vreau caci pana la urma , fericirea nu se cumpara in rate.

Bun-venit in raiul baltilor!

O balta este o groapa neastupata de nimic altceva decat de apa ploii(sau cea a tevilor ce se sparg macar trimestrial).Baltile sufera atunci cand oamenii refuza sa le inteleaga si le astupa cu ciment si de aceea , autoritatile, vrand sa ne arate ce suflet curat au , nu se apropie de aceste balti.Sufletul edililor de un alb imaculat(curatat pesemne , tot intr-una din aceste balti)nu se mai lasa insa impresionat de sarmanele lacuri de agrement de pe soselele si stradutele bucurestene(nu am calatorit prea mult prin tara)atunci cand fie sunt dati in judecata de acei soferi nesuferiti ce nu sunt in stare sa graviteze , fie au parte de cate o coloana oficiala.
Eu insa locuiesc intr-un cartier marginas , ce-i drept , destul de dragut , insa cu cam mult zgomot(vb alta data despre acest mic incovenient) , cam multi drogati si mai ales fara coloane oficiale sau soferi ce nu sunt obisnuiti cu soseaua sau aleile noastre.Si astazi , cand am iesit si eu din casa , am dat de ceva superb , ceva ce m-a atins profund , am dat de un RAI AL BALTILOR. Pe primele le ocolesti , ptr ca oricat de mult le-ai placea ,ai facut totusi baie acasa. Mai faci insa cativa pasi si dai de unele care se intind de pe un trotuar , pe straduta , pe celalalta trotuar, pe urmatoarea straduta si se opresc undeva pe aleea unui bloc aproape de intrarea in bloc. Pasesti tandru pe apa , in varful incaltamintii. Si te trezesti in fata uneia care se crede Marea Neagra , si care te implora cu valuri negre:"Inoata-ma!Inoata-ma , te rog , inoata-ma!"Si copacul care atarna deasupra ei te priveste rautacios si iti sopteste printre frunze "Daca te urci pe mine ca sa ii ranesti ei sentimentele ...." Deci nu mai ai alta optiune ;iti continui drumul printre( a se citi "prin") balti ,spre unde trebuia sa ajungi si acolo(la paine , la lapte ,la ziare , sau poate chiar la fast food-ul unde lucrezi- un avocat are masina personala) te intrebi daca chiar a meritat osteneala, pardon , daca ai meritat onoarea de a traversa atatea balti...Obosit te intorci acasa. Daca ai noroc , ai stat destul acolo unde ai fost , si acum soarele a readus deja baltile la nivelul de gropi.Daca nu , gandeste-te ca oricum sa mergi la mare e prea scump;)
Cu dragoste ptr voi toti(in special ptr autoritatile care oricum nu vor citi acest blog),o papusa de portelan ceva mai inamolita decat azi-dimineata.