De ce nu ne putem traii niciodata vietile asa cum vrem? Da, sunt fericita cu alegerile mele si le accept consecintele.Dar cand ascult"Little Mo" sau mai stiu eu ce alta melodie nu ma pot oprii sa nu ma gandesc la jocurile din copilaria mea.Nu ma pot oprii sa nu ma gandesc ca am imbatranit inainte sa apuc sa fiu adolescenta, ca toata aceasta prudenta musca din carnea mea,rozand fibra cu fibra...Si carnea creste la loc doar pentru a crea loc pentru alte rani.Da , fac ce vreau eu, dar de fapt, fac doar ceea ce vrea adultul din mine-copilul agonizeaza.Eu nu as sta sa invat pe dinafara interpretarea unui ratat asupra lui Kant, eu as sta pe pervazul ferestrei, fumand si citindu-l pe Mill.Dar eu sunt moarta,asa ca nu mai citesc...Adultul planuieste viata unui mort-cata maturitate!!...
Acum e prea tarziu,ti-au pus deja flori pe mormant...

Credem ca ne construim vise , dar de fapt ne construim doar propriile cavouri,cavourile trairilor noastre, cavouri din carne si oase, firave in calea vantului si a ploii dar de nedoborat dinauntru.

Nu sunt adepta muzicii house si nici nu intentionez sa discut aici despre preferintele mele muzicale.
Ci despre certitudinea unora ca arta(muzica) nu poate fii creata electronic-creatia vine din simtire.Intrebare mea este insa urmatoarea:manelele,care sunt realizate electronic intr-o mai mica masura sunt oare de o calitate superioara muzicii house?Si desi nu ma pot numii experta in domeniu-am fost in cluburi in care se difuza muzica house doar de cateva ori-oare acei dj-ei nu simt totusii ceea ce mixeaza?Si ce combinatie speciala trebuie sa fie intre tehnica si arta,tocmai in aceasta epoca a tehnologizarii vietii dincolo de orice limite anterior cunoscute...
Concluzie:cei ce aveti o problema de acest gen cu muzica house,si nu doar o chestiune de preferinta,ar trebui sa va flagelati ori de cate ori folositi photo-shopul, apratul foto clasic/digital, Microsoft Office-in scopuri artistice sau ori de cate ori cititi carti de literatura tiparite sau cand va impodobiti casa cu "Cina cea de taina" sau "Guernica" sau cand ascultati muzica care nu e live si cu atat mai putin unplugged-Aceea nu e arta, copilasi! :P

[...]Asa e viata...E precum pustoaica aceea cu blugi KVl, maieu MNG , ochelari Escada si ceas Swatch , cu prieten in Vianu, si cu medii cat 1/4 din greutatea ei corporala in kilograme dar care totusi nu rateaza nicio petrecere cu alcool si tigari si mai stie doar ea ce...pentru ca doar ea are voie sa stie...nimeni altcineva nu trebuie sa stie ca mananca o singura data pe zi iar apoi vomita...Da, ar putea fii o norocoasa superficiala dar ar putea fii si o copila cu atatea rani ca nici macar nu le mai tine numarul...iar hainele ei scumpe sunt scoica ei...sau poate nu,poate sunt doar un trup inca frumos , dar mort, golit de sange...

Si tara mea a intrat in UE.Acum avem si noi automate cu sucuri,ciocolatele, paine prajita si chipsuri si avem si noi concerte Muse si Placebo si ne luam casa prin credit cu aceeasi bucata de plastic cu care trecem si granita.Si cine stie ce altceva vom mai putea face cu bucata aceea de plastic, in curand.Poate daca le-ar face, acele bucati de plastic,doar un pic mai subtiri,mai ascutite,as putea ajunge si eu la esenta mea , adevarat mea esenta, singura care m-ar mai putea curata...pura...Si cam asta-i tot ce ne-a adus UE.

Si voi muri.Pentru ca asa e viata...E ca fata al carei iubit munceste 5ani de zile ca sa-i poata lua acesteia o verigheta de aur iar intre timp ea isi gaseste pe altcineva,cineva care sa aiba mai multa vreme sa stea cu ea...Sau ca e-mailul de dragoste pe care il gaseste tanara ce asteapta de 10 de ani ca iubitul ei sa o ceara de sotie, iubitul ei , pe care ea il scuza,ca asa-s baietii,niciodata suficient de pregatiti pentru a fii barbati. Si e-mailul este de la iubitul ei drag. Si nu e pentru ea...

Ce e viata? Nimic altceva decat o cautare perpetua a celuilalt. Nu un sir finit de reusite si esecuri ci o goana ciclica, o disperare spre intregire prin oglindirea in celalalt.

You make one fuckin' wrong decision and everything else in your life changes.And you wake up one morning and wonder just how would it've been if you would've done smth different...

Avril Lavigne->Green Day->SOAD->Metallica->My dying bride.
One way.

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.