Mithril Mines

Rosé Cabernet

2011-05-05T06:25:00.000-07:00

by Kork & Arwen

Ce răcoroasă-mprăştiere, ce taninos dezastru,
A mia oară, în mii de clipe mă întind,
Să picur rouă, neted şi sihastru.
De cupa-ţi rece mă desprind.

Mă guşti şi-ţi spun de lumea-ntreagă,
De vieţi trăite-n vis, cu har,
Şi sub privirea-ţi, cu arome pline,
Cobor şi mă ridic, în dar.

Pro-Cabernet

In samburi aromati de mure,
mi te inchizi in gusturi fine
si-apoi desfaci in picuri dure
istorii vechi din lente rime.

De cai si cavaleri ce-odata,
cu numele si-onoarea lor,
au aparat imparatia cufundata
in bezna deziluziilor.

Mai sorb din cupa amaruie-seaca,
privind far` de speranta-n vis
la ore ce in timp se-mpaca
in valuri seci de paradis.

Din umbre Cezari mi se-arata,
purtandu-si sclavii gali in urma,
intrand in Roma re-nviata
de vin in valuri peste plebea-turma.

Ridic doar ochii din cristaluri,
ca sa zaresc pe margini dure,
un strugure si ganduri tulburi,
ce mintile vor ca sa-ti fure.

Sa nu mai vezi dragonul care,
pierdut departe in trecuturi,
si-a innecat a lui onoare-n
contemporane imprumuturi.

Mai sorb si sorb din nou din paharul plin,
caci doar prezentul il zaresc in fata.
Pana si Bahus se trezeste in venin,
In crudul adevar al prezentului-paiata.

Stelara

2011-04-20T17:43:00.000-07:00

by Kork & Arwen

Atât de însorit…
Lumina-mi rece.
Şi raza-mi transparentă a albit.
Şi nimeni nu îşi mai fereşte ochii
De-a mea privire:
Fereastră nu-i, căci sufletul e ponosit.

Şi dacă-ar fi chiar totul
Presărat cu stele,
Nici una nu m-ar recunoaşte,
legat aici, cu ale tale
Trei inele
călite-n aştri de candele.

Şi iată-mă ajuns,
Un soare gol de patimă,
de gânduri pe ascuns,
de fiecare umbră creată pe pământ,
O clopoţire scurtă,
În tonuri de mormânt.

Doar urmele-mi desculţe mai măsoară,
Din când în când,
Al galaxiei diametru,
Şi văd de-atâtea ori că nu e,
De străbătut,
Mai mult de-un metru.

Lumina-ti este rece,
pierduta printre ani,
contururi iti petrece,
pe chipul stelei clare,
ce-n farmec de sultani
iti canta-n vers tiran.

De maine dimineata
rasari tu, soare-n-frunze!
Ridica-te din ceata
si da-mi lumina dulce,
c-asa te stiu din panze,
pictate peste ani.

Reda-mi lumina calda
a cerului de vara,
or amintirea dalba
din stratul de zapada.
Da-mi flori de primvara
timid cuprinse in lentila-ti clara.

Si timpul ti-e aproape,
iar metrul ti-este sfetnic,
la ceas tarziu in noapte.
Nu-ti mai feri privirea
de ce te inconjoara,
ci infloreste-ti firea.

Nimic din ce exista,
ce-a fost sau ce va fi,
nu-ti va fi sters pasii.
Desi, cu mina trista
si lacrimi din batista,
iti numara ocnasii.

Un intelept, odata,
a spus in versul sau,
ca tot frumosul vesel
sau trist in apogeu,
va dainui in veacuri,
peren, ca Dumnezeu.

(“So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.” – Sonet 18 – William Shakespeare)

Antică

2011-04-18T13:20:00.000-07:00

by Kork & Arwen

Rupestră-mi floarea sufletului.
De pânză, vîntu-n zori.
Bizonul rece-al peretelui de stâncă,
Aflatu-l-am pe patu-mi de fiori.

Cu sunet lin, de apă dintr-o luncă,
Ce susură într-una-n ritm divin,
Mă-mpunge el în pieptu-mi gol de suflu
Ca să-mi atingă inima ascunsă-n iz de crin.

Dormit-am eu aici de multa vreme?
Sau doar am atipit atat cat sa mai cresc doi crini?
Si-am tot visat dulci soapte-n adieri perene,
Dar ochii i-am deschis intre ciulini.

Acum sunt singur, eu si campul sur,
Ce primavara cruda o asteapta printre cruci.
Si-apoi sa vina vara calda-n lanuri fara de cusur,
Sa-mi zugraveasca amintiri amare-n cuib de cuci.

Luna nebuna

2011-03-29T17:50:00.000-07:00

Buna noapte luna rotunda si pala,
Impletita in faneata,
Cosita-n dimineata
De rugi si nevoi,
Afisate cu fala.

Te-am vazut mai deunazi prin vise,
Semeata si calda,
In rochie dalba,
Cu voaluri senine
De stele deschise.

Ti-am soptit printre randuri dorinte,
Ce-am fost si ce sunt,
Acum, pe pamant
De tine tesut,
Borangic de fiinte.

Si numai de-ar sti ei, tu, luna,
Sa arda amoruri,
In patimi si doruri
Lasate-n trecut.
Tu, luna nebuna!

Anticrez

2011-03-25T11:06:00.000-07:00

Cum soarele-apune in nori de zapada,
Dar stii ca-i acolo, ascuns, caci il vezi,
Asa ti-e cuvantul ascuns in corvoada
De albe iluzii-nvelite-n amiezi.

De-am tras precum robul de dulci sentimente
Si-am dus pe spinare poveri si noroi,
Crezand in ostirea iubirii stridente,
De astazi m-acopar cu real si puroi.

Si n-am sa mai cant in vise si strune,
Pierdute-n iluzii si lungi utopii,
Caci ele-s pierdute in ere strabune,
Cu cai si dragoni si zane-n campii.

Buna dimineata

2011-02-20T04:24:00.000-08:00

Buna dimineata, zi mincinoasa,
cu patimi ascunse-n desisuri de-amor,
cu-orgoliu ranit de absurde depresii,
cu scuze perfide ascunse-n fiori.

Buna dimineata, zi ipocrita,
prea-plina, prea aspra,prea dura, prea rea.
Ti-e dor sau ti-a fost doar azinoapte,
De-ti joci mantuirea ascuns de-o perdea?

Buna ziua, nu stiu cum sa-ti spun!
Nu c-ar conta-n acest sfarsit de drum.
Aleg sa m-ascund de-al tau muced scrum.
Aleg sa respir adevar incomod, nu lacrimi si fum!

Rapsodia tristilor

2011-01-20T01:03:00.000-08:00

Au cazut de dimineata,
Peste ganduri mucede,
Lacrimile reci din ceata
Cu catuse rancede.

Si copacii se apleaca
Sub povara gandului,
Ca trecutul se imbraca
In straiul absurdului.

Gandurile vin precare,
Cu iubiri de-o noapte,
Fara pic de alinare,
Fara miere-n soapte.

Noptile mi-aduc pieirea
Inimii si-a dragostei,
Nascocind doar amintirea
Unei lumi ridicole.

Soartele isi tes in taina
Intrigile-n zambete,
Ca s-aduca la lumina
Adevar in plansete.

Numai inima mea, proasta!
Grinzile le spanzura,
Ca s-a catarat pe creasta
Celor care cenzura.

Iar acum tot galopeaza,
In catrene subrede,
Tropaind pe antifraza,
Lungi cuvinte umede.

Ceturile te ingroapa,
Menestrel de plansete!
Iar poverile-ti inneaca,
Lacrimile-n rasete.

La final doar nebunia
Te salveaza-n bocete.
Daruindu-ti simfonia
Unei vieti in lacrime.

Paiata

2011-01-19T12:51:00.000-08:00

Nu am stiut nicand ca sa implor,
Iar zeii buni s-au ingrijit de mine,
Si drept rasplata renascuta din rusine
Mi-au dat aceasta inima de cascador.

In raze reci m-arunc fara sa-mi pese,
De-a dura ma pot da pentru oricine,
Prin foc si para-as trece pentru lume,
Prin taine-obscure sau prin nobile excese.

De vrei sa razi, sau sa zambesti pentru o clipa,
Ai nimerit la negustorul potrivit!
Asterne-ti pe taraba suflul obosit,
Ca de umor si zambete sa ne-mbatam in pripa.

Si n-am stiut sa lupt decat cu altii-n viata,
Am invatat doar sa respir iluzii,
Sa le transform in droguri si perfuzii,
Ce-n visuri puerile, efemere se agata.

Azi in genunchi iti cad, Stapane,
M-ai invatat cum sa implor spre ceruri,
Sa plang si sa-mi doresc amoruri,
Sa-ti darui inima, sa jindui pasiune.

Dar nu uita, ca de iubit in viata asta mare,
Nu vei iubi vanatul sagetat, ci fiara libera de zale.

In amintirea lui

2010-12-30T17:12:00.001-08:00

Adu-mi aminte sa-ti cant in fiecare seara
Un imn marunt ce te nedreptateste,
Sa-mbin culorile iambic intr-o vara,
Sa pot sa cant un soare ce-asfinteste.

Adu-mi aminte sa veghez in noapte,
Cand mintea-mi umbla de nebuna printre stele,
Sa-ti construiesc un monument din soapte
Calde, reci, contraste-n sute de cismele.

Adu-mi aminte mai pe seara, sa-ti visez
Ca n-ai sa mori in sumbra vesnicie.
Vei dainui in fiecare vers pe care-asez
A timpului amprenta-n sihastrie.

Dezamagire

2010-12-28T05:17:00.000-08:00

Cu ochii goi si suflet inghetat,
Privesc cum viata ma dezbraca
De tot ce mi-am dorit si-am asteptat,
De viitorul liber al trecutului incatusat,
Privesc la orizonturi cum amorul sacru se inneaca.

Nu as putea sa-ti spun de ce mi-e pieptul desfacut,
Iar trupu-mi mi se frange-n mii de dumicati,
Cu oasele ce-n agonii se rup si tes necunoscut,
Durandu-ma si chinuindu-ma-n trecut,
Plouand funingine si astrii blestemati.

Ma dori de fiecare data cand gresesti,
Ma faci sa mor incet, sau sa disper in agonie,
In noptile cand sentimente asupresti,
Cu lungi si imature vorbe parintesti,
Cu etichete sociale prinse-n seaca teorie.

Divergente de opinie

2010-12-23T15:15:00.000-08:00

Murit-au muzele-n salvari albastrii
Si-au renascut din propria cenusa,
In rimele cazute-n praful de pe astrii,
Si-n ochi inexpresivi ca de papusa.

Departe-s astrii, ochii nu intrezaresc
Lumina rece in a timpului povara,
Ci fade umbre ce in valuri amortesc,
La orizonturile impletite in ocara.

Murit-au astrii-n prafuri selenare
Si-or sa renasca iar in praf de stele.
Mormantu-mi va-nflori ca floarea de cicoare,
Ca un sirag de diamante si margele.

Muzei mele

2010-12-22T15:04:00.000-08:00

Cand noaptea-si tese panza de sperante
Si luna-si oglindeste chipul sau suav si rece
In dulce si subtila alianta
De-amor precar ce-n seculi se petrece,

Cand raze reci ti-alinta chipul tandru,
Ti-as impleti in vis iubire si miracol,
Sa poti zbura-n iluzii dulci de copilandru,
Sa-mi poti schimba acest amar spectacol.

De te-as avea, de m-ai avea in viata sau in moarte,
Doar un minut, doar un moment, doar un sarut,
Ca sa ma dori cu vorbe dulci, desarte,
Ca sa te pot avea intr-un destin pierdut,

Cerneala mi s-ar transforma in manastire,
Iar tocul nu mi s-ar usca de-atata dor
Si coala alba nu s-ar adanci-n dezamagire,
Iubire azi, uitare ieri, peren amor.

Tu, muza mea, tu, visul meu de dor si de cuvinte,
Ridica-mi mainile-nghetate de atata iarna aspra,
Reda-mi lumina ochilor pierduta-n a trecutului morminte,
Iubeste-ma, reda-mi, ridica-ma in inaltimea ta maiastra.

N-as sti vreodata vreun bun al meu sa ti-l sacrific
Pe-altarul tau atat de gol, tarziu si tare,
Nu pot decat amorul sa mi ti-l crucific,
In roua de ambrozie si-n surda binecuvantare.

Crengile vietii

2010-12-19T16:31:00.000-08:00

by Kork & Arwen

Iarnă-am trăit,
Vară-am simţit,
Primăvară am sădit
Şi-n toamnă m-am dus.

Mijloc negru ce ma doare,
Timp havuz cu radacina,
Din lumina de la soare
Si-a tristetilor gradina.

Nu stiu sa ma uit in urma,
Totu-i doar perdea si umbre,
Ce originea mi-o curma,
In trecuturile sumbre.

N-as putea privi in fata,
Am uitat sa zbor spre cer.
de atat sublim in viata,
Ma innabus in eter.

Doar prezentu-i clar, cuminte,
Zugravit in iz de toamna,
Cadru aspru in cuvinte,
Ce-n petale ma condamna.

Departarea-i dulce-usoara
Ma imbie sa alerg
Peste toata aceasta toamna,
Tot amarul sa mi-l sterg.

O parte din mine

2010-12-18T19:02:00.000-08:00

De-as putea, ti-as da din Rai un vers,
Sa-l porti cu tine-n univers,
Sa-l strangi la piept, apoi sa-l sorbi sublim,
In lumea asta plina de venin.

Ambrozie sa-ti fie-n timpuri de durere,
Si dulce simfonie-n noptile stinghere.
Incet s-auzi cum vantu-n chip de zana,
Te mangaie tinandu-te de mana.

Doar de-as putea sa-ti spun, sa-ti dau, sa-ti cer,
De toate si nimic din viitorul efemer.
Si ce n-as da sa-ti dau un zambet in singuratate,
In dimineti adanci si-n roua de eternitate.

Corespondenta lunii

2010-12-13T20:21:00.000-08:00

by Sasha & Arwen

Cum ti-e viata?
Floare albastra
Cum ti-e moartea?
La fereastra
Viata manca chefuieste
Moartea din ochi nu slabeste
Viata rade, plange, doare,
Moartea asteapta la plecare,
Uita visele desarte,
Oglinda vietii e moartea.

Am scris in rime lungi, cuvinte mute
Si flori albastre cu arome de trecut.
Iubiri precare din apusuri rupte
Si lungi suspine-uscate de-un sarut.

Mai fabrici oare dulci himere
Din cantece si talcuri impletite?
Povesti cu diamante-n coliere,
La gura sobei de bunica povestite.

"No communication" - borrowed title

2010-11-18T06:12:00.001-08:00

Te aud, ma vezi? Nu ma mai simti,
Asa cum miroseam a toamna buna,
Asa cum ma vedeai cu ochi cu care minti,
Asa cum te stiam dormind pe semiluna.

M-auzi? Vorbesc cu tine amutind cuvinte.
Nu ma mai vezi de cand au inghetat lentile,
De cand alerg prea-ncet printre morminte,
In zori de zi si-n nopti cu amagiri senile.

Alearga, eu alerg. Mai stii sa zbori?
Precum atunci cand ingustai poteci,
Atat de-ncet cum eu te-am invatat sa mori,
Atat de-ncet amorul ti-l inneci.

Canturi de mahala

2010-11-18T02:07:00.000-08:00

Hei, cobzar de suprafata,
Cu degete precare canti
La ureche de paiata,
Canti cu sufletul de gheata
Vorbele ce le framanti.

Sezi in piata, jos, pe-o carpa,
Razi nebun de trecatori,
Cobza-ti adevaruri surpa,
Fara lacrimi, fara culpa,
Vise ieftine si-orori.

Doar penibilul te-mbraca,
Intr-o haina calduroasa,
Mincinoasa si opaca,
De onoare te dezbraca,
Sa-si iteasc-a ei hidoasa,

Fata muceda,
Viata ranceda,
Doar invidie,
Tu, perfidie.

Strigoiul

2010-11-17T06:53:00.000-08:00

Nu-ti pasa cum se vede ce mainile iti tes in noapte
Si nici nu rumegi prea adanc sau logic ce vorbesti,
Te-astepti ca vantul dulce sa te adore-n soapte,
Probabile si lungi siraguri de legende tineresti,
Traite-n fum albastru de trabucuri, si-n danturi tiganesti.

Te vinzi cam ieftin, ca apoi sa te prefaci ca totu-i bine,
Arunci hangere in a vietii haina cam cu indrazneala,
Plutesti usor si imoral pe nori incerti crescuti in tine,
Hranindu-ti des orgoliul cu teama, sa nu cumva sa pierzi din fala,
Sa nu cumva sa-ti stoarca picaturi de suflet din greseala...

Vei vrea-ntr-o noapte sa te-ntreci cu ingerii-n seraiuri,
Dar fi-vei tu prea mic sa poti s-alergi in viitoruri de lumina.
Si-atunci nici vantul n-o sa-ti mai indese norisorii-n raiuri,
Si nici Fortuna n-o sa-ti cante imnuri triumfale in surdina,
Si nu-ti vei mai intinde plasele de presupuneri la mine in gradina.

Árbol

2010-11-16T05:19:00.001-08:00

by Kork & Arwen

Te-am văzut din depărtarea
gândului demult apus,
Ploii dăruind pădurea
calmului de nepătruns.

Am căzut sub ceru-ţi negru,
Ros adânc de amintirea
Celor ce cântau tenebru,
Căutându-ţi iar, iubirea.

Arde-mi frunzele cărunte,
Zboară-mi mintea cea de fum,
Luminează-n miez de munte,
Şerpuind, un tainic drum.

Ceri lumina? Vrei lumina!
Soarele de ti-ar apune
Dupa crengile-ti nebune,
Muzici albe in surdina.

Ceri culoare? Vrei culoare!
Vantu-ti bate-n ganduri tare
Si-ti aduce amar iertare,
Rece, alba in ninsoare.

Ceri iubire? Ia iubire,
Fara sa te impletesti,
Ganduri dulci sa-ti regasesti
In a raiului privire.

Cer iubire, dependenta,
Cand imi cant amorul tandru,
Crud amurg de copilandru
Inventat din complezenta.

Aripile mele

2010-11-15T07:36:00.000-08:00

1997 - cand tot ce zboara se mananca

Gaseste in mutenie cuvant,
O stea mai alba-n negrul orizont,
Culorile mai vii din raul fond
Calcand peste pamantul fumegand.

Ridica-te deasupra tuturor
Atunci cand unii-asteapta ca sa cazi,
Ridica-te din flacari daca arzi,
Ingroapa-n suflet florile ce mor.

Raceala de-i simti in jur vreodata,
Cand singur in noapte vei fi iar,
Priveste-n sus si fa-ti un imn ca dar
Caci viata nu-i asa de blestemata.

Raspunde cu tarie la fiori
Care te-mping cu ace reci de gheata,
Creeaza-n gand o alta dimineata
In care poti sa speri, sa razi, sa zbori.

La batranete-n urma vei privi.
Te uita dar. Acolo e Lumina!
Lumea de afara nu-i straina,
Eu sunt prin ale tale amintiri.

Padurete

2010-11-15T00:49:00.000-08:00

by Kork & Arwen

Flori de măr în păr ţi-am pus,
Din gutui am stors un must,
Murelor, în vin de-apus,
Dau acum un roşu gust.

Plete blonde-ai despletit
Sa te joci cu glas de toamna,
Dantuind in asfintit,
Danturi albe-n pasi de doamna.

Si sub rodul dulcei brize,
Ce-ai pictat frumos in arte,
S-a culcat un rau cu crize
De poet ce-n vers desparte

Iernile si verile
Toamnele, parerile,
Apele, durerile,
Gandurile, vrerile.

Vis

2010-11-09T00:25:00.001-08:00

by Kork & Arwen

Am nins cu frunze, cu petale am nins,
Pe iarba gândurilor noastre,
Cu raze de soare-am plantat necuprins,
Mareea visurilor toarse.

Am ţesut pânză, veşmânt am ţesut,
Domniei albe-a simţurilor noastre
Ca să cuprindă întru neînceput
Deplin, a sufletelor oaste.

Si tot visez c-ai sa mai vii,
Cu zambet dulce stins in ceturi,
Cu-amoruri repezi prinse-n fluvii
De adanci si-nvolburate dimineturi.

A tot plouat cu ceata-n dealuri
Ce-a coborat incet peste catun,
Lasand in urma-i fum si daruri
Din chiciuri, inodor tutun.

Acum isi tese peste glie
Cu panze lucii de-amintiri,
Anevoioasa simfonie
In vorbe dulci cuprinse-n povestiri.

Doar un paianjen deranjat de viata,
Gesticuleaza furios din picioruse.
Jucand amar intr-un spectacol de paiata,
Cu ale toamnei mendre jucause.

Criticilor lui - tribut Adrian Paunescu

2010-11-05T05:23:00.000-07:00

Mi-e dulce-amar-haios de tine,
De stilul clasic al minciunilor in proza,
De ganduri amagite-n odioase crime,
De furturi de cuvinte-n ritmuri de psihoza.

Hai, vino-ncet si urma-mi calc-amar,
Ucide-mi pasii calm, cu al tau nume,
Arata-te-n splendorile de ieftin var
Si striga tare sa vuiasc-o lume:

Ca esti mai bun, mai drept, mai talentat,
Iar eu un scribe amarat, de timp uitat.

Astrul cetii

2010-11-03T03:01:00.001-07:00

by Kork & Arwen

Printre crengi de nevorbire,
Te-am văzut înmugurind,
Soarelui dator fiind,
Să îţi fac acum vorbire:

Timpului i-am dat culoare
Din paleta-mi de tenor
Şi-l opresc din al său zbor
Prin nuanţe de paloare.

Ţi-am ţesut din lut şi rouă
Pe-oglindă de cer senin,
Mantie de boltă nouă,
Să-mi zâmbeşti iar, opalin.

Pictor bland de primavara,
Cand pe panza-mi zugravesti,
Curcubee-n flori de tara,
Te-as ruga ca sa-mi gasesti

Mici bucati de suflet tandru,
Sa-mi culeg de jos grabit
Lacrimi dulci de copilandru,
In amoruri inrobit.

Sa-mi pictezi in noapte-un suflet,
Iar apoi sa-mi dai in dar,
Sentimente-n miez de cuget
In al vietii calendar.

Iar cand uit sa fiu fiinta,
Mai adu-mi copaci de toamna,
Sa-mi cladeasc-o constiinta,
Ca o torta ce ma-ndeamna

Sa iubesc, sa uit, sa iert,
Sa ador, sa zbor sa-i scriu,
Sa ma-ntorc ieri in desert,
Azi sa nu-mi fie pustiu.

Anomalii

2010-10-30T14:52:00.000-07:00

Doua migdale-amare-ai spus, stapane?
Aroma sa le simt in zori de primavara,
Cu raze calde-aruncate-n lanuri de secara
Si umbre de salvari albastri de cadane.

Si doua mure-mi daruiesti in prag de noapte?
Ca doua lacuri mari de vesnicie,
Sapate-adanc in munti de sihastrie,
Sinistre aventuri rostite-n soapte.

Ah, fantomele pe care le saruti, stapane,
Sunt amintiri perene in a timpului rutina,
Ce dantuiesc pe-un corp de balerina,
Iluziile lungi si dulci sa le farame.

O muza mi-a soptit sa te seduc diseara,
Alta mi-a spus sa zbor departe-n vant,
Sa ard, sa fug, sa reneg lent un legamant,
Sa poposesc pe tocul vechi uitat in calimara.

Catusele de mi le prinzi de-ncheietura,
Suprimi si nasti tagada si dorinta,
Implori toti zeii in a ta credinta,
Sa-ti faca-n dar a inimii armura.

Mimozele nu-mi plac deloc, stapane,
Dar ai putea ca sa ma dori in dor de seara,
Sa poposesti mai des in calimara,
Cu gusturi dulci de mure si alune.

Sarutul tau, in schimb, i-al meu pe viata,
Iar inapoi sa-l ceri nu-ti este-ngaduit,
El arde-acum pe buze ca un foc mocnit,
Pe buzele cadanei ca un sloi de gheata.

Sa te seduc? Nu pot. Sa ma seduci? Nu stii.
Sa te-mpletesc cu-al meu destin stingher?
Te-ai face scrum prea repede-n eter,
Contur incert de zambet de copii!

Rapsodia fugii

2010-10-29T03:08:00.000-07:00

by Kork & Arwen

Când pun soarele în praştie,
Zboară chiciura de vrăbii,
De pe-a drumului copastie,
Înspre abur de corăbii.

Nourii, de frig se-adună,
Nelăsându-şi nici un fulger
Să se uite după lună,
Cum o fur-acum un înger.

Scurt e timpul, şi e rece,
Sticlă-i aerul pe piele,
În ciulini şi prin nuiele,
Ne-om întrece.

Si cand torci cu fire rupte
In apusuri visatoare,
Ploaia vine sa-si sarute
Patima cuceritoare.

Un paianjen doarme-n trestii,
Fara sa se-ngrijoreze
Care-anume dintre bestii
panza o sai-o-ntremeze?

Toamna, fugi ca vine iarna
Peste dealurile coapte,
Sa se-asterne-n toata larma
Cu Craciun in miez de noapte.

Muzei mele

2010-10-27T08:08:00.000-07:00

M-am tot cernut in ploaie de durere si ispite
Si te-am tot alungat pe drumuri lungi si-obscure.
Si m-as tot ninge-n asternuturi adormite
De-as sti ca m-ai dori in patimi imature.

Te scurge-n rauri, vino, canta-ti calimara-n minte
Si nu-ti lua zborul inca, mai ramai in flori de tus,
Ca sa te darui unui vis in forma de cuvinte,
Sau unui copilandru-ascuns in ursuleti de plus.

De m-ati pierdut in stanca timpului trecut de-o viata,
Iar drumul inapoi n-oi mai gasi vreodata-n veci,
Avea-ve-ti versul sur si dulce-n lacrima de gheata,
Precum un felinar ce palpaie pe drumuri si poteci.

Sa nu ma dati prea ieftin, in piete la taraba
Si nu ma dati oricui, ca sa ma urce-n stele.
Pastrati-ma in inimi si-n minti ca pe-o podoaba,
Un mic graunte-n univers de peruzele.

Am sa ma darui tie, zeu nebun, in fiecare clipa
Caci ma ridici si ma cobori, cu aripi mari, perene,
Imi arzi grumazul si fiinta-n pripa,
Cu aprige iubiri, cu soapte si trairi eterne.

De n-ai fi tu, de parte muiereasca sau ca mandru domn,
N-as sti ce sunt, n-ai sti ce-ti cant,
As scrie mut si-as misuna in ranced somn,
Mi-as ingropa idilele si vorba-n funduri de pamant.

Iti multumesc ca ma iubesti, urasti, alungi, ma-ntorci,
Ca pe fuiorul ce bunica-l manuia-n trecuturi de copil,
Iti multumesc ca-adanc in nopti cuvinte lungi imi storci,
Ca sa te pot iubi in versuri lungi de batranel senil.

Toamna cruda

2010-10-21T03:58:00.001-07:00

Si inca n-am murit de foamea de a te avea
In curcubee de culori si-n ploaie de parfum,
Ca pasarea ce nu va mai renaste-n scrum,
De-atata teama prinsa-n saci de catifea.

Imprastie-mi covoare ruginii de frunze ude
Ca sa-nteleg bataia vantului cu iz de mare,
Sa pot sa te respir in fiecare floare
Care-a murit jilav in atmosfere crude.

De-ai vrea, eu te-as urma in cripta cenusie,
Cu aripile stranse si satule de banal,
Murind incet, cu calm, aproape masinal
Si-n ganduri lungi, albastre scrise-n vesnicie.

Promit

2010-10-12T08:44:00.000-07:00

De ce alergi intre detalii ieftine si dulci,
Cu lacrimi false si-amagiri in coji de nuci?
De ce ma dori cand ma arunci in sus spre cer,
Agale, asteptand miresme din eter?

Am sa te fac sa plangi cu lacrimi mute
De-atatea vise, cararui si vieti pierdute.
Dureri si amintiri lasate-n albe lacrimi
De-atatea nopti de agonie si de patimi.

Am sa te chinui ca pe un Sisif minuscul
Cu stropi de suflet ce se mistuie-n crepuscul,
Am sa te-ntorc din drumuri, din eternitate,
Cu-albastre sentimente frematate-n soapte.

N-am sa te las sa mori fara sa mor si eu,
Dar nici sa vietuiesti in vicii de ateu
N-am sa-ti permit.
Caci soapte ce-ai primit,
Sunt inimi ce-am iubit.
Acum ca ai plecat
Tinandu-mi sufletul cel sfartecat,
Deschis spre univers,
Si sters de-al vietii mers.
Caci timpul nu-i peren,
Ci doar ca un refren,
Pe care-l tot repeti,
Cand dragostea-o-nveti.

Obssessive Possession

2010-10-11T04:26:00.000-07:00

Drive me, with your gifted heart,
Lead my brutish instincts,
where the moon rises above the wordly riot.
Caress my multiple pains
with venom whispers caught in shades,
so I can reach into the world`s exigency.

Answer me when I am talking to you.
Why are you blind, what made you deaf to me?
Why can`t you smell my screams?
My own poison spreads, killing myself.
In this way I`ll take you with me,
so you won`t belong to anyone but me!

Depresie

2010-10-09T07:40:00.000-07:00

Pe strada ninge-n toamna timpurie
Si rosu crud se-asterne peste sentimente,
In dulce cant si-amara sihastrie
Si aprige dureri de spasme violente.

Tentatii dulci se scurg din felinare,
Lasciv privind in tolba mea saraca
De sentimente ce-n trecut crucificate,
S-au stins precar in noaptea ce ma-mbraca.

Trecut stingher ce-mi suieri dulce-amar,
Intoarce-te si schimbat-ti trena cenusie
In nopti albastre fara de cosmar,
Lumina dulce-n neagra vesnicie.

Trecut acoperit

2010-10-08T02:52:00.000-07:00

Tu stii de cate ori ma dori in fiecare clipa?
Nu stii! De-ai sti, nu alunga durerea-n pripa,
Desi cunosti ca ma hranesc din agonii
Atunci cand ma transformi in aprige stihii.

...As vrea sa-ti dau, sau nu ti-as da deloc
Suras sau raza de durere si noroc.
Cand intri calm far` de tagada si pacat
In sufletul meu muced, curcubeu stricat.

Ti-e frica? Mie nu. Si tare-as vrea,
Sa te-mpletesc pe-o acadea
De ganduri mute si cuvinte stravezii,
O acadea de vise pentru doi copii.

La revedere

2010-09-23T03:31:00.000-07:00

As vrea sa pleci, fara sa uiti ca ai uitat de mine
Si-as vrea sa stii tot ce-ai stiut ca de uitare tine.
Privesti trecutul, parca n-ai fi inteles atunci,
Ca din iubire cresc si-nmuguresc doar ape-adanci.

Iti place valul lin sau tumultos, de suprafata,
Ce trece repede prin a ta viata, fara de povata,
Te-ncanta doar seninul ce-i facil sau lesne de-nteles,
Alergi, te-ascunzi, omiti, eviti si renegi al meu vers.

De ce te temi si te ascunzi de adevarurile crunte,
Rostite lin, cu soapte putrezite din morminte,
Pe care vantul suierat ti le-a facut cadou de timpuriu
Sa-ti dea un sfat dulceag de viitorul plumburiu?

Ti-e mierea dulce acum amara, iar vorba ti-e ocara,
Te-mpotrivesti sa vezi ce clar iti sade-n verde crud de primavara.
Te dor si nervii, iti sunt uzi si-ntinsi in calimara,
Caci viata nu e tot ce-ti place, sau ce-ai vrea tu intr-o doara.

Ce bine-mi pare! Ce mult ma bucur c-ai descoperit esente!
Credeai c-ai sa seduci normalul vietii cu demente
De dimineti uitate neglijent in rest de Cabernet,
Credeai c-ai sa ma pacalesti lasandu-ti fracul amanet?

Acum alearga catre zarile ce muced le-ai tot zugravit,
Iar peste ani de scoarte, mucegaiuri, dame ce te-au preaslavit,
Sa nu te-ntorci, sa nu alergi si sa nu plangi cu suflet istovit
Sa nu doresti trecutul cald si bland, de silueta ta sinistra vaduvit.

Pentru putini

2010-09-21T01:42:00.000-07:00

1997 - niciodata nimic nu este suficient de mult, sau suficient de putin; suficient de tare, sau suficient de incet;

Am cautat iubirea ca pe-o cetate sfanta,
ca pe un cer de cantec in lumea de dureri.
Am dat navala-n viata spre tot ce ochiu-ncanta.
Si-am intalnit durerea. Dar cerul nicaieri.

Am cautat iubirea ca patrie voioasa,
ca pe-un pamant edenic de pace troienit,
sa spun odata clipei: "Ramai, esti prea frumoasa!"
Si-am strabatut pamantul, dar pace n-am gasit.

Am cautat iubirea ca pe un cer al firii.
Si-am vrut sa-i ies in cale cu ramuri de finic,
sa sorb din cupa lumii nectarul fericirii.
Si-am spart in tandari cupa, caci n-am gasit nimic.

Am cautat zadarnic. Dar intr-o primavara,
am intalnit in cale deodata un drumet.
Pe umerii sai trudnici purta o grea povara,
o sarcina de zdrente si cioburi fara pret.

Trecea pe-o cararuie intampinand batjocuri,
lasand sa-i rupa cainii din haina cate-un fald.
Urca pe colti de stanca. Si-n urma lui, pe-alocuri,
vedeai pe piatra rece sclipiri de sange cald.

Si totusi in privire avea un cer de taina
cum n-am vazut in lume in ochii nimanui.
Si-am vrut sa-i smulg povara. Dar am cazut cu spaima,
caci mult mai grea ca plumbul era povara lui.

M-am ridicat degraba si l-am ajuns din urma
sa aflu ce comoara in sarcina a strans.
Dar am simtit ca viata ca de-un prapad se curma,
cand am privit prin zdrente cutremurat de plans.

Caci se vedea-n povara un clocot ca de cloaca,
un colcait de drojdii, un spumeg de scursuri.
Tot ce-i murdar si putred in lumea asta-ntreaga
vuia strivind grumazul sarmanei lui fapturi.

-Dar unde duci, straine, povara ta ciudata,
povara de osanda sub care-atat te-apleci?
am întrebat drumetul. Si El mi-a spus in soapta:
-Spre apele uitarii, ca s-o arunc pe veci...

-Dar tu, vorbi strainul, urcand incet privirea,
dar tu pe cine cauti innourat si crunt?
-Eu, am soptit in sila, eu cautam iubirea...
-Iubirea? fu raspunsul strainului. Eu sunt...

Dansul sufletului

2010-09-20T01:29:00.000-07:00

- Bonjour! Te-ai si intors? Deja?
- Am vrut sa te cuprind in margine de stea
Sa-ti spun ca mi-ai lipsit in razele de luna
- Nu-mi spune, vino, sa mergem impreuna!

- Dar unde mergi? Apusul s-a racit de ieri.
Doi cuci, ce suntem, in abur de trecut, stingheri.
- Hai vino mai aproape, sa te simt, sa te sarut.
Cu vorbe dulci... si pasi... si ingeri din trecut

-Nu stiu de am sa viu, sau poate c-am sa ma indur
Te vreau, ba nu, sau da, cu corpul imprejur
M-ai ingropat, m-ai dat, te-am ingropat
Cu lacrimi mute si sufletul uitat.

Toamna

2010-09-14T05:58:00.001-07:00

In frunze-adorm sa-i simt aroma,
Probabil c-am sa stau asa cu genele-ngropate
Ca sa topesc mormanul alb de inimi inghetate
Si sa iubesc profund a iadului fantoma.

E umed totul si usor sinistru,
A toamnei trena s-o sarut ma-nvata,
Cu vorbe dulci si soapte de povata,
Sa conturez o viata-n praf de astru.

Un ultim vers si o silaba amaruie
Sa-mi staruie etern pe centru de pupila,
Apoi sa suiere-o alegorie dificila,
Si sa ma-ntoarca pe a vietii cararuie.

Vibratii

2010-09-09T01:41:00.001-07:00

Miroase-a rosu putred in camara,
A visine si toamna timpurie
Care-a venit asa, ca intr-o doara
Cu-arome lungi de prefacatorie.

Te uiti in dreapta si observi o simfonie,
Ce-ti face ochiul sa auda-n ode
Petale si stamine prinse in alegorie
De vorbe dulci si-arhitectura de pagode.

Si am sa-ti cad pe piele precum razele de soare
Fara sa simti de ce, sau sa-ntelegi de unde.
Ai sa mirosi vedenii si-ai sa vezi cu-nfrigurare
Amare siluete tremurande.

N-ai inteles nimic si niciodata n-ai vibrat
La sunete si nuante-n ochii verii.
Si nici n-ai sa-ntelegi obrazu-mpurpurat
De lungi extreme in crepusculul caderii.

Nu stii sa zbori, nici aripi n-ai avut vreodata
Sa stii ce gust sa simti in libertate.
Sa te hranesti din panica abandonata
In putrede morminte de invidii condensate.

Nu vei gasi vreo ratiune in extreme dulci
Si nici vibratii in deseuri de finante.
Nici n-ai sa stii sa vezi mai mult, decat un balci
Din fiare vechi si goluri de sperante.

Hai fugi, alearga catre orizont de suprafata
Si prinde-ti gandurile-n scurgeri de lumesc.
Te roaga in zadar de scopuri mici, paiata!
Si-uita de taramul selenar cu ingeri ce-nfloresc.

Am sa raman aici, calare pe-o sperant-albastra,
Nascut-amar si-obscur din mortaciuni si crini.
Cu ochi senini si flori de gheata la fereastra
Si farmec fad, si-arome de trecut senil.

1st day @ work

2010-01-12T05:47:00.001-08:00

Huge office, not that I complain about it, brand new computer, old mouse, keyboard and display. Friendly people, funky desk mate, and above all... super hot boss. Everytime he passes by me, he inflicts me with the "stay away" feeling. Not that I would have had any intentions, it`s just a feeling of mine.

So, starting this morning I`ve been a busy bee... computer customize - checked! Software installed - check! Helping colleagues - check! Getting a lil` bored - check! And finally, being awfully hungry - check! I feel like eating a whole cow, all on my own. I could eat the whole China... And all I can think of is Daniel being in a restaurant right now. Life sucks and then you die.

My mind is empty. No food... no philosophy, no Decartes for today. So I can`t think, therefore, I don`t exist.

THIS is how I see people around me.

Ziduri

2009-12-23T18:14:00.001-08:00

Puteti vorbi dulceag, puteti vorbi amar,
Puteti aduce briza-n sori si lacrima-n cuvant.
Am sa graiesc doar surd, ca un strengar,
Cuvinte mute de trecut in vant.

Puteti elibera stihii far` de masura
In pacea dintre noi care-a durat prea mult.
Caci n-am sa ma ridic sa va graiesc cu ura
Si n-am sa fac din hula strai si nici din razbunare cult.

Impletesc...

2009-12-20T15:32:00.001-08:00

Nu stii sa impletesti cuvinte
Ca sa seduci sabinele vulgare.
Saruta slova-n putrezi legaminte,
Saruta-ti indelung aducerile-aminte,
Sabinele-ti vor plange la picioare.

Iar cu-mpletitul meu, batran senil,
Sa-l lasi sa-ti impleteasca uneori,
Suvite-albastre-n cadru pueril,
Cu ata alba din trecut febril
Si umbra calda-n zdrente de splendori.

Pain

2009-12-05T02:58:00.000-08:00

As days go by my hunger grows stronger. As days go by I`m loosing my focus more and more due to the extraordinary need, desire or... will that covers my consciousness. I have done something stupid that broke my chain of evolution: I have spoken of the hunt, and now my lips are permanently dry, my thirst grows, I have stopped feeling and started wanting. My eyes came back to the hawk condition, because everywhere I look I see preys. I know, actually I am very sure I am not ready to hunt. My abilities are not back yet, my certainty is still far lost into the darkness of logic. I dream pure blood going along with lifeless eyes. I can`t focus, I have to focus to restrain myself. I have to stop or innocence will suffer again, and again... and again, till there is no innocence left in this world. I am a killer, I am born a killer, I am designed to kill. I feel no purpose in this nice, peaceful life. I am a killer. I will never try to change myself into a lamb. I have never been a lamb and lying myself has been my greatest mistake. Now what remains to be seen is if my need of belonging is stronger than my thirst.

Revedere

2009-11-18T11:42:00.000-08:00

Plouat-au lacrimi multe, mute,
Din ochii orbi de-asa iubire.
Si-a nins cu aripi frante si-ascutite,
Peste carari, in cimitire.

Trezeste-ma cand vrei sa ma saruti,
Si-am sa m-asez pe un mormant
Cu crini din mortaciuni nascuti,
Ca sa primesc al tau cuvant.

Nu stiu de-am sa astept o vesnicie,
Strigoi sunt eu, asa am fost o viata.
Iubesc, urasc, respir in agonie,
Creez, distrug, ador cu sufletul de gheata.

Nu stiu a spune cum, sau cat de mult,
Nu stiu sa fac, sa chem, sa zbier,
Dar stiu ca vreau, doresc, ascult,
Implor, ma rog, sau sufar in eter.

Te rog, ba nu, implor nu stiu sa ce,
Dar nu pleca din nou, sau pleaca!
Ba stai, dar nu prea mult, amice.
Amice, stai! Dorinta ca sa-mi treaca.

Dorinta e? Sau doar tagada si pacat?
Ia spune-mi tu, ce e in mintea mea?
Trecutul sec, ce huiduie stacat,
Sau soare crud ce rade-n zeflemea?

Precar mi-e totul si-usor penibil,
Sa iti vorbesc doar, si atat.
Mi-e frica sa observ ce e lizibil.
Si ma opresc sperand ca e mai mult.

Mi-e versul sur, mi-e sunetul sinistru,
Nu cred ca sunt cuvinte ca sa-ti spun,
Si nu mai stiu decat s-articulez buiestru
Si-n rime usor-comerciale sa apun.

Puzzles Of Life

2009-11-11T12:38:00.000-08:00

In over 3 thousand years of life one can never expect what life or death may offer. I have no idea how I started to leave or when I started to die. I may never know the true answer to that, despite the fact they say that if you find the root, you will be able to cut the problem off. Sometimes I remember my father sitting down at his desk, watching me over his glasses. My father is not young, like my step father. He`s old, I may even say that he`s a walking encyclopedia. I have never find one single question to give him trouble. I am also able to say that he has lived his life pretty much to the max, as any respected cancer would do in his shoes: three wives, two daughters and lots of wine and women. Sometimes I even admire him for being a cynical concerning people. Sometimes it is good to ignore people, or their opinion, exactly like he had done most of his life. I think I am born either in the wrong place in universe, or in the wrong time, because all I can see is a permanent change into worse. I`m not saying that my father is a role model, not at all. On the contrary, I might say he was among the worst of his time. But comparing what has been with what it is happening nowadays, I am able to say that my father is the most educated, wise, smart, polite son of a bitch I`ve ever met. Why? I have no idea why. Actually I do: we are going in the wrong direction... all of us. That wouldn`t be a problem, if I still found nice things to comment on, or to look upon. But every day when I look around I get scared first of what I see, and second, that I may someday become what I see.
To create an own small universe is very difficult. Leaving that universe is even more difficult. Starting a new one based on security and stability is, maybe, the most difficult target. So I came to respect strong people. Pity they have become rare birds in the flux of life. Being a prisoner of material life sucks big time. Becoming a prisoner of material life sucks more. Acknowledging it is agonizing, at least for me. Freedom is one luxury very few people afford. I am not free. I am caught in the middle of the waterfall. I want out and I am aware that I will never be able to get out and create. My words sometimes become mute and corny. I feel them corny and I can`t change them, no matter how hard I fight with myself. Tendencies of reacting to daily competition distract me from what I was supposed to do. I can`t find my place, I can`t find myself in all that. That`s how I know I don`t belong here, or now. I can`t find any honor or truth in what I live. There must be something else, something more than eyes can meet. To cry for the country is noble, to die for the country is the highest honor one may ask from God.

Alfa & Omega

2009-10-18T07:55:00.000-07:00

Te-ai gandit vreodata,
ganduri ceva mai consistente...
decat hartia creponata?
Ai contopit in tine,
iubiri, amar, venin, orgolii si uri,
sa simti pe limba veninul
unei grotesti picturi,
pe care-o vezi intr-o oglinda,
incepand de la tine insuti,
pana la ultima grinda
a celei mai neinsemnate fapturi?

Bufon al lumii proiectate
de tine, tot in tine,
te crezi tu oare
vreo Mafalda, galanta,
isteata si in stele cititoare,
ca sa ghicesti al omului soroc?

Dar deh... nu pot sa neg,
C-ador al eului intreg
ce-l regasesc in aroganta ta...
Cu timpul poate, am sa inteleg
acea proiectie pe care-o vezi
in tine doar, caci restul lumii
Ii pustiu de ea...

Missing The Observer

2009-10-15T16:27:00.000-07:00

Last few days some things took place, I was rather speechless regarding behaviours, lack of consciousness, or education. I am in the difficult situation of not knowing how to react towards certain things going on in my life. I have the strong feeling of going away and write, sleep, write, watch, laugh, and then write again. I also find myself in the unfortunate situation of not being understood, specially regarding the previous mentioned aspect. I`m afraid to talk about it with anyone, family included. I need my observer status back. I desperately need it, in order to fill in what`s missing, in order to let the word create less enthusiastic symphonies about how things are around me.

I don`t have time to write as much as I used to do, and that gives me the most frustrating feeling ever. I can`t quit, I need the money to survive. I wake up every morning intoxicated with phrases and words, but with no time to put them down. All I`ve got left is the hope that one sweet day, all this stupid system that we`re living in will be gone. And some of us will learn how to... love the universe, of course, each of us in our unique way.

Maybe one day man will learn how to indulge himself with the pleasure of knowledge, experience and adventure. Maybe...

Easy Way, Easy Thinking, Easy Choices

2009-10-08T15:55:00.000-07:00

We love them, because they belong to us. They are cute when they are young. They look upon us as if we are their Gods. And we are. They trust us, we grow to trust them, we learn to love them. But not more than our own confort allows us to. We pet them when we feel like doing it, not when they need us. At least not always. We often speak greatly about their noble behaviour, about their unique intelligence, we appreciate their loyalty.

But we never judge our loyalty towards them, or towards other beings. When they grow old, they become burdens. They suddenly become too many, too demanding. Their treatments are too expensive. Their souls cost too much. It`s nice when they great us at the door, waving their tales, eyes full of hope and joy. But we are always too tired to take them out, or to play with them.

Now that they are old, they are suddenly too many. They know it, so they gradually disappear into dark corners of the house, trying not to bother us with their small needs. At the end one question remains to be asked: are we entitled to call ourselves intelligent beings?

Ali Baba

2009-09-24T15:41:00.000-07:00

Mi-e fara soare-n par si in simtire,
Strain si-albastru-verde duh in devenire.
Respir caldut-racoare-n lampa de arama,
Si-admir cadanele-n salvari ce se destrama.

Privesc haremul cum mi-apasa scoarta,
In dansuri moi sau tari, mustind a viata.
Imi chinui cugetul ca sa-nteleg menirea
Acelora ce-mi macina si usca firea.

Seraiul mi-e-n emotii smaraldii-albastre,
Si ninge timpul peste lampile sihastre,
Ce-mi multumesc cu duhuri albicioase
In versuri sure si in rime de pucioase

Ca le-am tot stors destinul crud din vene
Ca sa-mi hranesc dorintele perene
Cu samburi dulci de amagiri si lacrimi,
Palate-nalte de dureri si patimi.

Terminator Salvation

2009-09-14T13:46:00.000-07:00

Ok... just finished seeing the movie. Not that I didn`t expect a full demonstration of robots and special effects, because I did. I didn`t expect Christian Bale (check out The Machinist or Equilibrium) to have such a poor role. No, I didn`t expect one of the main characters to be invincible, allmighty, etc. But I truely believe that his character was poor. Why? Well... always speaking in low voice? That was not cool. Always against the odds? Not cool again. Always having the best ideas? Etc, etc etc.

Ok, Marcus was a lil` better, though the "half man-half machine" part mixed with all the human crap doesn`t work, logically, with the "resetting" a chip, input in his head. I`m not even talking about him taking that chip out from his head all by himself. I am not going to comment indefinitely on how a GOOD scifi movie should be. I am not going to comment on the logical basis of appointing one frakking character to be a machine, but then, you choose to humanize it for the sake of one pussy and the whole american (no capital for "american") public.

What I know for sure is that Arnold Schwarzenegger and Robert Patrick are the best two terminators. Why? Well... I guess everybody saw the 1st two parts. I guess everyone understood what a "steel" behaviour means.

Conclusion: YES, it is a must see movie, just to fully taste effects and high-tech production. The way they have chosen to play the story? Poor. Except effects and the story, I have ignored almost everything.

Feelings Belong To The Universe

2009-09-05T15:08:00.001-07:00

Have you ever considered that feelings are pretty much the same for everybody? Anyway, that`s a long talk, and I am not in the mood. But this is something to watch....

New Life...

2009-08-30T18:23:00.000-07:00

... I`ve waited for so long, hoping that one sweet day the sun would show his fat face on my street too. And it did. Today it`s the day the sun started to shine again. Now it is all up to me, up to my strength. Because during all this time I have discovered that I am all alone. No one REALLY cares, and till now I have found no one knows the meaning of total commitment. Neither in friendship, nor in love... nowhere. No one knows how to love... completely, with no personal purpose and specially with no pride. I do... I am not perfect. But I know how to love, both friends and men. My problem is all the pain that I feel every single time when each (so-called) friend that I`ve got judges me, or insults me, or whatever. They think I don`t know... but I do. And it hurts like hell they believe I am so stupid that I can`t understand when they cheat me... or lie to me.

I know I am not their friend, but they are my friends. So despite I am going to be hurt each time when they will try to fool me, again and again, I will continue to love them.

For all that matters...

2009-08-11T12:40:00.000-07:00

... no more mrs. Nice Blowjobing

Social Status

2009-08-10T03:05:00.001-07:00

I have just found out that this shit matters. It really does. I have also found out that social status makes people heartless and stupid. I know that most of the excuses for failure sound like "it doesn`t matter what people think about you", or "it doesn`t matter what you are as long as you consider yourself worthy". I know there are no perfect people. There are no better people and worse people. All of us are in the way that human mind receives information, based on educational and cultural level.

Now... why whould I say that social status, as a basis-concept of criteria makes people stupid? Well, something very strange happened to me. A couple of days ago I`ve met with my oldest, best friends. I was happy just to see them, as we haven`t got the chance to meet for a long time. We ended up discussing what we have been doing, and other usual stuff.

I found out disrespect has the most peculiar sources: social stamps. It`s normal for people to judge other people. Yet I find it not normal the supreme judgment. I am not going to do that with them, I continue to respect them for what they are, for what they`ve taught me during the years. I will continue to respect them for the warm summer nights that we had spent playing poker, because they have given me the best years of my life.

What I don`t understand is their change their behaviour towards me regarding financial situation, or their opinion about my purposes. I have never asked them money, even though there were times when I was in deep need of it. I have never judge them for their uncertain love life, or for other personal matters or tastes. I discovered that I am being judged for what I`ve mentioned above.

Is self esteem something to be earned through the eyes of others? I don`t think so. I haven`t thought so neither during times of wealth, nor through times of poverty. Yet others do. So I guess I`ve got something bitter to chew for a couple of days. It will pass anyway.

Just In Case...

2009-08-06T18:31:00.000-07:00

... I won`t enjoy what the doctor is gonna tell me tomorrow:

Reminder: Life Is Beautiful

2009-08-04T19:42:00.000-07:00

After all... this is all that matters

Darkness Falls

2009-08-03T10:18:00.000-07:00

Am cautat in 7 luni si zeci de stele
Rug de dorinta si magic-armonie,
Si am secat cu ura sute de cismele
Ca sa gasesc un mic crampei de bucurie;
Strigand a disperare si pustiu amarnic,
Probabil c-am sa mai plutesc pe-aceasta lume,
In leagane de-otrava si in balci sarcastic,
Dar n-am sa aflu cantul dulce-al vechiului tau nume.
Mi-e duhul ars, pustiu si plin de tina,
Iar ochii nu-mi mai vad decat venin,
Nu stiu de mor sau umblu fara tihna
In lumea asta mare, plina de suspin.
Mi-e teama dar, sa te mai gust o data,
Mi-e teama c-ai sa mori de-otrava grea si mare.
De-ai sti ce-a fost, de-ai sti vreodata,
De-ai sti amarul meu, durerea. Chemare:
A mortii, fara chibzuinta,
A uriciunii si eternei asteptari,
A goliciunii si a lipsei de vointa
De-a auzi inert, grotesc, perenele chemari.
Mi-e noaptea sora de tagada si pacat,
Iar luna-mi frange aripi negre-n zbor marcat
De umilintele lumesti de peste ziua sura,
De proprii demoni si de lipsa de masura.
Dragonii mei imi sunt straini, departe,
Iar fata ce-oglindeste-a ta privire clara
E hada-dulce-amarui-sihastra,
E scarba-mila-sila in lanul de secara.
Ce vrei, de fapt, chiar de la Moartea insasi?
Vrei zilele sa ti le curmi fara de judecata?
Ai plange milione de petunii. Sa-si
Faca zeii mila-sila-amar de tina-mi ne-mpacata.
Dar te iubesc etern de la distanta,
Din neagra mea mocirla,
Din fundul ros de iad, dar plin de rezonanta.
Chemarile-ti sunt mana,
Iar chipu-ti mi-e dojana,
Rusine mi-e, caci sunt strigoi,
Departe-adanc inchis
De-al vietii clar suvoi,
In pivnite de taina.

Drumul Vietii

2009-08-01T12:45:00.000-07:00

In noaptea neagra si uitata-n veacuri,
Luna isi cerne valul sumbru de groteasca simfonie,
In stiluri crude-clare minte-n leacuri
Si-n crancena si prematur-alegorie.
Sub streasina de ganduri ude, infoiate,
Asterne ipocrit, cu mila prematura
O salba lucie de ganduri despuiate
De straiul limpede, mustind a ura,
Un vis rotund dar mort inca din fasa,
Ce suduie prelung si-si arde-a sale moaste,
Cu duhuri mici, neizbavite de a vietii taina,
Cu scoarte gri si dezinvolta haina.
Cat de usor e a rosti pacate,
Ce nu tu le-ai urzit incet in soapte!
Si-ti sunt zvarlite-n traista-n sila,
Cu chipul slobod de cuvant si mila.
Iar ranita ce-alegi s-o duci o-ntreaga viata,
Ti-e tropot dulce si-ndelung suspin,
Cu ranile deschise-n arc de piata
Si cugetul ce-si unduie-al sau chin.

Si-ai sa ma cauti in albastre departari,
Cand moarta eu voi fi de mult ce-am obosit.
Si-ai sa ma chemi, sa ma invoci din munti si mari,
Din ploi si secete si arzator desert ranit.

O stanca eu voi fi, pe care vei calca nestiutor,
Un spirit ranced, muced si lipsit de dor.

A Lesson Of Humiliation

2009-07-29T04:08:00.001-07:00

It`s so simple to throw words at people, specially when you know that due to some reasons the person you`re humiliating is not able to answer back. It`s so damn simple to think about yourself you`ve got the ultimate right and the ultimate power that you`re entitled to say or do anything to people. But what will you do when that person will answer you back exactly the same way you`ve been treating her/him?

In that situation my mother got pissed off, threatening she will cut off my power, remove my computer, etc,etc. Anyway, she did her best to find a way to touch me somehow. Pitty she didn`t succeed. I`ve paid for the power, I`ve paid for my own computer, I`ve been paying for lots of other stuff, so she has no right to do whatever she pleases with my own objects. So, she came up with something new: she said I`m going to have to pay for my food. I said fine.

So, that`s how I am put in the position to play tough with my own mother. Everybody would say I`m crazy, rude, bad daughter, etc. Well... people... try to be in my place for a week. And if any of you find humiliation a good way to be pushed to do soemthing good with your life, lemme` know.

In case any of you think that I misunderstand certain things... read below.

hu⋅mil⋅i⋅ate

–verb (used with object), -at⋅ed, -at⋅ing.

to cause (a person) a painful loss of pride, self-respect, or dignity; mortify.

You need practical examples?

1. You are never good enough for her. You can never compare to her, your life is way easier than hers, your job is much simpler than hers, etc.

2. Everything you do will never be good enough. Everything she does is sacred. You are just a piece of crap trying to survive on her back. Your job is lousy, your choices are lousy, your mind is lousy. She is the mother of Jesus Christ and you`re a mean roman soldier putting her to work for you. AND NO, I AM NOT OVERREACTING!!!

3. You will NEVER be as good as she is. No matter what you do, no matter how much you study, or read, or work... you will continue to be a lousy piece of crap in her eyes. And guess what? She even nows for sure that treating you like this will make you better, will determine you to try to be better. So she keeps doing it. Minute after minute, day after day.

4. You are a slave, not her child. Not that my mother would put you to work till death. No, she`s not that kind. Actually she would work herself to death just to prove you that you`re nothing but a lazy piece of crap. She treats you like a slave because you must always know what`s your place, what`s your condition: you will always be inferior to her.

And don`t missunderstand me: she means well. She tries to make me better. She has always tried to bring out the best of me. But she has never ever tried a different way to prove her points. She made me better. But I ended up hating her.

The Master Of The World

2009-07-28T15:11:00.000-07:00

I`ve been told I should live, but I have no idea why I just like to watch.
I`ve also been told to gather facts and form an opinion afterwards. Despite that, I like to change opinions, in this way I can evaluate myself: I am able to see if my opinions are wrong or if I was right. I can test and train my intuition.

I`ve been silenced. But no one could stop an idea. No one has been able to put a thought to death without any chances of revival. So, my mouth is shut, but words keep flowing. I think I`m reliving the "master of the world" syndrome. There are few people that know what this really means. And no... it`s nothing like a God complex.

So, for those who know, climb up to the sky and look under your feet. Take a deep breath, after all, a successful flight over the world is a one life experience in some cases.

Amazing...

2009-07-27T13:24:00.000-07:00

... not that I enjoy listening to this kind of music, despite that I was amazed. Not that Bianca Ryan is a nobody. But after seeing Charice...

Tastes And Designers

2009-07-25T05:04:00.000-07:00

I went shopping with my mother. We needed to buy a shirt for my father. Men stuff are always perfect. Always suitable, always clean and clear. When I have to dress a man, I always know what to choose, what works with his eyes, or with the color of his skin... I am quite successful in that. But not when it is about me.
I am picky, I am damn picky. I can`t find reason in absurd ornaments that cover almost everything that is nice or sexy about a woman. Does the woman have hips? Ok, then show her bloody hips off. Why? Cuz she`s frakking sexy. Does a woman have long legs? Then show her frakking long legs.

But no, that`s not the way. It`s not fashion. Fashion is ment to let people know in how many ways a famous designer can abuse common sense, or excentricity, or sex appeal. Fashion is when a common arrogant designer comes and sais "TODAY YELLOW IS THE COLOR!!". Even if yellow makes me (for instance) look pale ... as if I was dead. But no... in their opinion, I should be dressed in yellow? Why? Because it is fashionable.

Well, people... fuck fashion. Why? Because I apreciate beauty in a less Aristotellic way. I apreciate hips, or boobs or long legs at a beautiful woman, wearing a beautiful simple dress. You know, the kind of the dress that completes the image, not the kind that tries to create one. Well, people, unless you`ve got at least several grands to go shopping at Channel`s, start thinking your own models, go find a good tailor and start creating beautiful things.

Because beauty nowadays is so... into fame and wealth.

Sahara Madness

2009-07-24T09:23:00.000-07:00

Well, it seems I`m the only one feeling alright during all this unnatural heat. And I have no idea why exactly. I went out to buy some icecream and some other stuff from the market, there were like 50 degrees and a very hot wind. It felt kinda nice.

Now... the madness. People started to wonder why I am not complaining about the heat. So, after coming back home, I remembered I had forgotten to buy milk and bread (and some other stuff). So I got back downstairs to get what I needed. While being in the lobby I was able to hear the conversation between two of my neighbours that I had previously encountered when I got back from the 1st round of shopping.

- Mrs. Ani... I really believe she`s mentally sick.
- Are you serious?
- Have you ever seen anyone enjoying this silly heat?
- She told me once she went to Sahara. Maybe the bedouins did something to her, said mrs. Ani laughing out loud.

I opened the door and walked right by them. At my sight they suddenly stopped. They watched me, and they continued with something else as if the whole world was perfect.

- I`ve baked a cake for Claudiu last night. He was so pleased.
- Really?? On this heat?
- You know I would do anything for him. Since he got back from the Academy I`m so proud of him. I`m a uniform sucker...

"Yeah... me too", I thought. "I think Claudiu is really ... hot, specially in his uniform". I wish I forgot about my parents honor from time to time., and during this "unfortunate" amnesia I told everybody how imperfect all of us are, and how they should stop doing... certain things.

- Do you think she heard what I was saying?
- Neah... she looks high today!! I think she`s suffering of Sahara Madness and I mean it!

"No, stupid bitch, I am not high.... I am at my period. And yes, I hate everyone and everything in this moment. AND, guess what? YES, I`ve heard everything", I thought, but didn`t say anything. So, with a friendly look and an encouraging smile, I slipped inside the shop to buy some tea. After all, those bedouins told me that there`s nothing better than some hot tea during these days.

My Mother And The Price Of Silence

2009-07-23T06:26:00.000-07:00

I have noticed that in every second from my life I have had to prove to someone that I`m worthy of... everything I get. I have also noticed that silence in these days is very expensive. You are either a successful person and your money closes everyone`s mouth, or you are exposed to the general judgement: you are either too rich, or too poor, or too excentric... in any case they always find a way to judge what you are.

And yes, it is normal, among strangers. It is normal to be judged, at least till you become... "close" to the group. I thought that after you get close enough people learn to accept you the way you are. But no, I was wrong. My mother hasn`t accepted me for what I am, not even now, after 31 years of existence. She permanently tries to shape me... after her own appearance. She tries to shape me, by humiliating me every single time when I open myself to her. I`ve told her one of these days that I am so afraid that I am going to be a bd daughter in the future. She asked why, but I wasn`t able to answer her straight. I am answering her here: I am afraid that she will drive me away for good... and that I won`t want to hear of her ever. Not because she has been humiliating me, but because she will keep doing that thinking this is the way she should treat me.

I am tired of proving everyone that I am what they expect me to be. I want to be who I want to be and not some fancy-rich-bitchy business woman, driving an expensive car, with 20 handsome servants sticking around me. I want to be me...

I WANT TO BE ME!!! Is that something so difficult to offer to someone?

Monday Night & Sales Principles

2009-07-13T14:38:00.000-07:00

Do not underestimate the power in the tone of your voice. How well do you use your voice to express emotion and emphasize the importance of your message? In today's world where more business is done over the telephone rather than in person it's important to realize that a voice can in fact hinder your success.

We all run out of time. We are expected to increase our sales in numbers, but we often sit spinning our wheels wondering how to do so. It today's economy it's important to nurture the relationships that matter. That doesn't mean just nurturing the potential clients that may sign tomorrow, but nurturing every relationship.

Contrary to popular belief, to be a successful salesperson, it doesn't matter how much you know about your product or service. It also doesn't matter how much of an industry expert you are.

To attract attention in your industry, you have to show off. Well-known people became well-known because they showcased themselves.

Men And Complex

2009-07-13T02:17:00.000-07:00

You men always... ALWAYS have to be, or at least to seem to be above. Not that you are, don`t get me wrong... But if you`re not doing that, you ain`t men. You have to prove a point, you have to tell us women: "Hellooooooooooooo, I am the men in the house, so respect ME, woman!!".

Yeah bitch, I respect you... or at least I`ll start respecting you the moment you start rubbin` me properly... Or the moment when you start reacting when I`m rubbing my butt on your pants. Why? Because your point is proven: you wanna fuck. Ok, I`m the woman, I get it!! Now stop proving points and start putting your hands in the proper places. No? Why? Ah... you`re the man... of course, you do things when you wanna do them, you decide when`s the right time to do everything. Thenstop wondering why there are no women willing to date your sorry arse.

Easy Like Sunday Morning

2009-07-11T23:25:00.000-07:00

Good morning, world! Despite the rainy morning, my coffee tastes perfect. I need to sleep more, but I won`t do it... this morning attitude rocks, so why spoil it? I`m in that state when you feel like doin` nothin` at all, yet, you`ve got the strange energy that pushes ya to different actions, have no idea wtf is wrong... or right. After all it feels alright, so I`m not gonna complain. So no coffee outside, under a blanket, in the fresh smell of the rain. I suddenly feel too romatic for this morning. My doctor Doolittle got to the office (in time, as usual)... and now he`s in the usual silent mode, not hear, no see, no talk kinda thing.

So... my coffee`s sweet, my Sunday`s cold. Keep up the good work, people, after all... I`m easy.

Wonderful World

2009-07-11T14:12:00.000-07:00

Pleasant day, pleasant people, and also, pleasant topics, at least for me. The lack of confidence is often expressed as a lack of "know-how" to allow words to subtitute emotions. So let`s feel cool, listen to cheap music and hunt out in the open. Anyone can explain me, how the hell some people end up being totally the oposite of good taste and common sense, just because they haven`t got the slightest idea about how to live?

Cheap music, cheap eyes sliding on my body... and the damn bus keeps being frakking late. Cheap music, again... cheap eyes, again. And I am supposed to react like a horny stupid lil` bitch, overimpressed by the macho talents of the hood concepts. I`m desperatly looking for the bus, as the music goes on, scratching my brains and my nerves. Big bellies, noisy laughters... and cheap music. Where the frak is that bus?!?! He starts walking... one of them. I don`t dare check how many they are. Not because I`m afraid... neah... but I think I`m gonna be scared by the number of people that need to be shot. So, as I was saying... he walks around, trying to meet my eyes. He`s got the cool walk, something that expresses "hey pussy... wazzup?". I`m avoiding his eyes by admiring a dirty Vectra parked right in front of me, or by checking some products at a small shop. One of them is shouting in disgrace: "Yo, buy her a lipstick!!". I told myself: "I need a shotgun, you dumbass, not a lipstick.... I`m full of lipsticks, eyeshaders, eyeliners and any other face molesters. I need something to make you regret the fact that you were born stupid. I need enough money to bribe a doctor to cut your balls so that you won`t reproduce. I need a bat to hit your face till I see small pieces of your teeth popping out of your mouth. I need your face to be as stupid and ... inviting, so I won`t be tempted to stop hitting it." THE BUS!!! The damn bus is coming. I`m happy... no more "manele", no more empty looks. I`m getting into the bus. While watching the happy gang in the station, I`m thinking: I`m a racist! Should I be sorry for it?

The New Face Of The Truth

2009-07-10T07:06:00.000-07:00

TRUTH!!!

...And the road becomes my bridge
I have stripped of all but pride
So in her I do confide
And she keeps me satisfied
Gives me all I need

...And with dust in throat I crave
Only knowledge will I save
To the game you stay a slave
Rover wanderer
Nomad vagabond
Call me what you will

But I'll take my time anywhere
Free to speak my mind anywhere
And I'll redefine anywhere
Anywhere I roam
Where I lay my head is home

...And the earth becomes my throne
I adapt to the unknown
Under wandering stars I've grown
By myself but not alone
I ask no one

...And my ties are severed clean
The less I have the more I gain
Off the beaten part I reign
Rover wanderer
Nomad vagabond
Call me what you will

But I'll take my time anywhere
Free to speak my mind anywhere
And I'll redefine anywhere
Anywhere I roam
Where I lay my head is home
Carved upon my stone
My body lie, but still I roam

Wolf cry

2009-05-09T14:25:00.000-07:00

- Are dogs going to Heaven?
- I don`t know, I don`t know if there is any Heaven at all.
- You must keep the faith... I`m scared. Help me!
- ...
- Stop crying, you are scaring me even worse.
- I don`t know what to do. The needle in your paw helps you... this nice doctor is helping you.
- Remember when I ran away from you `cuz my paws were frozen?
- Hell yeah!! And I thought my parents were going to kill me because of you.
- I know, that`s why I did it. I was 4 months old. I was unable to defend you... and you were walking in that park as if you were queen of the place, with so many nasty dogs around you...
- Oh, I see it now, you were jealous!
- It hurts... again!
- I think you will go to Heaven!
- Not yet... I`ve got plenty of things to do. Not just yet...
- I`m not ready for this either, not now.
- Don`t worry, I promise I will be strong.
- I trust you... even if you`re a dog.

Wolf song

2009-05-08T17:23:00.000-07:00

- Does it hurt you much?
- Yes, it does, and I don`t understand why, I don`t know what`s going on.
- It`s life, it hurts like that when you reach to a certain point.
- What is life?
- I have no idea, I can`t explain, and I am not sure that you would understand. Tell me... why don`t you tell me that you are in pain?
- But I am telling you... each time when you look into my eyes, you see it, and you know it.
- I don`t speak your language, I don`t know how to read your mind. Human beings are stupid when it comes to that: expression or reading expressions.
- I know you are... you have always been like that. Maybe that`s why I got everything I have ever wanted without begging.
- I love you! You would have got it anyway... even if you hadn`t been a dog.

For my wolf

Goddess looking for God

2009-04-10T09:09:00.000-07:00

I felt lost (not that I didn`t like it), haven`t managed to find myself just yet. Probably it will take me a life time to do so, and I am not sure it is going to be as complete as my mind desires.
I fell down, then got up, just to stand tall face to face with my agony, to tell it "I love you", but I didn`t feel better, because I wanted more.
I`ve been searching pain, and I found it where I didn`t expect it to be, wandering in my mind and in my heart, as if it had been there since my very beginning.

I am my own Creator, as no one has ever been able to shape me after own appearance... anyone but myself.
I am my own God, because I have always found inside me an illogical amount of life and strength. Experience has made me rich, as life has always abundantly supplied me with resources and values to be kept inside.
I am ice, as no one has ever truely melted my consciousness.
I am in denial.

Where are you? I know where you are.
Are your followers better than Me?

For Sasha

2009-02-23T07:10:00.000-08:00

How do you say your heart is raining fear,
And words are mute inside your mind?
How does the sky keep being clear,
When darkness falls upon your mind?

How do you cry in empty rhymes,
The agony that drains your life,
Long years ended all in crimes,
Small painful talks begun in strife?

How can you shout to all the Gods,
That you have cried and crawled in dirt,
That you would die for sake of odds,
That you would pay for all this hurt?

How can you look into my eyes,
Since you`ve forgotten all I`ve loved?
Your life and heart are full of lies,
Your life and heart by hell are gloved.

Just sail away and kill my dreams
With bitter words and tiny lives!
Abandon me in Sasha`s screams,
I`ll fall asleep on beds of knives.

Perfection

2009-02-14T04:35:00.000-08:00

Do you want me to be perfect? Because I can do that, so you will be pleased.
Do you want me to change my hairstyle? It is an easy way for you to breathe fresh air for a while.
Do your want me to wear contacts? They won`t hide what`s beneath the color.
Do you want me to cry? I will do that, if my tears will cover your heart with joy.
Do you want me to sell my body for you? Because I can do that to make you rich.
Do you want me to fight in a war for your name? I will do it if that makes you feel like a king.
Do you want me to go to a convent? Because in this way you will know that I`m physically clean.
Do you want me to be cool? Because I know that my universe written in huge mithril letters bores you like hell.
Do you want me to act differently than my usual self? Because I`ve got thousands of colorful masks, I went to Venice esspecially to buy them all.
Do you want me to be low? Because I know that this will make you feel better than me.

I dont want to be cool. That will kill all my unicorns.
I don`t want to be your hore. That will kill your respect for me.
I don`t want to change my hairstyle. That will teach you to accept me as I am.
I don`t want to wear contacts. That will make you see my truth.
I don`t want to be perfect. That will teach you to see your own flaws.
I don`t want to cry. That will teach you not to cry, and be strong.
I don`t want to fight your wars. That will teach you how to be a king.
I don`t want to go to a convent. That will teach you to accept your dirtiness.
I don`t want to be someone else. That will teach you to always tell the truth.
I don`t want to be low. That will teach you how NOT to hurt other people.

Truth

2009-02-13T16:16:00.000-08:00

Sometimes mind and eyes can hurt hearts, just by showing what they understand and see in people`s eyes. I know not how to handle lies. I know not how to hide the truth. I had replaced my heart with a steel one... but now it`s hurting my chest. My head is up, for I have no reason to bow to the ground. I needed warmth, but I guess it is quite late in the night to ask for that, or to endure what Gods prescribed on my recipe for happiness. Yet thirst and hunger dig huge graves into my heart, just to remind me of my souless being, or my sharp blades covered with blood and sin.

The mask I`m wearing is getting heavier, it cuts my face and makes me despicable to myself and to my mirrors. Queens must be tought the lesson of betrayal, girls should be tought the lesson of maturity and women should be tought the lesson of modesty. People should be tought the lesson of life. Space and time are the synonims of virtue, as long as logics and common sense are two ciggaretes that are to be smoked in one corner of a dark room.

My age is not my heart, and my mind is not my education. My words are not my happines, but my tears, my disgust of so much false joy. I may forget the taste of sharp blades, or honor, or dignity, as humans always seem to forget the true sense of life. My words are just mere children playing in the grass. I just hope their tiny feet won`t be cut by all the blades and glasses hidden beneath the leaves.

井の中の蛙大海を知らず。

Letter To The People

2009-02-13T00:32:00.000-08:00

dear people, I woke up this morning, had about 2 cups of coffee made from the dirty water that I left on the desk last night. It tasted like shit... esspecially that I dropped a cigarette in it (but that has no importance right now), yet, I don`t feel stupid enough to hate myself. After all... there can be worse.

I grabbed my coat, as I had to be at the office at 8. But the stupid cab driver didn`t trust me enough when he saw my price-charming-mornin`-face, so he decided to leave me there and drive on his own. I got scared. Actually I ran back upstairs and watched myself in a mirror... and I thought that I really look like shit... yet, I don`t feel stupid enough to run away from myself, after all... there can be worse.

Ok, so I was late for bloody work. I ran all the way to the office with people watching me strangely, asking themselves why the fuck I would run like a schizofrenic raped by a doney. I kept asking myself, if they were in a hurry, if my rush was lame, if they forgot that they do that every morning too, and despite that, they seemed quite surprised by me. So, when I got to the office, instead of going directly to the desk, I end up in the bathroom, poo-ing and peacefully thinking if I was wrong and people from the streets was right. Conclusion, I was neither wrong, nor stupid to run away from myself, after all, there can be worse.

I finally got to my desk. Papers, sheets, toilet paper, people... everywhere. Phone ringing, messages, myself. I`m focused. More focused than ever. I feel like crystal clear with myself. I have no reason to run away, to hide, to chase ghosts. I am free. And I am not stupid. And not running away anylonger.

Faithfully,
Lady Arwen

Don`t step over my dreams

2009-02-04T10:27:00.000-08:00

It`s so difficult for elves to learn how to hide their faces as they`ve never been tought to wear masks. Mirrors know not how to tell lies, nor to hide away what`s obvious to the human kind. Elves have strong minds, but delicate souls... one noisy pain in human mind can brake them easily. An elf with a broken soul dies slowly. He learns the lie, the loneliness, the agony and the despair.

So don`t step over my dreams... you will brake them with your footsteps.

Reverence to Life

2008-12-07T16:12:00.000-08:00

If one hits you and knocks you down, you stand up, if you can, but never fight back. Otherwise the cicle of violence will not be broken, and it will be taken far into the future, till the human kind finds no healing for their inner poisons.

Absolute.

Ramnovele

2008-11-25T07:56:00.001-08:00

De cand ma stiu mi-am dorit sa ma fac regizor. Regizorii de telenovele sunt cei mai fericiti. De ce? Pai e foarte foarte simplu: telenovelele au succes, ele nasc prossstiuni discrete de obsesie a puterii in cele mai secrete colturi de universuri psihotce... muuuuulti nebuni pe lumea asta.
Si-am zis sa ma apuc sa fac o telenovela... alea cu sudamericani sunt deja expirate, fumate... asa ca m-am gandit sa iau 3 doalri la mine sa inchiriez 5 mp in Togo si sa filmez acolo... un rinocer care se combina cu o pantera nascuta talent, imbatranita speranta.
Folosindu-ma de actori negri cu nume ciudate nici n-o sa se prinda nimeni ca realitatea cruda este sub scenariul infect... de fapt scenariul are rolul umil si de bun simt sa ascunda, repare si sa ridice reputatii pretioase pierdute in urma razboaielor dintre spitalele de nebuni.
Daca guvernul togolez mi-ar refuza propunerea tentanta, cred ca m-as combina la o telenovela porno, telenovela asiatica, creionata frumos in decoruri de bambus, cu ursuleti panda si ... daca stau bine sa ma gandesc, m-ar costa o nimica toata: 4 centi pe luna de filmare. As putea turna un serial cu 50 de serii a cate 40 de episoade si-as bate la cur orice soap-opera de cariera respectabila. Iar daca ursul panda ar presta cu ochisorii mici si blanzi pe placul beneficiarilor... probabil c-as scoate si ceva bani.

Auziti? Da` nu e mai bine sa fac un concurs de spermatozoizi? Cu 2 variante ajutatoare... ca pe ram sa moara cici e la moda zilei: suna un prieten si intreaba publicul. Culmea... ai fi surprins sa capeti raspunsul corect din partea publicului... majoritar .

Pana la urma care spermatozoid a ajuns primul? Cred ca cel care s-a intalnit cu un acarian necrofil... care tot mergand prin cimitire de amintiri a dat peste fecalele unei relatii moarte si-a- nceput sa scarmene cu o curiozitate morbida poate-poate o sa se loveasca de vreun argument care sa-i readuca erectia... dar deh... n-a fost sa fie!!

Autocritica

2008-11-24T20:30:00.000-08:00

Hai sa-ti cant o dulce amintire
Despre trecut, prezent si viitor,
Sa-ti regasesti cuvinte si-armonie,
Sa uiti usor de sihastrie,
Sa poti sa te desprinzi in zbor.

Pe coala alba ce ti-ai asternut in fata,
Inghetul iti sugruma azi cuvantul.
Nu stii sa sufli sau sa ceri povata
Si nici sa te compatimesti, paiata,
Trecutul tau te spulbera ca vantul.

Cenusa ta nu-i calimara, nici cerneala,
Nici crivatul nu vrea s-o fure.
Alergi si cauti in trecut rivala,
In ura, agonie, cruda fala,
Si uiti sa cerni cuvintele obscure.

Ridica tocu-nsangerat de vreme
Si-asterne iar frumoase simtaminte,
Inchide-n vers tentatii vechi, perene,
Prefa-le-n ape dulci, viclene,
Ingroapa-ti teama-n sute de morminte.

Nicicand n-ai sa mai poti rani,
Petala ce ti-ai ingropat departe.
Decat in rime lungi sa scrii
De zambet si de ochi puri de copii,
Ridica tocul, scribe, fugi de moarte.

Retard eminescian

2008-11-24T19:57:00.000-08:00

Hai sa-ti impletesc in priviri
dulci-albastre-suave amintiri,
sa-ti cant, sa-ti rad a fericire,
sa-ti conturez pe buze implinire.

Ti-e teama de-ai amorului fiori,
in care tot mustesti singuratati si zori,
inlantuind miracole si cast,
ce-ti izvorasc soptind a fast.

Imagineaza-ma in rauri si suvoaie argintii,
ce rar itesc in curcubeuri vii
si nori albastri de-armonie
pe un crampei de bucurie.

Ma iarta, dar, de mi-e atat de teama
sa nu patrund in efemera faima
de om-neom ce-si trage slab tristete
din scoarte acre si povete.

Mi-e frica si amar de suferinta,
a mea, a ta si-a lui, de nazuinta
si de blesteme aruncate in stihii,
de oful tau si-ale trecutului stafii.

Nu stiu sa-ti spun mai bine-acum
ce mult as vrea, cat timp, cat drum
de strabatut ar fi. Dar stiu ca mor
incet si lent de tine si de-al tau fior.

Nu ma pricep sa strig mai tare,
sa chem intregul cor de ingeri si chitare,
sa-ti spuna ei si sa-ti arunce-n zare
ghirlande stravezii de ganduri clare.

Imperfect

2008-11-24T19:51:00.001-08:00

Citeste-mi pacatul ca pe-o virtute
Si-mpleteste-l cu ura ce-o simti,
Amestec-apoi 3 stele pierdute
Si scrie-mi un stih in care minti:

Ca m-ai iubit, ca vei iubi mereu,
Ca ti-am fost inger, demon, vis,
C-ai sa ma regasesti in tril de ateneu,
Si-ai sa iubesti postura de proscris.

Nicicand eu nu voi sangera atat cat n-am
Nicicand n-am sa ma mai ridic la rang de sfant.
Sunt doar un vis incest in miez de hram,
Sunt doar un starv trandav far` de cuvant.

Eu aripi ca sa zbor nu am avut,
Nu stiu decat sa tavalesc iubiri,
In foc sa mistui pulberi din trecut,
Sa ma hranesc stupid si inutil cu amintiri.

Alfa si Omega

2008-11-24T19:44:00.001-08:00

Batranete si singuratate

2008-11-24T19:42:00.002-08:00

Doar in cazul in care uiti, dar nu numai atunci, fiecare zi din viata are rolul de a-ti aminti ca momentele care se scurg chiar si acum, in timp ce scriu aceste cuvinte, au pretul lor, pe care-l platesti amarnic de cu dobanda in viitorul incert al sfarsitului de viata.
Ironia sortii este ca fiecare individ joaca un rol dezamagitor pt. o persoana din viata sa, urmand ca la randul lui, acest individ sa fie dezamagit la randul sau. Existam pt. ca viata vrea sa ne demonstreze cate ceva la fiecare, ceva din care teoretic, ar trebui sa invatam, iar in egala masura, pretul invataturii, consta in rolul nostru de a-i face pe altii sa inteleaga.

Cat de stupid... pana una alta aflam ca tot noi pe noi ne invatam ce inseamna sa evoluezi, raportand la infinit, generatie dupa generatie, oglinda dupa oglinzi, puse fata in fata pentru a reda o infinitate de planuri, asa cum exista o infinitate de ganduri, idei, orizonturi posibile sau fictive catre care ne intindem degetele...

Elfii nu au degete de intins, dar in negurile vremurilor risca sa invete sa regrete de la oameni.

Unicitatea lucrurilor este data, probabil, de relativitate. Simplitatea lor e complexitate si viceversa.

2008-11-24T19:42:00.001-08:00

Cum armurile ii ruginisera in meditatiile interminabile pana in zorile duskului, realizase ca Innadril cunostea pe propria sa infatisare, eternul curent al comercializarii. Nimic sacru, templele fusesera devastate de venetici bezmetici si docti in a moraliza elderii. Asa ca se ridicase de langa Copacul Mama si pornise in cautarea unor fantasme uitate pe un fund de ocean. Unicornii murisera in bataliile pentru suprematie ale zonelor iar entii se retrasesera undeva, in vai indepartate, in vietile lor.
Crafterii isi uitasera mestesugurile iar shillien elderii devenisera niste fete corupte si impasibile la nimicul care devasta ceea ce fusese odata, demult o cetate sfanta a principiilor. Frunze ruginii i se prelingeau pe langa obrajii transparenti. O intalnise acum cateva zile pe orca nebuna... se ocolisera reciproc, deoarece nu-si doreau vreun conflict in astfel de momente de cumpana. In momentele de pace dintre ele doua lumea ruginea in esenta si-si uniformiza fondurile, fara vreo forma, fara vreun continut. Se incetineau reciproc. Zeita apelor uscase toate fantanile, iar Pa`agrio impietrise in sufletul orcai...
Ridica-te, Shillien cel argonat si binecuvanteaza rasele cu un razboi... poate in felul acesta aliantele nu vor fi sterse in totalitate de un vid sec si lipsit de istorie.

Cultul disocierii

2008-11-24T19:41:00.002-08:00

Dintre firele de iarba niciodata nu vor rasari diamante, la fel cum dintr-o dominatie conflictuala nu vor ramane prea multi lideri in picioare. Daca poti face o disociere prin asociere, atunci valoarea antonimica, strict legata de pretentiile Acadaemiei Romane, isi pierde sensul din punct de vedere filosofic, semantic si isi prinde inteleptii in flagrant delict.
Gloria lui Pa`agrio aduce cu sine asocierea, iar la inceputurile lumii, cand acesta si-a inzestrat discipolii cu prostie cat cuprinde, dar cu o robustete fizica demna de invidiat, nu s-a gandit catusi de putin la viitor sau la consecinte, inlaturand definitiv din ipoteza sa unicitatea fiecarui caracter.
Pa`agrio a fost un aliat perfect, a construit aliante perfecte. Supusii sai insa, in zarile obscure ale viitorului prezent, s-au lovit de boli si furii, singuratati si impotente care aduc orice orc normal in pragul nebuniei.

Castelul Innadril fusese sub asediu mai bine de 4-5 luni, or rosturile sale, care-l legau de semintia lui Pa`agrio erau periclitate. Neamul orcesc isi pierdea capacitatea de a intelege, odata cu ea si ratiunile unei vieti cursive. Stelele intunecate incetosau privirele warcryer-ilor, ei nu mai puteau citi viitorul, iar fara ei, overlorzii nu mai stiau sa faca aliante. Pa`agrio disparea lent din semintia lor, in timp ce Innadril, crezand ca infloreste, era din ce in ce mai innegurat. Isi mutasera ghilda in Aden, care avea o stralucire mult prea superficiala, arata precum un inel elfesc, pus pe manuta unui copilas de dwarf in timp ce spargea mithril ore in hrubele Moriei. Lumea se schimbase fara ca cineva sa simta acest lucru, iar vanturile lui Miazanoapte fluturau drapelele gresite pe meterezele celor care preuasera aceasta lume si-o adusesera la picioarele fiicei lui Shillien.
Razboaiele reci pustiisera clanurile marete ale vremurilor demult uitate, lorzii nesocoteau onoarea cavalerilor, corectitudinea si curatenia, intesand pe piepturile adeptilor decoratii si premii, aruncate precum niste artificii menite sa te orbeasca, pentru a nu vedea mocirla care zace sub cetatile altadata pline de fala.

Timp de 3 saptamani se trezea plina de sudoare din acelasi vis, cu mana gigantica a lui Shillien cel arogant, raspandind fulgere albastrui si dantele intunecate. ba chiar remarcase ca, intr-un din zile, isi uitase fisturile undeva in trecut, caci niciodata nu se gandise ca va trebui sa priveasca la lumea ei cum se prabuseste in poala celor care aruncasera blestemele si bolile asupra neamului ei, zambind siret si arborand un drapel alb intentiilor bune cu care le-au fost pavate spiritele.
Pe masura ce astepta sa-i rasara iarasi amulte pretioase din iarba acum uscata, avea sa realizeze ca Pa`agrio traia in fiecare din ei... dar ca nu Lui ii statea in putere sa se trezeasca, ci lor... aducandu-si aminte de onoare, demnitate si consideratie.

Breakable limits of friendship

2008-11-24T19:41:00.001-08:00

In momentul in care privesti intr-un orb, trebuie sa fii incredintat ca ceea ce faci este departe de limitele discretiei. Elfii nu se prea uita in orb-uri, ei au lumea lor precum un club privat cu circuit inchis, lume in care interactioneaza, iubesc, adora, domina si sunt dominati, accepta si trec cu vederea, chiar daca aceste lucruri sunt total invizibile pentru lumea superficiala a oamenilor.
Elfii nu au nume, nu au nevoie de nume, ei se simt, isi intuiesc dorintele si-si daruiesc candoarea. Statutul de elder ii invata ce este daruirea, onoarea si detasarea. Uimirea pe care o traiesc pana atunci in ceea ce-i priveste pe oameni si firile lor duale inceteaza. Nu au puterea sa urasca... ci doar sa iubeasca si sa ierte.
Oamenii sunt tineri, nu stiu a cerceta in suflete, nu stiu a iubi cu mintea si cu sufletul. Ei iubesc cu trupul si cu varful degetelor, crezand ca senzatiile incep in varful limbii si se termina odata cu mainile. Oamenii mint, cu ochi frumosi care nu stiu sa fie oglinzi... oamenilor nu le prea plac elderii, caci ei sunt oglinzi crude ale interiorului, nu-ti arata niciodata ce vrei sa vezi, ci exact ceea ce nu vrei sa vezi din tine. Exista poate un neam binecuvantat cu viata lunga, de vita nobila, veche, care mai stie despre caile legilor din vechime. Si ei sunt oglinzi, dar sunt atat de rari, caci doua oglinzi puse fata in fata te duc intr-o multitudine de posibilitati.
Tu ce esti? Elf sau om-oglinda? Eu sunt elf... tie ti-e frica sa te uiti la mine?

Dilema zilei: banii sau viata?

2008-11-24T19:40:00.000-08:00

Pentru mine nu este o dilema, n-a fost niciodata, stiu cu siguranta ce aleg. In fond si la urma urmei niciodata nu mi-a tinut mancarea de foame. Pe masura ce inaintez in viata, descopar aceasta certitudine depasind cu mult pragul de 100%. Gasesc satisfactie in lucruri simple si calde, imi repugna reusita financiara, faima si cochilia aceea stravezie de goddess care-mi este alocata, alaturi tronand mandre pupincurismele si falsul.
Sunt atat de putini oameni care spun ceea ce gandesc, iar procentul celor care au demnitatea sa asculte si sa multumeasca este si mai mic. Incep sa-mi pun probleme serioase legate de felul personal de a gandi... sunt cam cu susul in jos... si cam scuip contra vantului. Acum ramane de vazut cam cat ma vor tine reflexele sa ma feresc de revers.

High and mighty alone we are kings
Whirlwinds of fire we ride
Providence brought us the crown and the ring
Covered with blood and our pride

May Gods watch upon our misery!

Innadril Castle

2008-11-24T19:38:00.000-08:00

Castelul Innadril... privesc marginea galbena a biroului, dau boxele ceva mai tare astfel incat sa rasune toata incaperea. Noroc ca si sefu` asculta cam acelasi gen de muzica... m-as baga sa cresc orca, dar de putin timp incoace nu prea mai am vreo tragere de inima. Las` ca ma sui in trunul castelului din nou, il rog pe Antharas sa ma incuie acolo, il cheama pe Valakas sa ma pazeasca. Asta cam ca o autoflagelare . In felul asta, poate, va invata lumea sa lupte in party-uri organizate, sa vina sa ma scoata de-acolo.

Orca se creste greu!! Desi este inconjurata de tot soiul de caractere, neamul Urukhai este dificil, arogant, razboinic si expansiv. Isi parjoleste pana si propriile teritorii . Un warsmith i-a zis-o la un moment dat, fara sa-si dea seama ca, orca asta prefera sa-si inghita propriul sange, decat sa-l arate scurgandu-se printre buzele verzi, asprite de prafurile din Dragon Valley. Zilele trec greu pentru orca.. Si asa este privita cu reticenta, putini sunt cei ce-i cunosc tehnicile de lupta... si, si mai putini se ingrijoreaza de prezenta ei. In general, majoritatea prefera sa rada de dansurile ei ciudate, de plansul ei ca un urlet patetic de hiena ragusita, sau de felul in care armurile ii pleznesc pe pectorali si pe bicepsi, cum pantalonii i se desira pe croitori... Deja aspectul nu o mai deranja, religia ei fusese razboiul si arta close combatului.

Acum statea sub un copac, in fata castelului pe langa care crescuse, care o veghease pe toata perioada nazbatiilor orcesti, rabufnirilor de orgoliu, satelor parjolite de dusmani fara mila, de camarazi de arme arsi si infipti in tepuse precum niste rugi negrii si putrezi... Era copacul sub care statuse ani de zile, uitandu-se inapoi cu nostalgie la castelul acela frumos si pustiit de ea, undeva in urma campaniilor ei de formare. Numai ca de data asta nu mai parea atat de pustiu... Zidurile gri, mucegaite sub ploile grele ale erelor razboaielor elfesti acum erau verzi, cu floricele dezgustatoare rasarind dintre pietrele aleii centrale... Portile nu mai erau inchise si bine pazite, chiar si impotriva ei, ci larg deschise, fara temeri, fara oprelisti. Niciodata, in confruntarile ei nu avusese vreun vrasmas care sa lase garda atat de jos... "si daca-i o capcana?" se gandi in timp ce inainta sovaielnic, cu fisturile usor deasupra soldurilor dezgolite.

In curtea de dupa poarta se jucau fluturasi ca de cuartz deasupra smocurilor de iarba de un verde albastrui... din centrul fantanii se zarea o statuie ca o mana enorma, cu un deget ridicat din care tasneau fuioare de fulgere catre inaltul cerului. Potecile erau garnisite de modele din dark mithril si felinare cu lumini albastrui.

Porni contrariata, insotita de Spiritulul Lupului catre castel, leganandu-si fisturile pe langa oblici, clatinand usor din cap, fara sa constientizeze ca undeva, in spate, copilariile ei, razboaiele ei, campaniile si parjolurile erau estompate de o maturitate egoista si exapansiva... Se intoarse si privi in trecut cu manie: un warsmith i-o spusese fara sa constientizeze ca orca niciodata nu va varsa o lacrima invazul lumii.