Writing on the walls of Barcelona...again

I wrote earlier that text called "Never been loved..enough" and a good friend of mine appreciated it. It was good. Yet, she said she wanted a happy ending. Well, happy endings are like butterflies, sweety! Keep that in mind, ok?
It is not difficult for me to write a happy ending to that text; in fact, it is the most natural thing to do. But, to be honest, I am not in the mood. You see, writing and painting for me are like therapy, like taking out, eliminating, terminating that nido de viboras inside each person's soul. I do not think that my nest is soooo big but it is quite present and, like I said before, let's burn it, literally!!
There is no need for the firemen to come or for a professional arsonist to assist us. It is quite easy. You need some wood, gasoline and a box of matches. The question:"Do you have balls to do it?" does not even exist. The question:"Is this good for me?" is stupid. Of course it is good for you, peaso imbecil!!
Enough hesitating, crying, wining, licking your wounds. Just do what you were supposed to do ages ago and live a life like you always wanted!!

Ufffffff now I am cool. I managed to start the fire hehe!! So, what is the title about no? Easy, I love Barcelona!! And I want to go back and live there. Of course, I have some accounts payable and receivable here, in Romania and I need to wait for them. And then sweet freedom!!
I am perfectly aware that the Barcelona I felt is not the same as the one dominating the Spanish coast. I am perfectly aware that I will be analyzed and dissected by the Catalan society etc. So what?? I am not there for them, I am there for myself, for my own pleasure and need.

I know I sound selfish but, up to a point, it is true. Of course I can understand and speak Catalan and I feel closer to Romania every time I hear it. Of course I will miss Romanian...quien sabe, a lo mejor mi lugar esta al otro lado del mundo...

Bona nit...Bucarest!!

Never been loved...enough

As I watched my shadow disappear into the sunset I realized how much I was going to miss it and hate it at the same time.

It was cold; the winter had been ruling our country for many centuries and yet I felt warm, perhaps because now I was free at last...or perhaps not.

I went home,I poured a glass of wine, lighted a cigar and thought about my future, my past and my present. I was not satisfied, I was unhappy, I was angry and so, oh, so sad!

I went in my bedroom and there stood a mirror. Simple and yet so powerful, that mirror had been in my family for generations and it was always accurate when it was asked anything, from the location of one shoe to the disappearance of a continent.

I looked into it and asked: "What is wrong with me?". The mirror stood in silence for eons, then smiled at me, in a sad yet tender manner and said: "You sweet and innocent soul, your shadow was your true self. Now you are not the same and all that is left of you is your capacity to hate and despise."

I was angry...and I smashed the mirror!! Then,after hours of destroying the city and burning all the houses, including the palace, I went to search for my shadow.

I won't bother you with my adventures. I only wish to say that in the end I found it, we fought like mad and in the end...I lost and my shadow ran away from me forever. With my last strenght I asked her" Why are u running away from me?" And she answered : "I've never been loved enough!".

The truth is this: I never had an experience like this and I hope never ever to have it. I wrote this text to gather my ideas and thoughts and conversations. I will not give more details but I will tell you this: in some families children are not loved enough and if the parents do not pay attention, those kids will become either assassins or monsters. Some of those children can be saved. Maybe I am here on this earth to save some of them, maybe not. The real thing here is this: I know them and I want to help them. If they want to come, let them come, I have enough time in this life to do this.I am saying this because it is not too late!


Let us be saved by love, by our love because we have enough love to give that will last for eons! If u dare not to love then it means you will probably lose every new heartbeat, every breath...and I guess u do not want that.

Have a great life and remember, even though u were not loved enough, hope is still present, even for you. Give your soul a chance!

Junio

This is a text very dear to my heart. I dedicate it to all my friends!

Junio. Empezado hoy, 9 de octubre de 2000

Until now the miracles I have witnessed have been only lies, born and raised by people whose evil feelings I do not wish to remember. Inside this mind there are strange beliefs, one of them being that I am, somehow, perfect and that my only fault is that I do the things that other do normally my way and I get punished for my rebelled gestures.

Stories already told by old fools who had the immense luck of having seen the world as I think it is have kept a special place in my memory and now, when I am old and my eyes see only inner images or my sister’s dreams, they want to expose, quite indecently, in front of my nieces and that strange and isolated being whom I call my nephew.

I really don’t know how to react to these new nightmares; maybe if I let them come out and maybe, just maybe, allow them to use my mouth just to feel free after so many nights, they will let me enjoy the rest of my life, or maybe I became too selfish and interested in reading the Bible or any other strange smelling book than to take care of all these...”problems”.

My glasses have forgotten how is to be clean and the clothes I use to wear when I met that nice and not so serious woman, who used to sing divinely and made our lives so rich, then leaving to look for another answer than I had given her are still white as the first snow and nobody knows why...

My voice is week because of so many nights filled with poems, strange stories and guitars resounding in my mind whose strange language I have tried to translate into simple words, my eyes are almost blind because of the summer nights lost in search of love and my soul is tired because I have been charging him with too many obsessions...

My fault, or should I say my faults...are many and most of them wrongly classifieds by the huge amount of voices that I’ve been hearing for the past sixty years, my hopes have remained besides me, confronting everybody and drying my lonely tears, my dreams have been nourishing me with words from other languages and gave me the possibility of seeing my so near death. Inside my dreams I am perfectly young and my health is similar to a god’s, yet the same torments habit our souls, mine because I was not strong enough to chase them and his because, in his inherent destiny, he has forgotten how to protect himself.

I might be sometimes deaf and don’t pay enough attention to all the movements that shout high in the middle of our street, I might see other things than the usual people and I might want to talk too much, but in those moments is the only thing I am good at; you strangers have understood only my soft lies and my childish poetry, but you didn’t deserved anything less...I am really sorry to say all that, but you haven’t gave me other choice!

All I wanted was to live the last moment, quiet, surrounded by innocent and no suffering memories and finally, long nights and irresponsible actions helped me to have it

©

Later that night, people came to me, with gifts for their dead and with the more than humble wish to talk to their pilgrims and I rejected all, because I wanted to show selfishness, because I wasn’t ready to leave to meet my parents and friends and, most important than everything, I was not myself entirely so I had no choice but close all windows and doors.

I almost shouted at them and, speaking in a grim and mean voice, I reminded them they didn’t deserve to come to me for the harshest reason they didn’t belong to any family I knew and I even dared to curse them for reminding me that in less than ten months I was leaving my consumed body and maybe find the last part of my own puzzle whom the earth people call” life realization.”

The strangers looked at me, nodded their strange heads (or lives) and left to their homes, somewhere in the northern part of the horizon.

I was somehow happy, yet sad, because I would have liked to torture their hearts with some horrifying predictions or with stories about my late nightmares or with some of my perfect lies...

Their shadows have haunted me a while, then mixed with the ones of my obsessions and kept me warm for the gloomy and freezing November nights, and when spring came, they have left for new projections of the same love.

Now it is June again, life is almost at its end, I am happy because I have done my things as much as I wanted and could, that my most secret wishes have remained as hidden I wanted them to be, yet I wanted more, but strangely, I wasn’t allowed, maybe next time I will be left in my peace and do those things I wasn’t able or didn’t had the time and the courage...

My name...my name is not important, neither how do I look. Just think that I am one of the many people who have decided to write not just because, but from an inner reason, the reason to evolve towards the perfect person, towards life, towards God, towards intimacy, even towards you.

Inside my dreams I am perfectly young and my health is similar to a god’s, yet the same torments habit our souls, mine because I was not strong enough to chase them and his because, in his inherent destiny, he has forgotten how to protect himself. This is how nightmares come to life in this part of the worl

Explanations? To whom do I have to explain all my actions, wishes, obsessions, intimate choices and forbidden thoughts? To you, innocent pilgrim recently arrived to the gates of Mecca?

To my still living or long time dead relatives? To my long lost love (or a mere illusion?). To my good friends? To the language teachers who had patience with my appetite for speaking those words, phrases and sweet lies and made clear to me that I had to study hard to satisfy them? Or just to myself, old and little bit stupid person who has been writing for the past 25 years all type of poetry and everything that looked like inspiration and who has been denying all help because he felt so superior?

Maybe this is my last opportunity to live tonight as never before, search for all those answers, persons, memories and lies... It’s June again, here and there, with its scents, sweating bodies and wishes.

June, who always knew what miracle to choose for me, what image would fit me in front of so many excuses called people, who almost chased so many wrong dreams.

Finally, she looked at me and I could see the people I loved and lied, blackmailed and tried to force them to obey and support me as much as I wanted, more or less willing to give something back but this happened when I was not the one you see now.

Is this the last time I would be able to live again the life so wrongly spent? Is this my last opportunity to tell you how sorry I am because I wasn’t there for you, in spite that you didn’t asked for it a lot, just preferred to play as much as you wanted and defended your new born destiny with the only purpose to impose it to the others whom have chosen you or you have chosen them, inspired by the growing fears?

I have doubts, yes, and maybe too many and too strange to be told in front of your sometimes so lonely eyes, I have questions which I do not want to ask, although they have been tormenting me since the first time I felt your soul, I have answers that none has asked me about and I have solutions for all kind of problem, yet nobody decided to come to my strange looking house and ask them with nothing in return.

Now I am alone, waiting for the last call and hoping that, somehow, I will be forgiven by everybody and my memory will remain almost stainless for the remaining years!

I really want it and, as a last action of selfishness, I want it perfect although I know it to be more than impossible. Maybe I was wrong in thinking that you were the perfect choice and now I see you as the second best choice...I wonder why these reasons haunt me so much than before the last orange rain; maybe I am getting old and somehow silly, or in the worst of the cases, useless? I hope to be very wrong and I still wait for that third chance, the one with blue eyes and childish-mature smile, with the so calm voice...my God, I think I am going crazy because of so much loneliness!

I would love to be able to cry again; maybe by doing this, the dark and industry-designed room will not become so ugly and ill-mannered, maybe the dusk will not terrify as much as before, when I was young and eager to conquer new worlds and images in the name of a strange feeling called love, this time my night is heavy and rough, because someone or something has decided that one last torture will be fine and brought in front of my old and silly eyes so many nightmares and I realized he knew that I was powerless to confront them and their horrifying relatives, I remembered that I was alone because I wanted to, yet somehow knowing that I would need all the help in the world to face them and I denied friendship, family-belonging feelings and ideas, optimistic projects, private images of the people whom I loved in my manner, and even worse, my parent’s help!

This is my story. To those who knew me and cared a little about my conflicts, doubts, wishes, feelings and dreams, thank you and please, remember me from time to time, when June comes again in your life; I am not asking you to support my cause in front of the Supreme Judge; I am only asking for a little bit of immortality and those small pieces will form my bed and I will sleep smiling, like a baby until the next time June comes here, in this forgotten by death and time place and brings me back to life...

O opinie intre opinii

Homo hominis lupus...A trebuit sa scriu un articol pentru o revista de specialitate, nu dau nume. Cica proba. Am scris ceva frumos, le-a placut si cica mai scrie ceva...si aia nu a mers. M-a mirat ca nu au zis ca nu e bine, ca nu nimic. Dar eu am gasit articolul si il postez aici. Se numeste HOMO PUBLICISTICUS.

"Dupa multe cercetari, analize, lecturi si vizionari de clipuri publicitare, filme si videoclipuri, am ajuns la concluzia ca in Romania a aparut de ceva vreme o noua specie: homo publicisticus. Sincer, nu mi-a fost prea greu sa o identific. Principalul indiciu: romanii sunt o natie sensibila la aparente, dar cu o inclinatie naturala catre lucrurile de calitate. Asta, daca luam in calcul drumul scurt al clipului catre produs. Pe de alta parte iubitorii de publicitate sunt oameni culti, cu simtul umorului care nu neaparat alearga la magazin dupa incheierea calupului publicitar, care nu se comporta neaparat precum consumatorii infocati de branduri sau de sloganuri.

Mai mult, comportamentul cu tendinte imitative a existat din cele mai vechi timpuri dar, pentru Romania, proaspat integrata in structurile europene si eliberata de sub jugul comunismului, provocarea cea mai mare a fost aceea de a trai in conformitate cu noi norme si reguli. Acestea includ, printre altele, consumul de publicitate, cu toate formele sale si publicitatea pentru designerii locali si internationali.

Inainte de a-i face portretul, as dori sa fac cateva precizari: pentru mine consumatorul de publicitate este, pana la un punct, identic cu cel de produse; clipurile intr-adevar sofisticate apar rar sau deloc, media preferand sa prezinte balastul; mediul consumatorilor adevarati devine unul privilegiat, deci, izolat, de aceea, daca vrem sa vedem clipuri artistice trebuie sa participam doar la evenimente special organizate... Plus, fara nici o suparare, publicitatea in zona romaneasca, in ciuda dorintelor de a fi speciala, de a fi „supra-publicitate”, are tendinte din ce in ce mai inferioare...dar asta tine de factorii economici, sociali si chiar politici... Portretul, asa cum l-am vazut in functie de categoria din care fac parte si eu, aceea de homo scrivensis, este acesta: influentat de moda, de dorinte, de necesitati, de trendurile prezentate cu atata fast de catre revistele consacrate, noul om se prezinta astfel. Varsta, intre 6 luni si maximum 75 de ani. De ce 6 luni? Sunt bebelusi ai caror parinti vor ca „al meu sa fie mai frumos” si ii cumpara tot felul de hainute, jucarii si accesorii; de asemenea, cei de 75 de ani mentionati au si ei logica lor: sunt figuri publice sau actori care vor sa arate bine.

Genul, sincer, nu prea conteaza – multimea il vede pe acela imbracat trendy, elegant si rafinat si spune „ Uite-l pe ala!”, In genul Marthei Bibescu, o persoana fara varsta, de sex incert...Categoria sociala este foarte clar definita – intelectualii rafinati, cu bun gust, directori de firme sau manageri financiari, deci segmentul superior; segmentul de mijloc si cel inferior. Ca exemplu pentru segmentul de mijloc, varii personagii din „clica moderna romaneasca”. Dupa categorie urmeaza pozitia sociala. Aceasta, bineinteles, se va imparti in doua: varul lui X, nepotul lui Y, fiul nu stiu carui mare afacerist, care tin sa ascunda lipsa unei oarecare educatii prin comportamentul usor siderant, filfizonic chiar si cei care nu au atata stralucire, dar care o cauta cu orice pret si vedetele feminine construite peste noapte. Ce isi doreste? Un procentaj din aceasta specie isi doreste, in mod natural, bani, pozitie superioara si multe-multe branduri care sa ii satisfaca dorinta de imagine perfecta sau aproape perfecta; celalalt procentaj, ei bine, nu isi doreste doar bani si pozitie si multe branduri, ci isi doreste o „zeificare” sociala de exceptie, deoarece are, well, impresia, ca este noul arbiter elegantiae.

Cum se imbraca? In general, exista doua tendinte: aceea de a combina accesoriile si hainele intr-o ordine haotica, dar care denota originalitatea si, cea de-a doua, in conformitate cu „moda” – cea in care se copiaza din revistele specializate si dupa sfaturile designerilor. Si totul pentru ratiuni psihologico-sociale care sunt create de catre publicitate. Ea fiind un produs cultural, este mai mult decat clar ca publicitorii formeaza opiniile, trendurile, etc. In concluzie, pot spune, cu mana pe inima ca ma simt ca acasa in acest ocean de marci, anunturi, trenduri, imitatii, concepte...Viva el homo publicisticus!

Taxa pe prostie, contributia pentru un viitor mai bun si...ardelenii nu?

Bueno...e la moda, din fericire pentru romani, sa existe o pensie privata care, vezi-Doamne, ne va asigura batraneti fericite si bine ghiftuite...chiar obeze daca se poa...

Daca ar fi dupa mine, nu mi-as face nici o pensie niciodata nicicand...dar nu e dupa mine. Iata un avantaj al convietuirii - nu merge cum vrea neuronul tau, merge cum vrea neuronii altora...muy raro! Sa vedem...sunt vreo 15 sau 19 "binevoitori" care sunt fffffff si extrem de preocupati de bunastarea lor, pardon, a noastra si ne invita, cam imbecilizant, agresiv si usor pervers (Da, romanii e idioti si ii putem fraieri pe barba si cu mustata..sau ceva de genul).

M-am uitat cu atentia cea mai...atenta la variile firme care se ofera sa ne asigure, daca e cazul, si un loc de veci cu televizor cu cablu, aer conditionat si acces la Internet, toaleta ecologica si telefon si fax, si toate arata foaaarteee frumosss dar...il y a des problemes...da' care sunt, care sunt?
Pai uite: cine intelege nitel arta finantelor (Financial Management) si e constient de ce invart dumnealor, o sa fie cam siderat de optiunile si marile lor calcule, de siguranta cu care prezinta solutiile economice...Da, una din persoane sunt eu si am cautat la bursa listarile catorva dintre firme. Nu dau nume. Nu arata rau, nu arata rau deloc...mai ales bursele straine de genul NYSE, etc. Dar arata bine acolo la ei...

La noi situatia e cam valeu mama mea, parul il las chel si altele!! Dar, cine stie, nu o fi citit eu bine...ca la noi la tara nu am pomenit pensii private, etc. Vorba bunicului meu,"La mine in casa ma?" Asa ca...am mers mai departe. Adica am cautat cateva dintre ele din nou si am cautat informatiile financiare...nu sunt greu de gasit dar sunt mai greu de..citit...ca sunt peste 100 de pagini. Dar in 4 luni ma descurc eu, nu?

Revin. De ce tocmai titlul acesta usor cinic, usor exotic, usor ehem...Simplu: undeva, aceasta contributie atat de laudata, pupata, gadilata pe burtica si prezentata ca salvarea poporului ales (sau ceva de genul) este o taxa pe prostie. Asa cred acuma. Maine, cand merg la unul din "salvatorii" batranetilor mele, poate nu o sa mai cred asta; omul e schimbator, trestie melancolica si fumatoare inraita (Viata e o....si o.... si de-aia fumez, ca sa-mi treaca depresia domne!)

Bun...da' ardelenii... ce e cu ei maica? Nu stiu. Serios. Au venit si ei sa vada cum arata contributia pentru un futuro mejor, sa rada de tantalaii din Regat...hopa stai ca si ei fac parte din Romania, deci radem unii de altii...mda, asa e moda neicushorule! Sa ne radem unii de altii, mai in barba, mai in mustata, mai cu gura pana la urechi, mai ranjit, mai isteric...sa radem de pensiile care sunt atat de normale in UE si atat de ireale pentru noi - de aceea probabil o sa opreasca tavalugul - nu exista resurse financiare si umane si cica exista oameni care nu sunt obligati...well, asa poate nu mai dam nici un ban si gata!

Dar nici asa nu merge. Ok, statul garanteaza o pensie. Cat de buna, cat de proasta, o garanteaza. Dar asta privata...la ce mai e buna? O grija in plus, nervi in plus, parca era si faza ca daca incetezi sa "pontezi", adio pensie...si toooot felul de griji. Capatam si un ulcer sau ceva de genul!! Iluzia unui venit in plus nu doare asa de tare.

O batranete fericita si linistita e visul oricaruia dintre noi dar ma deranjeazaaaa raaaauu ceva, mentionat si mai sus: modalitatea cu care doresc sa venim la ei. De exemplu, exista o reclama cu doua proteze dentare..sau aia cu aripile sau cu o figura publica...mda, pune-l pe Hitler sa iti faca o reclama la asigurari de viata si sigur vin oamenii hehehe!!
Mi s-a spus odata sa nu mai critic ce au facut altii si sa pun ceva in schimb. Bine, vale, uite: o reclama simpla, eleganta, cu un batran care nu se plange ca nu are pensie, ci care lauda avantajele unei pensii private, cam cum au la...stiti voi. Sau ceva de genul. Cu toate ca cea cu batranii e cam prea putin romaneasca, e mai mult straina. Uite un exemplu negativ al intelegerii culturii unei tari!!

Mda...vad ca iaaar m-am lungit cu textul hehe pardon pardon, dar cand ma apuca, apai nu ma mai pot opri. Plus ca am o muzica super care ma inspira si cam multe de spus...
Oricum, as vrea sa ma opresc. Undeva cred ca am rezolvat ce ma ardea. Si, lasand orice gluma la o parte, o sa studiez rapoartele financiare cat pot eu de bine, o sa ma uit la burse sa vedem care companie merge mai bine si o sa aleg. Repet, in 4 luni, tiempo de sobra! O sa scriu un articol dupa ce am semnat contractul in care voi lauda sau, dupa caz, "lauda" firma respectiva...sau propria prostie.

Sa ne mearga bine in viata si sa nu uitam cine suntem!!

In search of perfection.Part 1

What does perfection mean? Is it a trend, is it a religion or is it a void? Is perfection a new way of living, a new way of thinking or is it a lie and everyone is trying to be perfect without knowing what does it mean? Hmm...tough question. Let's try a "perfect" answer.

Perfection is a good, is a habit, is a possibility, is a lie, is an answer...perfection, from a certain point of view, is everything and yet nothing. I was talking to a new friend and she said "I want to be myself, without making compromises, etc." We weren't talking bt being perfect, we were talking about people's trend to be someone or something that they are not and...well, I was telling her that I wanted to be like a F1 pilot, I mean, to have his life. And she was like "What?"

It's quite easy to understand why one is willing and sometimes desperate to be different; society kinda sucks so...why not search for alternate realities. It's happening and well, it is not good. I, sometimes enter some games, RPGs for example, and become someone I am not, but I do not do it so often...the explanation - I recently rediscovered something to live for: painting.

It's a good way to start your day, with a nice, big canvas, some knives hehe (I don't know what to call them in English, but I bet u saw them at a point in some art shop) and some nice acrylics, 3D to be exact. In those moments, when I am alone and I only hear the street noises, the birds, etc, I am perfect because I connect to the Universe. In other moments, I am myself, growling and cursing my job:d and yes, meeting w my friends online or offline.

So, here is one idea of perfection. How about others? Are there perfect people? Is one more perfect than the other? Are we all perfect? Lemme see...we are told that the only perfect being is God. And I am not gonna disagree on that. I mean look, he knows all about us, he helps us when we ask for stuff and he sends us people to help us when we are in big trouble.

Some of us, impressed by this, try to be like Him and enter monasteries or meditation groups or libraries and study about it etc. Others well, they start buying books and reading what others have written about this phenomenon and even try to imitate what those people felt or even did. And that's a problem: if u imitate others than you kinda loose your chance of being closer to His perfection; at least, this is my thought.

Perfection cannot be obtained by searching while your heart is impure, full of stupid desires like these: "Oh, I wanna be God! God will give me everything if I do this! God will love me more if I pray a lot! God, God, God!"
Well...some of those people either receive gifts from Him and others risk losing their minds and even becoming aggressive. I am not gonna get a gun and shoot those fools but I am gonna
pray so I will not become like them. There is a very thin red line between true faith and madness. Some cross it without knowing, others deliberately. It's their choice, their need to be perfect. Let's just be aware!

From my point of view, perfection is like this: a person, with a good mind, not filled with the weeds and idioteces that populate our life and our environment, a good heart, without selfishness, aggressiveness, hate, envy, etc, with good and sound expectations and who is thriving to be himself or herself in every possible way.
If I dare to look at myself now, I am not very much like that person. I mean yes, I have a good heart but the others are not at 100%. But I am trying to bring them there. I haven't said anything about a great body or hair or eyes or clothes. It is quite irrelevant to say about those because if your mind is ok then everything else close to you - the "items" mentioned before- is very much ok.

So, if any of u, of us, is willing to become perfect, I have only one advice - search for something specific to you and go on that path as much as possible. I was told we make mistakes by allowing our lack of trust in our potential to kneel us, to make us useless machines. It's true, unfortunately. And some of us cannot be longer saved. But the rest, our future children, even ourselves can try and must prevail.

That's why I am ending this article with the wish for us to be perfect and stay perfect forever!! God is next to us, loving, helping and pushing us forward. Let's go with this flow and become ourselves!!

Sa ne cunoastem mai bine...

Astazi am avut o discutie foarte interesanta cu un personagiu, se stie cine...si ii spuneam ca eu imi stiu unii prieteni dar nu ii cunosc. Raspunsul a fost prompt - sa facem o carte de sociologie! Well...in Romania de azi sociologia trebuie sa fie un produs foarte bine pregatit, prezentat si vandut. Dar asta nu inseamna ca unul nu are voie sa incerce, nu?

De cele mai multe ori ne uitam in oglinda (Oglinda ranjeste tacuta...) si ne dam seama ce frumoase fiinte suntem Dar, de cele mai multe ori, cel sau cea care te priveste din oglinda nu este eu-l tau real, ci imaginea pe care o vad altii. Introspectia lucida e la moda, dar costa. Vizitele la psiholog sunt extrem de la moda, dar costa si alea de mai bine te duci trei zile prin carciumi si baruri, te faci pulbere si apoi vii acasa si faci scandal. Dar...si asa te costa bani.

Ce ne facem, fetelor?? Sincer, exista doua optiuni - una safe si una mai putin...safe. Cea safe este sa stam de vorba cu un prieten, cel mai bun prieten care exista pentru noi, sa ii varsam sacul de probleme in cap, sa asteptam un raspuns pozitiv si sa ii multumim. Exista si un manual de instructiuni pentru situatii de genul acesta. Iata cateva: prietenul sa fie avertizat prin mail, sms sau telefon ca vine taifunul emotional, locul de intalnire si confesiune sa fie neutru, sa se achizitioneze o sticla de vin si ceva de mancare, un pachet-doua de tigari, telefoanele sa fie inchise si parintilor sa li se spuna ca merge la manastire... Dupa ce procesul a avut loc, prietenul trebuie sa fie recompensat cumva: o imbratisare de urs, un pupic pe obraz, o multumire sincera, din toata inima, o promisiune ca nu se va repeta situatia prea curand si...promisiunea ca acum ne simtim mai bine. Reactia prietenului nu o mai scriu pentru ca se cunoaste.

Optiunea mai putin safe...o spun pentru cei care sunt mai slabi psihic, este aceea de a discuta cu propria constiinta. Acest lucru se poate face, dar...riscurile sunt urmatoarele: declansarea unei crize de nervi puternice, cu acuzatii dure, cu injurii grave, cu telefoane date la manie, insotite de urlete si lacrimi, ruperea unor relatii care tin de ani de zile...si multe altele.

Spuneam mai sus de cei mai slabi psihic. Nu vreau sa insult, Doamne-fereste, dar atrag atentia ca trebuie sa se pregateasca foarte mult pentru aceasta "cautare", aceasta explorare interna care costa atat de mult dar care, folosita cum trebuie, aduce satisfactii nebanuite. La unii pot aparea peste noapte, la altii dupa ceva timp...la unii deloc..si atunci avem o problema...

Daca rezultatele nu au aparut absolut deloc inseamna ca respectiva curatare nu s-a facut complet, deci punctele dureroase nu au fost identificate corect si nici rezolvate corect. Acuma exista varii solutii: mersul la biserica (acolo se concentreaza cel mai mult energia), rugaciune sincera si incredere in Dumnezeu, rugaciune acasa in liniste, mersul la psihiatru sau cautat in continuare.

In orice caz, aceste situatii prezentate mai sus sunt partial teoretice, partial reale. Sinele unui om nu poate fi vazut intotdeauna de catre ceilalti, nu poate fi judecat, nu poate fi insultat. Respectat poate, cu conditia ca acel om sa fie in concordanta cu sinele lui si sa nu se lase in voia instinctelor primitive. Exista oameni asa, i-am vazut. Emit o lumina fantastica, o liniste, o incredere cum nu prea vezi deobicei. Exista oameni care au un sine mai intunecat, mai obsedat, mai speriat sau chiar mai crud si, din pacate, se cam vede...

Oricum ar fi, posibilitatea cautarii propriei naturi si chiar a unor raspunsuri la probleme se afla in noi, in sinele nostru, in celula noastra de baza. Unele carti ofera raspunsuri neasteptate, altele sperie; exista carti care te schimba in bine sau in rau...propria noastra constiinta decide ce trebuie sa facem doar ca noi, cateodata, facand uz de liberul arbitru, gresim... ERRARE HUMANUM EST, PERSEVERARE DIABOLICUM...

Dragilor, dragelor, am scris acest eseu inspirata de fraza mea de azi dupa-amiaza si sper ca, intr-un viitor apropiat, sa ne cunoastem cu totii mai bine, atat pe noi insine cat si pe cei din jurul nostru. Fiecare om este o insula se spune. Eu una spun ca fiecare dintre noi poate fi un continent si impreuna putem reusi sa facem o planeta asa cum trebuie.

O seara frumoasa, o viata frumoasa si o "cunoastere" frumoasa va doresc!!

Latest fashions

Lately I am very fond of people. Not special people, like the VIPs, or not so special people like thieves or obese ones...I am fond of those who want to make a difference in this world, of those who do not and will not surrender, of those who realize that art is one of their highest and most important reason of living, their only path to follow...

In Romania, in 2007, if you look from two perspectives, you realize the following: on one hand there are individuals who deny everything and everyone, strive to survive and sacrifice everything and, thank God, there are a few who do not wish to lose their soul. This, I think, should be the latest fashion: searching for your soul, for your reason to be, for your inner balance, for your truth. It is very easy to become someone that you are not and it is much more difficult to become the one you were supposed to be. People might say "Yeah, it's easy to say all that, but how do you do it?". Well..one way is to start going to the church. I am not kidding - church is good for the soul, good for the mind.

Of course, you can always pray at home, without being annoyed and even shocked by the behavior of others next to you (women crawling..etc). Church is a great exercise for the spirit with the sole condition that you go there alone, whenever you feel lost or scared and need an answer. There are some who make of this a sort of second religion and even a second life...and that is soo bad. I mean, all of a sudden, your parents, your aunts etc are going to the church more than once a week and when they come back their faces shine and they feel content...and yet, up to a point, I think they are empty.

Why are they empty? Easy: each human being has a small amount, like a grain of sand, of divinity in his/her soul. And that grain, if treated properly, can become a seed and then a beautiful flower. Our soul is either like a beautiful garden who needs to be taken care of or like an terrible and huge desert or like the sea in winter...approaching God in a proper manner helps each of those to become what they trully are and yet, abusing this approach can lead to destroying everything.

I am sure that God has given us the possibility of helping our grain to become a seed and then that flower but how many of us are aware of that and how many are willing?
That is one of those question I cannot yet answer because I haven't seen my flower yet. Still, I can try answering: each of us has something to do on this earth. Some are here to learn, others to receive a punishment...quien sabe? In any case, that grain/seed is there, and it's patiently waiting for us to find it and take care of it.

What was that "proper approach" thing no? Well...to be honest, I kinda have an issue there. From my point of view, we are human beings, with brains, ability to speak, to use our reason, etc. God is almighty, God is perfect and God loves us and I do not recall in any holy writings "instructions" that say crawl and bark in front of Him. I respect and fear Him but this does not mean that I will crawl like the others or make the sign of the cross in that odd way I've seen lately.

Yes..this is one of the latest fashions and unfortunately I kinda know why it has appeared: the need of balance, the need to feel at peace...and I dare to say this is an abuse. I know, it's bad to judge people but this is one of the things I dislike about religion - the fact that it has allowed man to go beyond everything. But, thank God, there are different attitudes and sane minds who do not share the others' crazy way of showing respect. And that's a great fashion!

I wanted to write more...maybe I will, but now I really have to leave for home and think about church, God, fashions and obsessions.

Be safe, be lucky and be loved!!

Sa "ne" radem cu bine

Nu am mai ras de mult si acum am ocazia:din folclorul muntenesc si cu aprobarea Discovery Channel, va transmit (da,unii poate le stiu dar eu nu le stiam chiar pe toate) cateva strofe pline de mustul creatiei si imaginatiei:

PE UN CAMP CU VIORELE
CRESTEA NUMAI GHIOCEI
SI-A VENIT MANDRELE MELE
SI LE-A CULES EI PE TOTI

CRESTE IARBA, IARBA DEASA
....PERPENDICULAR PE CASA
VINE CALUL SI O PASTE...
ALTA IARBA SE DEZVOLTA

SI DIN BOLOVANI CU APA
S-AU FORMAT INSPRE APUS
MUNTII TAI DE INCRETIRE
ORIENTATI CU VARFU-N SUS

Si iata un clasic nemuritor:
INTR-O BALTA NEAGRA
PATRU OCHI LUCESTE
CE SA FIE OARE?
CRED CA E DOI PESTE.

ORICUM, M-AM CAM TAVALIT PE JOS DE ATATA RAS DECI VA INVIT SI PE VOI LA ACELASI LUCRU. IN LUMEA ASTA ZAPACITA SI ZALUDA, CATEODATA E BINE SA GASIM TRAZNAI LINGVISTICE CUM SUNT CELE DE MAI SUS, SA LE CITIM, SA NE RADEM BINE SI SA LASAM, MACAR SI PENTRU CINCI SECUNDE, DEPRESIILE SI NECAZURILE SA DOARMA.

In vizita la varul Totev

Dobar den! Buna ziua! Limba bulgara este o adevarata provocare pentru noi, ginte latina cu sange clasic. Dar pentru impatimitii de limbi straine (persoanele de fata se includ), este o placere deoarece nu seamana cu nimic din ce am auzit pana acum (mda...oare cum o fi limba vorbita de nativii din Hawaii sau Australia?).

Oricum ar fi, azi o sa va povestesc despre primii pasi in Bulgaria. Da, stiu, multi au fost recent, altii acum mai bine de 20 de ani dar eu am fost prima data si a fost intr-adevar altceva.
Obisnuita cu conditiile de la noi, imaginea orasului Ruse a fost una normala, condimentata cu emotiile primei vizite. Oameni normali, muzica occidentala (nu se putea altfel), saraci care cer de pomana, vanzatoare tupeiste (si usor agresive), o Dunare nu atat de diferita fata de a noastra, o atmosfera plictisita dar normala pentru o zi de sambata.

Drumul pana acolo e simplu - pe Soseaua Giurgiului (reparata binisor) vreo ora si un pic, vama rapid, vreo 200 de mii taxa noastra la pod (frumos pod, apropo), 10 euro la ei taxa de intrare (12 leva), drumuri cu restrictii de viteza, peisaje usor salbatice, indicatoare mult mai explicite decat ale noastre, Metro identic cu al nostru, mai ieftin ce-i drept, dar ii lipsesc produse care la noi se gasesc...un comentariu fata de anumite elemente inferioare ale societatii - un scandal provocat de un individ, nu dau nume nici rasa, dar se intelege; se explica si atitudinea reticenta a forurilor inalte fata de ei si de noi ca natie...atitudinea in general sfidatoare a romanului care de-abia asteapta sa isi etaleze euroii in fata bulgarului care moare de foame dupa ce munceste 12 ore...nici nu ma mira ca sunt reticenti fata de noi

Am intalnit si exemple bune - un taximetrist care ne-a condus inspre centru - amabil dar distant dar nu conteaza foarte mult, o ospatarita (singurul restaurant ok din cate am vazut e Happy, chiar in centru, un pic mai sus de monumentul lor in cinstea eroilor Razboiului de Independenta) - e o constructie faina, cu doi lei, unul care rupe lanturile sclaviei si altul care calca in picioare semiluna otomana...si cate TIR-uri turcesti trec prin Bulgaria...

Meniul la Happy in limba romana a fost o surpriza placuta iar mancarea foarte buna, nu a costat o avere, vreo 30 de leva (daca 1 euro era 1,94 leva..) in rest pe straduta principala magazine peste magazine (nu am avut timp de toate dar sunt ok...panica e destul de palpabila cand ne vad intrand), e unul cu geci de piele superbe dar "madam, nimnojo(cam asa a pronuntat) - nu a putut sa fie mai romanca..asta e...la prochaine fois perhaps yes no? Am gasit si niste blugi frumosi...incaltamintea cam ciudata, adica de fapt, foarte romaneasca...dar halva la conserva nu am vazut in viata mea hehehe am si cumparat, e foarte buna!

Per total, a meritat "zborul" pana acolo. Atentie doar la restrictiile de viteza - vajnica politie romana a facut cercetari si a investit o groaza de bani si a acceptat faptul ca in vichend lumea o mai calca pe la 90-100, 100 si ceva in localitati. Centura de siguranta sa fie pusa preventiv, nu se stie niciodata cand gasiti un aparator al ordinii si armoniei traficului pus pe...politie!
Inca ceva: bani mici la voi, indiferent daca sunteti in Romania sau in Bulgaria - in general nu prea au bancnote mari.

Asa ca, dragilor si dragelor, in orice sambata vreti voi, urcati-va in masina si mereti in Bulgaria, merita. Mai schimbati aerul nitel. Si o ultima recomandare: o harta buna si invatati cateva cuvinte in bulgareste. Motivul: asa cum noi ne extaziem de americanul care spune cu accent saxono-colonial "Bona dziua!" asa se bucura si ei cand aud un "Dobar den!"

Teoria sunetului mut

In fiecare dimineata incerc sa ajung la Gregorys din Unirii sa beau o ciocolata calda si sa ma relaxez un pic inainte de servici. Si, paradoxal si usor cinic, nu reusesc. Nu din cauza somnului sau a altor cauze necunoscute, ci din cauza unui sunet mut, care ma impinge inapoi in pat, la caldurica si liniste. Oricum ar fi, eu continui sa incerc pana cand, intr-o zi, o sa ajung acolo si o sa stau cam o jumatate de ora si o sa imi pun ordine in idei.

Ideea titlului a venit aproape pe...neauzite, fara sa ma gandesc prea mult la consecintele si compartimentele in care trebuia sa il "inregistrez"...asa e viata, neica. Un sunet mut, un sunet calm, un sunet ideal, de care toti avem nevoie si pe care toti il cautam, adesea aiurea, pentru ca nu prea stim unde este...

Initial ma gandisem la un capitol de roman dar mi-am dat seama, dupa ce am citit si eu ce am scris mai devreme, ca nu era cazul sa o fac pe detectiva americano-romana din pura placere de a fi interesanta. Asa ca am decis sa rescriu articolul dintr-un punct de vedere nitel mai filosofic.

Am fost intrebata, pe muteste bineinteles, de ce nu fac politica pe blogul meu. Raspunsul oficial este ca nu e cazul. Cel neoficial este acesta:intr-adevar, nu este cazul. De ce sa copiez eu ideile din alte bloguri, de ce sa fac din el un portal de polemici si discutii agresive, de ce sa il "improsc" cu inutilitati cand il vreau neutru pana la ultimul atom?

Tendintele actuale sunt tare ciudate (din punctul meu de vedere) - explicatii fugare, polemici in cantitati industriale, lipsa unei organizari sociale corecte, etc dar undeva se cauta o revenire la o ordine, la o armonie dar la nivel destul de intim...si asta e bine...pana la un punct. Familia este celula societatii si vad cum apar familii din ce in ce mai tinere, care cauta sa se uneasca in fata "Gheonoaiei" socio-culturalo-economice, familii care se iubesc sau nu, familii care necesita "ingrijiri speciale" din partea parintilor si tot felul de alte familii.

Oricum ar fi, in toata harmalaia asta urbana, undeva eu ca om incerc sa supravietuiesc. Nu ma zbat, nu ma plang, nu ma jelesc (parafrazare dupa Mihaela Ceausescu - sa ii cititi cartea, nu e rea dar are un ton cam prea personal pentru gustul meu) dar vreau, de asemenea, sa si lupt. Nu pentru gloria care nu dureaza nici macar 3 secunde, nu pentru banii care, neingrijiti, dispar si iti smulgi parul din cap, nu pentru o pozitie sociala superioara (una din cele mai riscante in Romania actuala). Lupt pentru mine, pentru integritatea mea morala, cea sociala si pentru acel sunet mut care imi asigura o liniste interioara cum nu am avut pana acum. Si, paradoxal, pana acum, acest sunet minunat era un urlet mut...

Experienta barcelonezo-catalano-romana

Bon dia, nois i noies! Dupa cautari extinse si editari mentale, am realizat ca prima versiune a articolului era cam saracuta si am decis sa reviu. In fond, e experienta mea deci trebuie sa sune mult mai bine decat un articol scurt si sec, copiat parca dintr-un ghid de la 1800...

Barcelona, din multe puncte de vedere, ofera noului sosit o panorama exotica, extatica si extraordinara - una din "victimele" principale fiind moi meme, am de gand sa va povestesc despre ceva ce putina lume cred ca percepe - structura atat de naturala, atat de...romaneasca (nu numai din cauza migratiei destul de masive a concetatenilor nostri catre iluzia unei vieti mai bune) a unui oras si, in extenso, a unei provincii pe care ar trebui sa o cunoastem mai bine si de la care sa invatam destul de multe.

Ce este frumos, in primul rand, este respectul fata de trecut si de imaginea orasului. Nu pot uita, apropo de asta, un poster care invita cetatenii sa ajute prin campania "Barcelona, fa-te frumoasa!"...In al doilea rand, este grija pe care o au fata de integritatea lor sociala si rasiala (aici, da, e un punct mai dur, dar undeva ii inteleg) - filme traduse in catalana, carti in catalana la tot pasul, manifestari in catalana..

Imi aduc aminte de o fatuca, o romanca de-a noastra, socioloaga sau ceva asemanator, care a mers in Tara Bascilor (care ei bine, poseda o limba unica in Europa - am vazut grafia dar nu am reusit sa inteleg nimic) si a vrut ea sa explice ce e cu ei...undeva am laudat gestul dar l-am si condamnat un pic - din punctul meu de vedere, nu cred ca e corect sa te bagi in ceea ce nu te priveste - ea, probabil a facut gestul ca se acopere de glorie nu ca sa faca un serviciu societatii...

Articolul acesta cu ton de confesiune nu o sa ii copieze ideea ci, din contra, o sa prezinte o Barcelona cum am simtit-o eu, cu bune si cu rele...Sa continuam...Un alt punct bun este clima - in noiembrie poti purta jacheta sau doar un pulovar iar in decembrie e cam ca in octombrie la noi. Dar acuma, cu toate schimbarile astea climatice, cine stie ce o sa mai purtam...

Plajele, restaurantele, oamenii formeaza un fermecator dar strict amestec, in care gasesti cam ce vrei, esti servit cat de cat corect (sa nu credeti ca nu exista dorinta sa ne mai fure la nota de plata sau alte chestii mai ales ca suntem romani, deci din afara zidurilor). Pe plaja e mai usor si, slava Cerului, nu tin minte sa fi vazut "exemple" croncanind printre oameni cu namol sau ziare. Nisipul, din pacate, e cam tare pentru gusturile mele iar marea mi s-a parut mai sarata...paradoxal, am inteles cum ca a noastra ar fi cea mai sarata...mda...oi fi inteles gresit...pana la proba contrarie.

Un punct in plus, turistic vorbind, il reprezinta birourile de informatii. La aeroport gasiti, in Placa Catalunya etc. Sa aveti doar rabdare cu pauzele lor de pranz, sunt sfinte. In rest, muzee care mai de care, Sagrada Familia - exemplul permanent si etern al ambitiei umane de a-l preamari pe Dumnezeu, Parcul Guell - fantezia si inocenta unei singure persoane, catedrala veche a Barcelonei, unde este mormantul sfintei patroane - Eulalia, cu el claustro (curtea interioara) unde sunt niste gaste adorabile si foarte fotogenice, Muzeul Maritim, Maremagnum, Hotelul Arts, nesfarsitele plaje cu fauna lor, Ramblas...Barri Gotic...fantanile "cantarete"...tot!!

In concluzie, daca e sa fac un bilant, Barcelona iese cu foarte putine cifre in rosu. Dar foarte putine, din simplul motiv ca este singurul oras (vazut pana acuma) care doreste sa evolueze in permanenta, sa creasca, sa sublimeze fiecare experienta, sa slefuiasca fiecare suflet care isi doreste asta.

Asa ca, dragilor si dragelor, daca vreodata vreti sa aveti parte de o experienta frumoasa, alegeti o agentie faina, conditii bune de sedere, inarmati-va cu rabdare, bani destui, harti, ghiduri de conversatie, aveti grija la genti in permanenta, faceti poze multe si sa nu va mire daca mai gasiti saraci sau case mai in paragina sau imagini deprimante - fiecare capitala are cam di tate, deci...

Ignorati tot si respirati un pic de aer catalan. In plus, mai trageti cu urechea la catalana, o sa aveti surprize frumoase - seamana foarte mult cu romana. Cel mai tare exemplu - noi spunem oul meu, ei spun el meu ou. Sau uite, noi spunem peste, ei spun peix (peish).

Va las momentan(l) si va urez calatorie placuta. I que tingueu un molt bon dia!