De ce e cerul albastru

lucrurile au propriul lor ritm şi, de cele mai multe ori, se petrec exact atunci cînd au ele chef şi tu eşti mai puţin pregătit

Reckless love

Jude had bought the car in sorry shape from a roadie, a ‟65 Mustang, the GT fastback. He spent all of July and most of August in the barn, gutting the Mustang, pulling out parts that were rusted, burnt out, shot, dented, corroded, caked in oils and acids, and replacing them: HiPo block, authentic cranks and heads, transmission, clutch, springs, white pony seats — everything original except for the speakers and the stereo. He installed a bazooka bass in the trunk, affixed an XM radio antenna to the roof, and laid in a state-of-the-art digital sound system. He drenched himself in oil, banged knuckles, and bled into the transmission. It was a rough kind of courtship, and it suited him well.

 Around that time she had come to live with him.

She sat in the backseat with the dogs while he worked, her boots sticking out a missing window. She sang along with the songs she knew and talked baby talk to Bon and kept at Jude with her questions. She asked him if he was ever going to go bald (“I don‟t know”), because she‟d leave him if he did (“Can‟t blame you”), and if he‟d still think she was sexy if she shaved off all her hair (“No”), and if he‟d let her drive the Mustang when it was done (“Yes”), and if he‟d ever been in a fistfight (“Try to avoid them — hard to play guitar with a broken hand”), and why he never talked about his parents (to which he said nothing), and if he believed in fate (“No,” he said, but he was lying).

 Pictures skipped in his head, a series of vivid stills. She was in the backseat of the Mustang, naked on the white leather except for her cowboy boots and a feathered ten-gallon hat, peeking out at him from under the brim, eyes bright with mischief.

 He had gone into the house to get beer and had come back, and she was waiting in the rear of the Mustang in her boots and no more. He dropped the open beers and left them foaming in the dirt. In that moment nothing in the world seemed more important than her firm, twenty-six-year-old flesh, and her twenty-six-year-old sweat, and her laughter, and her teeth on his neck.

 Marybeth found a derelict Dodge Charger in a local auto graveyard, brought it home for three hundred dollars. Jude spent the next summer sweating in the yard with his shirt off, restoring it. He came in late each night, all of him tanned, except for the shiny silver scar down the center of his chest. Marybeth was always waiting just inside the door, with a glass of homemade lemonade. Sometimes they would trade a kiss that tasted of cold juice and motor oil.
They were her favorite kisses.

 ”It will haunt you and startle you and stay with you,
and yes, visit you in your dreams…”

Stealing moments of happiness

Imi place sa-mi manjesc degetele cu ciocolata si sa ma apuc sa-ti umplu ridurile din jurul ochilor cu dulce. Masca mea te intinereste cu cel putin zece ani, iar gandul ca ai fost baiatul asta ma face sa rad. Tot ce esti tu acum a disparut lin precum cute trecute pe sub o masina fierbinte de calcat. Deschizi ochii zambind brusc. Mi-ai surprins gandurile soptite incurcat, intr-un limbaj mimic imbujorat. Fondantul s-a intarit si am ramas cu un mulaj al anilor trecuti prin tine. Il tin in mana si mi se-arata jucaus. De undeva din interior imi ceri o reactie, iar eu scap o sclipire de fericire in coltul buzelor. Pentru ca am in fata mea tot ce-a reusit sa adune viata ta pana acum. Si nu te-as vrea altfel! decat asa, aici si mai ales, numai acum.

*Je veux

Cand iti scoti sufletul si i-l pui in buzunar dimineata inainte sa plece din casa, umbli toata ziua ca o carcasa goala. Impersonala si fara nici un pic de originalitate. E mai bine sa iti tii inima acolo unde ii este locul, si sa stie ca il iubesti pentru toata viata dar ca il vrei numai pentru acum.

Se spune ca iubesti diferit in functie de varsta. Asa este. La 20 de ani lumea se termina la el/ea. E o tragedie fara sfarsit daca pleaca. La 30 iubesti mai cuminte, dar mai profund. E ca o dragoste subacvatica. Silentioasa, in slow motion, mai calma si mai matura. Tot tare doare pentru ca simti ca pierzi singura sursa care iti da oxygen sa respiri sub apa. Diferenta e ca suferinta nu mai este expusa atat de mult si maturitatea te ajuta sa treci zilele ducand in acelasi timp si povara singuratatii.

Am deci doar trei cerinte: par natural, dinti sanatosi si sa stie sa inoate. Si sub apa, nu doar sa o calce.

[Maiko - Drink another down, Drink enough to drown, Still, I can taste your lips, At my fingertips, Your breath upon my skin, And the way we used to sin. ]

Scumpul meu, nu sunt
o amanta.
As putea,
dar de ce sa ma multumesc
cu ce-mi permit in loc sa caut ce vreau.
De ce as fi
eu aia care-ti alimenteaza vina fata de Ea,
care-ti trezeste fanteziile,
care-ti aduce aminte sa fii tandru?
cu Ea.
Te pot iubi, o zi, ce-i drept.
Hai, doua.
Pot trage de-o poveste,
oricum o leg si-o dezleg,
incat sa dureze o saptamana.
Pe tine te fac sa visezi mai mult.
Dar Eu nu-s facuta pentru asta.
Eu caut altceva.
Eu caut sa fiu Ea.
Da, recunosc, Ea mintita,
poate de unul ca tine.
Insa mintita bine.
Cea la care te intorci acasa
cu ochii atintiti si urechile plecate.
Cea care te mangaie
si-ti pune capul pe pieptul ei,
chiar daca citeste mult prea multe
in privirea ta.
Pentru ca de langa ea nu mai pleci.
Pentru ca oricate trec prin tine,
pe Ea o tii in bratele tale,
pe jumatatea ei de pat te trezesti,
cu Ea uiti de trecut, traiesti acum
si speri sa nu-i arati niciodata
irationalitatea ta masculina.
Pentru ca aia, aia o pastrezi
pentru mine. Iar eu
imi dau demisia, pentru ca stiu,
oriunde in alta parte voi castiga
mai mult decat acum. Si am
prea multe de dat ca sa ma opresc
aici. Chiar daca ar fi
doar o scurta oprire-ntr-o statie.
Chiar daca am putea
imparti o calatorie. Momentan
pot sa-mi cumpar
si singura un bilet.
Plec la drum intr-un vagon
doar pentru mine,
sorb privelistea si promit,
n-o sa ma mai gandesc la ce ai pierdut.

Partea mea logica imi impedica inima sa se duca la dracu’,
pentru ca s-a saturat sa se duca dupa ea si s-o aduca-napoi.

Iar cand lucrurile stau
asa, atarnate
indulgent de un candelabru,
simt nevoia
sa nu ma mai catar. Nu mai
e vorba de un El, sau de ceva
ce n-as putea avea. Nu-i
o poveste, e doar o zi
din viata mea… si tu,
tu nu trebuie sa stii nimic altceva.

*si Ea vrea un El care sa stie sa inoate fara jumatati de masura

P.S.: In Identitate e Ea, iar Ea o sa fie mereu (stii tu, aia pe care o iubeai cand nu stiai ca ea te iubeste frumos); din cuvinte, special pentru tine, tot Ea a conceput o Cealalta (i-a imbracat cuminte hainele), plasata la o distanta din ce in ce mai mare – exact asa cum te simti confortabil sa fie, fix cum i-ai cerut, fara furtuni in viata ta, fara fulgere si camasi. O lume linistita si pasnica, in care doar uneori bate un vant usor peste paginile unei carti

P.P.S.: nu-s adormita de tot – e 20 sept si nu-s in Ro sa iau gsp-ul cu albumul lui Guess Who (

P.P.P.S.: la naiba, inca-s racita! dar pot si vreau sa ma duc sa dorm

Chestii scoase din cuptor

din ciclul pe nesimtite

Only 12% of the world’s English-speaking population can solve this in 30 seconds. Say the opposites of these words:

1. Always
2. Coming
3. From
4. Take
5. Me
6. Down

daca nu vezi fumul arzi mancarea

si la cat de buna ar fi fost, ai manca-o

dar stii prea bine ca ti s-ar face rau

asa ca o arunci multumit

ca data viitoare pofta va fi mai mare

si mancarea macar cu atat mai gustoasa

stomacul iti sta in loc

atata timp cat in mintea lui

sadesti un gand pierdut

cum ca ai mai gasi ingredientele

 dar cum problema nu este ca teoria (mea) e prea nebuneasca, ci tocmai ca nu este (numai a mea) suficient de nebuneasca

imi permit sa vomit putin in ritmul asta si sa mai bolesc

ca tare mult imi place!

continui curand… adaug si ceva miuzic pentru… o adaug, ce sa mai si mai vad

*because even in a jar butterflies run wild

Found in Draft II

From Mika

and me: fill in the blanks

I am: whoever you want me to be; if you don’t want that you can meet Lulu

I wish: pfffff! taking things one at a time, right now I’d wish for a fairytale

I keep: my character, my values, my ambitions, my dreams, every single fairytale I had and I will have, my feelings (though sometimes I try to get rid of them), people dear to me and charms

I would have liked to: are words that I rarely put together

I don’t like: raisins & stupid, shallow, arrogant people

I fear: nothing, ‘f course “Eu pot, eu sunt magician”

I hear: the rain fall right now and two of my egos having an argument in the background

I’m sorry: take that up with my conscience if you can get a booking

I like: bubbles and candy and books and rainbows and cupcakes and the list goes on and on and on….

I’m not: having a good day today

I dance: my ass off

I sing: and I know I’m not good at it; oh, yeah, and I don’t care

Never: say never

I rarely: am on time

I cry: Unfounded rumours!

I’m not always: sleeping with a huge gun under my pillow

I don’t like myself: Oh, yes, I do! I just don’t really like it when people force me to stop being nice… but still, I do it well

Found in the draft folder

Putem numara stele de pe cer din nebunie ori din plictiseala. Uneori din ambele motive. Insa de cele mai multe ori uitam sa ne numaram si pe noi… singura stea… singura planeta, singurul soare care conteaza!… Privim Universul cu o ciudata neincredere, de parca nu am putea concepe ca mai exista si alte lumi, si alte realitati, si alte locuri in care alte forme de oameni iubesc, urasc, ucid, traiesc… Astfel ca, realitatea ne izbeste necontenit cu partea ei ascunsa in umbra: Ceea ce nu vedem ne vede. Ceea ce nu simtim ne simte. Ceea ce nu ne lipseste ne apartine. Treptat, insa, lucruri pe care nu le vedem devin vizibile iar lucrurilor pe care suntem obisnuiti sa le avem incepem sa le simtim lipsa. Natura noastra ne spune ca omul este un sistem dinamic in care o infinitate de lucruri pe care le avem face schimb de materie si spirit cu o infintate de lucruri pe care nu le avem. Atat timp cat va exista un echilibru in acest sistem va exista si armonie. Insa omul este o fiinta haotica ce va tinde sa-si asume rolul cunoasterii si va claca in fata noilor infinituri de necunoastere pe care le va intrezari. Omul nu a fost creat pentru a fi fericit ci pentru a oscila intre nebunia descoperirii si plictisela de armonie. Fericirea este doar momeala ce-l va tine in cursa, pana la sfarsit….

P.S.: Cica iubirea este singurul lucru care poate fi impartit la infinit fara sa
se micsoreze… (Desi dupa doi-trei ani de dragoste, dupa cinci sau sapte ani, mintea scoate de sub obroc, din beciul inconstient, toate aberatiile pe care le-a crezut realitati)

A festival of broken glass

Syria: Riots stop when authorities use tanks.

Italy: Riots stop as police fire rubber bullets.

Greece: End to riots as police deploy water cannon and tear gas.

England: Riots stop… because it’s raining.

Due to the imminent collapse of society we regret to announce we are closing at 6pm tonight

As politicians holidayed and police were caught by surprise, rioters looted and high streets burned across the UK. It all started with a peaceful demonstration outside Tottenham(North London) police station, on Saturday 6th August 2011. The protest quickly turned into a full-scale riot, with disorder spreading across London and other areas of England. The situation carried on until the 10th of August.

There were mainly three groups of rioters: organised career criminals, semi-organised youths and those who got carried away in the excitement. Many of those turned out to be very far from the stereotype of the hopeless underclass. The authorities soon lost control – the police force was outnumbered, the Prime Minister, the Home Secretary, the Deputy Prime Minister, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Mayor of London, the mayor’s chief of staff and head of communication, the chairman of the Metropolitan Police Authority and the Head of the London Fire Brigade were all on holiday. The number of police officers on London streets was 6000. It was only on Tuesday that the number grew up top 16000. The general panic had already installed and it seems that the official decisions against the riots came a bit late.

At least 186 police officers and five dogs were injured. Five men have died. Vehicles, homes and shops were attacked and set alight (more than 200 million pounds in property damage). Transport was affected. A Sony Music-owned warehouse was set on fire and most of its inventory was considered lost, including the entire British stock of LPs and CDs for Domino Records, XL Records and over 100 other European independent record labels. Estimated losses over the mass looting have been indicated to be in the region of 100 million pounds.

As of 13 August, 2275 people have been arrested, of which more than 1000 have been charged.

In my opinion, public unity stopped the entire madness. People from Muslim communities (Bangladeshi, Kurdish, Pakistani, Somali and Turkish) were seen chasing down masked youths in several ares of North and East London. Locals in Enfield took part, as did the supporters of the football club Millwall in Eltham and the Sikh communities in Southall, East Ham, Ilford and Romford. Tens of thousands of users of social networking sites coordinated clean-up operations of their local shopping areas and streets. Residents armed with brooms, gloves and bin bags took the streets to clean up the damage. They also had meet ups to donate blankets, clothes, baby food and other necessities to be sent to those made homeless by the riots. Thousands of others are taking part in impromptu acts of kindness to help cities like London, Birmingham and Manchester. Builders have offered free help to Londoners to repair their damage, while high street banks are providing immediate financial relief with loan repayment holidays. The British Bankers Association said banks would provide extra financial support for businesses who needed cash for repairs and to replace stock lost to looters. A Shoreditch website is also helping Londoners find tradesmen to help repair the damage for free. A campaign to help Aaron Biber, an 89-year old barber who had his shop destroyed, has raised 5000 pounds after a web page allowing people to donate was set up; he has run a barber shop close to Tottenham High Road for 41 years. Obviously, the officials did not approve of the “informally organised community groups” taking a role in maintaining public order.

Hats off to the response of the community!

Scatter sunshine

Today I’m happy. I don’t need to say more.

sometimes it hits you

Those who can laugh without cause have either found the true meaning of happiness or have gone stark raving mad.  [Norm Papernick]

ceva mai mult decat nimic

nu-i nevoie de simturi speciale

doar de materie cenusie mestecata

pe drumul ei inapoi spre buze moi

pana la refuz pana iese orice

pe cale naturala oricat

de lipsita de maniere natura

nu e crescuta la pension

e un fel de matusa cu riduri

gravate-n zambete din nicotina

care are in grija un bordel de colt

de strada apretat cu clienti care cer

pe caiet fatuci de criza si baietei

cu complexul Electrei nimic

nu se pierde totul se acumuleaza

precum lichide gretoase imbratisand

loial organe uitate de vreme

de un cercetator nebun

ratat ridicat la gradul de excentric