Sizzling silence

This is hard to do,so bear with me.Bear with me because I am so fucking angry I could actually explode right here,right now into tiny bits of bitter nothingness.Why am I the way I am?God,God,God...

Touch me with the tip of your finger and I'll go for your throat like a mountain lion...metaphorically.
Everything is very frustrating.From doors that are being slammed all around me to the masks I change in order to please everybody.Since when did I actually agree to kill myself with kindness?

The small islands of peace and tranquility I find in each day stand no chance in front of the catastrophic typhoon that lies even in the smallest of gestures.

I'm angry for no particular reason and that makes me angry at my own anger.Why does my body swell with violence each time something doesn't agree with me?Are all my years of discipline fancy ashes when faced with a raw,beastly urge to see blood?Is my egocentricity getting out of hand?

Maybe I'm having a bad week.Out of a crappy month.Out of a pointless existence.

I really,really,really want to punch a wall right now,but I need my hand to write my inner turmoil instead of materializing it.

I don't thing my going to college is going to make any difference at all.I don't think the love I give is equal to the love I receive.I don't think my life has a meaning and this scares me sometimes.Yet something else is troubling me,some eluding shadow that won't reveal its face or name.

Meanwhile,I could pick a fight with a bull and not mind it.The worst part is that I have to keep this "unidentified" monster in a calm cage,all bottled up and ready to show its claws.

I'm not home,where I could cry without feeling judged or pitied,where I could find the kind words I so badly need,where the world seems safer and smaller.No.

I'm in an improvised "home",drowning in books and in shadowed sentiments.Though I know my Paradise is flawed,I'd rather be there than here.And I'm still fucking angry!

It's tiresome,to be honest.So much mental swearing and two fists constantly clenched-this isn't me.Or,at least,I hope this hasn't become me.If only oblivion came somehow...

I can't go back to thinking all those awful thoughts about myself and others because it wouldn't be fair.Or healthy.Or sane.I never knew inner violence could physically hurt...

Morbid scenarios are creeping before my eyes,so I'd better find relief inside a bed before I seek it in darker projections.

I pray for peace and purpose.

What now?

Words have been said,faces unwritten,books acquired and stories hastily put together.What now?

I think I might have forgotten how to be a friend,let alone a "good" one.I'm ridiculously tired and antisocial and pouring my soul into a cause I don't believe in.I'm a living and breathing paradox.I'm in hate with myself and the mere thought of somebody (other than my family) genuinely caring for me brings this being in front of you to salty tears and shaking limbs.

As peculiar as it may seem,I have temporarily misplaced my "how to human" handbook.So,how do I interact with my friends now?

A deeply uninteresting life doesn't help and all those stated above aren't what I would call "golden stars" on the scale of interpersonal relationships.

My awkwardness has surely been taken as irritation,I can feel it in my crawling skin.Upsetting anyone is the very last thing on my list,but there are some situations even I can't fake myself out of.

For my sake and that of others,I should just go live in a cave and be done with it all...

I'm sorry,I'm sorry,I'm sorry.Towards you,towards myself,towards everything.What a day,God,what a day!

I'm surprised I can stand myself,to be honest.Well,I kind of don't,but that's another heartache altogether.

I screwed up without actually screwing up.What now?

Purple brand

my flesh is ordinary,though my mental
skeleton is adorned with scales and poisons
the surface of a mirror I so loathe
to face in a fluorescent corner

locked up fat,contained meat,
branded breasts that bear
purple bruises beneath lace and gilded wires
of curved dictatorship

a "modern armor",that's what it should be called-
it keeps you safe from greedy eyes
and black eyes and brutal eyes
and all the eyes that harm,including yours

if my soul is a sheet,then it's caught
between a wall of decaying constrictions
and a mental road with blurred origins,
with twisted seams,heading towards an abyss

I can't,though I must and I would
if I could,but these wounds are concealed
and at times I believe I'm alone in seeing
the spreading disease and open lungs

no tears to shed for this silent violence,
no clothes to spare for a bonfire of release
in the middle of nowhere,
no pinkish indents to call "sweet dreams"

we all wear the mark of our time
and mine is an almost voluntary
act of torture

Crimson nausea

Sleepless night.Cold morning.Coffee perfume.Forehead kisses.Crimson uniform.Numb clocks.Loving cats.Stalled goodbyes.Endless road.Meaningful difference.Rising nausea.Trademark arrival.Tainted nostalgia.Heavy bag.Worn out words.White ticket.Window seat.Recent stories.Familiar sights.Hurricane thoughts.Crowded subway.Gray view.Smothering room.Heated unpacking.Forced breakfast.Lost minutes.Cute boys.Flavorless college.Closing eyes.Confusing pages.Pointless questions.Old flame.Corner seat.Reassuring knowledge.Tired bones.Powerless stare.Scattered sheets.Musical plastic.Irrelevant silence.Poignant longing.Silly sentences.Crappy feelings.Piling chores.Vivid fantasies.Bad bed.Soothing voice.Smoky eyelids.Scarred skin.Beautiful strangers.Claustrophobic hall.Nasty springs.Short phone call.Impetuous eyes.Unsaid problems.Busy bugs.Written soul.Unbelievable friends.Blank heart.Loose clothes.Red curls.Branded pages.Seeping curiosity.Not so endless possibilities.Unanswered questions.Lost youth.Purposeless life.Clean room.Crackling back.Future preparations.Darling memories.Colorful images.Sweet hands.Wishful prayers.

Bless the Sunday sun!

Ce faci cand ai o ora in plus duminica dimineata?O dormi,desigur!
Micul-dejun fara o cafea "inalta" e pierdut din start.
Sunt dependenta de muzica si o recunosc prin toate bataile ritmate ale inimii.
Chiar daca imi las toate responsabilitatile pentru ultima clipa,tot nu-mi pare rau.
Nu credeam ca soarele de octombrie va mai fi atat de generos cu noi.
Ia-mi orasul sufocant si da-mi un colt de lume linistit,in care nu se intampla nimic si unde pot sa respir zambind.
Asa suntem noi: ne ciondanim,glumim aiurea,dar ramanem o familie pe care n-as lasa-o pentru tot Universul din aur.
La cat de bine gateste mama,cred ca ar trebui sa raman mai des duminica seara acasa.
Amorteala de cupru a toamnei imi da un ciudat sentiment de liniste si speranta in suflet.
Eu,frate-miu,"Despicable Me 2",o mare de paturi si perne- da,n-am uitat sa ma bucur de "micile minuni" ale vietii.
Ar trebui sa ma cam panichez pe la ora asta,dar berea impartita cu mama nu prea e de acord cu "drumul framantarii",asa ca lasam grijile pentru o alta data.
Nu-mi place sa plec,nu mi-a placut niciodata,mai ales cand nu stiu pentru ce o fac.Dar pentru cine...stiu.
Casti noi,muzica "veche",camera mea-nu s-a schimbat nimic.Si asta e bine...

My "do nothing" day

I can sense a pattern settling in,but I couldn't care less.Basically,this is my thought process during the weekend: Friday-"I am lazy piece of exhaustion and I will do nothing."; Saturday-"I should get started on things,but this is sorta like Friday.2,so...no."; Sunday-"Freaking out,I am freaking out,ohgodohgodohgod."Yes,if you're looking for a balanced and hardworking person,I'm your girl!...That's it,that's the punchline.

Anyway,I know this is how it's always going to be,no matter how much I bargain or compromise with myself.I'm only human,you know.After a week of "must do everything,must strive to exceed",I'm reduced to a very apathetic "bleah" and my energy level is at an all time low.And my state of mind?Let's not even try to enter that labyrinth.

I now realize this all looks like a sad attempt to justify myself,though I should have understood by now that I really don't owe anybody anything.Steer away from the labyrinth,don't even consider the option...

All things aside,this has been an extremely lovely day,adorned with pleasant sunshine,creamy coffee,fine entertainment and fluffy cats,so I'm a far cry from complaining.I've drawn a curtain over the storm and now I'm snuggling in the middle of a blanket-filled bed.

Yes,Saturday is officially my "do nothing" day and there's nothing you or I can do about it.

All the (?) reasons

I don't know,man,we're just so damn...evil.I mean,it's like we're constantly elbowing and pinching each other for a little more space and a chance to move ahead in an imaginary line.Has the world gotten smaller without my knowing?Because it sure feels like it.

I'm not like that.At least,I'd like to think that I'm not.One of these days,I'm going to get trampled to bits by a thousand little feet and my lack of revolt towards that image concerns me.

I'm not one to push people aside or try to prove I'm better because I know the truth to be otherwise.I lack spirit,one might say.

Being at home makes me realize even more how much my life philosophy will eventually backfire.The present is never stable and that's a mighty shame.But I don't care now.

I'm in a blissful "Friday night" mood that includes warm coffee,fantastic kittens and the most welcomed comfort of my own bed.That's enough to make me temporarily forget.Forgive...hardly.I can't forgive my race for not living up to its name nor can I forgive myself for becoming somebody I'd pity.So,you see,life is still awfully complicated.

Even so,it's quiet and peaceful tonight,so I can allow myself to dream "at full speed".I only pray that I never hurt others as much as others have hurt me...

I wish I could make this planet bigger.

Painful eyes

tonight,my eyes are voodoo puppets
rolling inside a dimming
skull

my glassy sense has failed me
and now my only lens
is my soul

what a drag!
what a stab!
what a loss!

my body has become a mirror
that reflects through distorted aches
all those ghosts

"sleeping" rhymes with "dread"
and nights come dressed
in shivers

these words pushed into my hands-
oh,what rabid ants!
what a punishment!

tears refuse to rain,though my heart
is an overflowing well in the middle
of a hurried scenery

I can't think with my body
because that would mean poisoning
the bud within

"resentment" is my middle name
and I can't undo what has been
mentally sealed

"My God,do I cry..."

I think I might have to see a psychologist soon.I'm slowly drowning in questions and answers which multiply at a rate beyond my comfortable control.The cold war inside my head is heating up and,ironically,I'm an ally to both parties.
Tonight,a dear friend made me cry.No,we didn't quarrel-she had the best of intentions,but that doesn't mean they necessarily stirred the same thoughts in me.
Right now,I feel like all my emotions have turned into stale vegetables.God,it's so hard to explain!I wish I knew more words...
How do you react when somebody tells you that you matter and that statement hits you like a ton of bricks?How do you go from "dead weight" to actual "being"?How do you cope with the realization that all your thoughts of altruism are pure and utter bullshit and that you only help others because you're practically begging for a morsel of love each time you breathe?How do you fucking deal with the fact that by sacrificing yourself to save others you only end up hurting them?And how do you make sense out of all of this?
Can you hear me breaking apart?'Cause I can.I can hear the shackles inside my body rattling like bells and all the logic draining from my existence with every passing moment.I'm a bad person,but I don't have the strength to become a good one.
I need sleep now...

Drained

Au revenit noptile cand somnul ma sperie si ma oboseste.
Momentele rare de feminitate in care ideea de "fusta" ma atrage nu sunt si cele mai practice din lume.
Metroul seamana cu un sarpe infinit si infuriat.
Ma jur,exista oameni atat de prosti si enervanti pe lume ca ma mir deschis cum inca se mai suporta!
N-am timp nici sa mor,insa se pare ca am timp de pierdut.
As vrea ca oboseala trupului sa nu-mi mai impiedice entuziasmul mintii.
Singurul loc in care ma simt la fel de bine ca acasa este un anticariat.
...si tot nu pot sa inteleg de ce oamenii ma plac.
Desigur,aruncati asupra mea si mai multe responsabilitati,doar nu-mi ajung facultatea in sine si viata!
Poate o sa ma paraseasca odata greata asta eterna si o sa ma pot bucura in sfarsit de o masa decenta...
Telefonul dat sau primit seara ma face sa suport atatea chestii ce-mi alimenteaza plansul intern.
Chiar daca salteaua e adusa din Iadul coloanelor vertebrale,tot trage la somn.
Inconjurata de carti si de foi manjite cu negru,inteleg faptul ca mi-am sigilat singura soarta.
Desi fericirea poate fi insumata intr-o cafea si o melodie buna,astazi n-au fost de ajuns.
Nu m-ar deranja ca zilele epuizante sa se reduca la minim cumva.

Blissfully incompetent

When I realize how utterly incomplete and incompetent I am,I can't help but smile.

I mean,I always try so hard to do everything right and I always end up as this blurred picture that can't quite encompass all there is to.At some point or another,it becomes frustrating beyond the point of real tears.

Worst part?The ones I love and who love me back live with this fantasy that I'm so goddamn perfect...I can't and I know I won't live up to that.Still,the facade doesn't break and I keep molding this enormous lie over and over and over again.

I'm way past personal sorrow and existential grief-yes,I'm blissfully embracing the fact that "life sucks and then you die".
Except that I'm actually constantly freaking out about anything and everything-but it's much more easier to hide it all behind a cheerful expression,don't you reckon?
This is all a really weird time for me,like I've suddenly forgotten how to add up two and two.My next steps are a mixture of uncertainty and fear,my brain is a cabbage field and my hope is nothing but a four letter word.This is getting too repetitive and too silly too quickly.
And I know I shouldn't be the first to kick myself in the backside,but I can't help it.It doesn't matter,though-others are also standing in line,consciously or not.
Well,I guess I'm stuck with my dumb smile now.

Lost day

Sunt zile cand te trezesti epuizat.
Sunt zile cand te apuca frica existentiala inainte de micul-dejun.
Sunt zile cand ai vrea sa te scufunzi in propriul pat.
Sunt zile cand vrei sa fii Superwoman,chiar daca asta nu e posibil.
Sunt zile cand o gura de cafea e ca o rugaciune dulce.
Sunt zile cand renunti cu un zambet amar pe buze.
Sunt zile cand ceasul iti mananca pasii inainte ca tu sa-i faci.
Sunt zile cand n-ai vrea sa te vada nimeni ca plangi.
Sunt zile cand cartile nu se mai termina si cerneala iti pateaza ochii.
Sunt zile cand a fi "om" e o sarcina mult prea grea.
Sunt zile cand mai bine taci.
Sunt zile cand minti de dragul altora.
Sunt zile cand trenul te sufoca si galagia oboseste sufletul.
Sunt zile cand baietii sunt doar niste nenorociti.
Sunt zile cand ai nevoie de un prieten bun langa tine.
Sunt zile cand inteleg de ce m-am nascut sub zodia Varsatorului.
Sunt zile cand te simti al naibii de singura.
Sunt zile cand as vrea sa fiu altcineva.
Sunt zile cand ma rog sa am timp sa ascult toata muzica din lume.
Sunt zile cand nu-mi simt mainile.
Sunt zile cand pun la indoiala totul.
Sunt zile cand cand mi-e dor de copilarie.
Sunt zile cand mi-e strain somnul.
Sunt zile cand timpul pare pierdut cu totul.

Salty pillowcase

Do you ever feel like there is an elephant perched on top of your chest?Like your lungs have developed a consciousness all too stubborn to cooperate?Like you don't quite know the exact definition of a panic attack,but you're fairly certain you're experiencing one as you speak?Yeah,I thought so...

It's extremely frustrating to have a good day and then have it blown to pieces by a creeping emotion with hard edges.That's why I can't ever enjoy the present: because I'm too involved in the future to even notice it.

Why can't I live today just for the sake of today?Relax,unwind,say "To Hell with it!"and put things into perspective?

"Stupid" seems too harsh-I have my reasons,though-but no other word comes into mind first.

If I could see myself through another's eyes for only a moment,maybe then I'd consider things differently.Until that happens,I'll have to settle for a salty pillowcase and an atomic bomb heart.

Usually,times like this teach people how to become bigger and better.Me?I'm stuck.That's it,I'm stuck in the middle of a piece of nothingness I created for myself the moment I asked my first question:"Why?".

How do others do it?Is it in their blood or are they merely better at holding up a facade?I wish I knew their secret.

Right now,I'm holding on to every shred of reality in order to carry on.

Sunny road

Ultima alarma enervanta pe saptamana asta-ultima!
Promit ca diseara o sa beau cafeaua de drag,nu din pura necesitate!
E tare greu sa recunosti ca nu esti bun la ceva anume,mai ales cand toti traiesc cu impresia ca esti bun la toate.
Uitasem cat de obositoare poate sa fie sala de lectura.
Refuz sa cred ca traiesc intr-o societate in care singurele opinii valoroase sunt cele exprimate-totusi,traiesc in aceasta societate.
"I feel something so wrong doing the right thing."
Minutele trec,eu alerg dupa timp,iar ceasul ma inghite si pe mine.
Unul din cele mai frumoase momente ale saptamanii este cel in care privesc apusul in drum spre casa-atunci simt ca exista un rost al lumii si ca am voie sa zambesc.
Dupa o zi tare obositoare,cina servita la locul meu obisnuit din bucatarie este ca un balsam vindecator.
Cate se pot strange de vorbit in atat de putin timp!
Mi s-au suit pisoii pe umeri si cafeaua tace calda pe masa- da,mi-e bine,mi-e foarte bine!
Aici simt ca apartin,aici este tot ce conteaza,aici sunt cu adevarat libera.
Pana si serialele se vad mai bine dintr-un pat cunoscut!
Dintre toate concluziile zilei de astazi,una singura se contureaza ferm:daca ascult ce-mi spune inima,atunci ascult bine.

Fairly content

Nu pot sa admit ca "sunt fericita",mi-e frica de consecintele gandului in sine.Dar,in schimb,pot sa soptesc faptul ca am fost cat de cat multumita cu mine astazi,poate chiar impacata.

Mi-am demonstrat ca nu sunt chiar atat de inutila,am invatat cateva lucruri noi si am vazut chipuri frumoase peste tot pe unde am fost.Da,astazi a fost o zi fara drama majora,unde sa insemnez minunea asta!

In mod curios,parca nu prea am cuvinte.Acum inteleg de ce sentimentele negative sunt mai productive: au nevoie sa fie exprimate cumva.Pe de alta parte,echilibrul (sa zicem ca) trebuie doar trait si savurat.

Da,imi sunt draga cand ma simt stapana pe situatie.Da,sunt tacit mandra daca o idee mi se dezvaluie mie prima.Da,cred ca sunt draguta atunci cand nu las gandurile mai putin colorate sa-mi acopere privirea.

Stiu,pare aproape incredibil,insa,in aceste momente rare,gasesc resursele sa ma accept temporar.Si e bine.

E bine cand stiu sa-mi fiu prietena.Nu e mult,dar pasii mici conteaza pentru mine mai mult decat salturile uriase de pe Luna.

Maine plec spre casa,sper sa si ajung acolo,asa ca n-am de ce sa las acest mic miracol sa-mi scape din maini.Pana la urma,o sa gasesc eu o solutie mai trainica.

Caged in clothes

there are days when I just want
to rip my clothes off
and breathe

this fabric is a cage held together
by threaded shackles
and fitted lies

breasts pushed against ribs,ankles reduced
to twigs,a painfully hidden waist-
am I merely this?

rejected flesh that must feel shame
behind a burlesque curtain
crafted by society?

I want my skin to be a blessing,
not a reason to retreat
inside a sweater

I want to wear thin air
around my body and never worry
about bloodshot eyes

I want to release myself from
the elastic band view I've become
too numb to reject

my blisters are witnesses,
my red-branded body
stands as palpable proof

there are days when I just crave
to burn my clothes
and run

Crazy people,lovely people

Sunt oameni pe lumea asta pentru care apelativul "nebun de legat" devine o minimalizare aproape de neiertat.Oameni ignoranti,rautaciosi,parca porniti impotriva multimii atunci cand stiu ca detin puterea,oricat de fragila ar fi ea.De ce sa arunci cu pietre in cei pe care ar trebui sa-i ghidezi spre ziua de maine?Oare atat de mare si hapsana sa fie prostia?Avea dreptate Einstein.

Cu astfel de oameni nu poti sa te intelegi: ei traiesc in lumea lor,feriti de propria epidemie grosolana.Singurul mare pacat este ca li se da voie sa amarasca suflete care nu-i merita.

In definitiv,"mare e gradina Domnului...si astia tot mai muta gardul!".

Sunt oameni pe lumea asta pentru care apelativul "painea lui Dumnezeu" nu este suficient.Oameni dulci,blanzi,gata sa te ajute si sa te sustina pana in panzele albe.De ce ei au reusit sa inchida ochii in fata unei lumi meschine si sa vada doar lumina ce straluceste (mai mult sau mai putin) in fiecare?Oare de coloana lor vertebrala nu sunt agatate doar simple vertebre?Avea dreptate Universul.

Cu astfel de oameni poti sa intelegi bunatatea: ei traiesc pentru altii,prin altii,expusi constant unui uragan mult prea neslefuit.Singurul mare pacat este ca le simtim valoarea abia dupa ce dispar.

In definitiv,"nu sti ce-ai avut pana n-ai pierdut!".

Red boat

sometimes,I feel like a purposeless
red boat that drifts
from shore to shore,
from dream to dream

while others write love songs,
I imagine how I could fill
an entire sea with bitterness
and salty pearls
of sin

my mermaids hate me to bits-
they're wicked enough to cast
a hazy spell of land,
yet never too shy to strip me bare
of an entire continent

these sails of broken silk
cannot mend wild winds
nor can they safely bring
a crew of blinded souls
to an epiphany

my wooden ribs welcome
waves of crimson shine
with giddy cracklings-
it's how I become alive,
it's when I smell
the end is ripe

sometimes,I feel like a sunken
red boat that sways
from day to day,
from abyss to abyss

Give me a pen

give me a pen,a piece of paper
and a reason not to feel alone
anymore

I always say I'm drowning,though I'm floating
in the midst of a ghostly sea
without an anchor

I write-that's when I feel real,
that's how I breathe through the hard days,
that's why I'm still here

the ink-soldiers that march for me
are fighting a war that rests upon
their meaning

every question mark is like a bomb
being dropped into my skull
without mercy

I'm a damaged playground for all the nasty children
who call themselves "thoughts"
inside this being

peace is eternally brought up in crimson,
fragile to the bone,
yet never fully agreed upon

oh,how I wish they would retreat
in the middle of two seas
and let the seal turn cold!

so give me a pen,a piece of paper
and a reason not to ponder
anymore

Sickening disease

I can feel this bloody disease in my mouth: it's moldy and expanding,a khaki odor clinging to my tongue with restless fervor.My sleep is like a lucid nightmare and my body seems like a stranger's.

I cried for other people's aches and loses,letting my tears melt into a fever which made pain exponentially more acute.To be fair,it's hard to sing the spirit with your shattered organism constantly reminding you how very breakable you actually are.

I mean,who on earth starts crying into their food because they can't finish it?Apparently,I do.I began to bawl into my plate tonight,with a stomach alike a raging volcano and mother's hand blending my tears into a rising fever.It's like remembering every single damn thing that ever caused you pain and letting it explode into a nauseating meltdown.

The fact that I depend so much on a bunch of meat to even function scares me out of my wits sometimes.Even so,I let myself fall and break and shatter,this was the only way to rebuild my mosaic.

Fortunately,quality TV,playful kittens and the company of my very concerned family made me forget this state of being and enjoy a pleasant Saturday night in.

Maybe this time around I'll sleep more and suffer less.

Cold shivers

Cateva ore de somn nu inseamna nimic in fata unei raceli ce creste precum un val amenintator.
Unde sunt zilele in care beam o cafea de placere si nu din nevoie?
Sunt momente in care ma mir singura ca nu crapa oglinda vazandu-ma.
Aceeasi sala,acelasi loc,alta poveste.
Ca o soparla carliontata,fur bucati de soare si le ascund in solzii de sub pulover.
Ma doar spatele,mi se macina oasele unele de altele,iar orele parca mai mult ma indeparteaza de casa.
Ori arat pe jumatate moarta,ori chiar spun lucruri semi-inteligente: altfel nu-mi explic miezul acestei zile.
Frisoanele ma transforma intr-o fiinta muzicala enervanta.
Doamne,de ce ai lasat oameni batuti in cap pe acest pamant,de ce,oare de ce?!
Nu stiu cum am ajuns la metrou,in maxi sau acasa,insa stiu ca am trecut printr-un pachet de servetele,cateva lacrimi incandescente si o experienta (aproape) extrasenzoriala.
Mancare facuta de mama (2 portii,va rog!),cateva pastile,pisicute calde pe piept-nu,nu ma simt mai bine,dar ma simt mai bine.
Dupa o saptamana de citit carti interminabile,merit sa recuperez si eu un catraliard de seriale,nu-i asa?
Cafea cu lapte,bomboane cu cafea,cafea pe desktop.
Ma retrag devreme si presimt o noapte zbuciumata,chiar zdruncinata,rau.
Ma mir si ma inchin ca am supravietuit zilei de astazi.

I wish I had the guts

I wish I had the guts to stop being afraid of every petty thing I encounter.To just breathe and become.To punch all my nefarious demons square in the jaw.Some people are born this way:untamed,raw,ready to face the world with a smirk on their face every single day.Me?I usually hide under imaginary rocks and disgustingly sweet smiles.To be fair,there are days when I don't feel alive at all,just stuck in a loop where I age without even having memorable events brought upon by own will to think about.Hell,even the blood in my veins must have gone stale.
I wish I had the guts to kiss the boy I like and then tell him my name.To leave him wondering and just walk away.To stop waiting for a savior that dwells solely in my mind.It's tragically pathetic that we depend on another to be "happy",if you ask me.Why can't I be enough for myself?Why do I have to earn my share of love on this earth?Why can't I be meaningful and content by myself?This makes me mad and sad and sore around my lips.
I wish I had the guts to say "no".To refuse much too demanding tasks,clingy friends,false echoes of greatness.I'm a damn sucker for acceptance and still unwilling to break my facade.
But I don't even have the guts to say the things I write out loud.

Kinky...?

We think about boys.We sometimes think about girls.We admire curves and peek behind tight jeans.We dream about things we aren't allowed to say out loud.We lust and love and blend everything into a joke.We dress ourselves in black clothes to hide red lace.We spot gorgeous people out of the corner of our eye and wish the world would stop right there,right then.We shamelessly watch racy art.We tell jokes that make us howl with laughter instead of blush.We can be so beautifully childish.We crave to be adored and feared.We listen to songs that teach our blood how to boil without erupting.We know how to use a mischievous smile as efficiently as soft loins. We don't need to be perfect to become beautiful.We are young and dumb and wonderfully alive.We don't need approval or permission.We dream about you while you dream about us.We can make a touch feel like Heaven.We hide tears and spread smiles.We need to learn that "myself" is really enough.We can show passion through a handful of words.We have our bodies as weapons.We fight with red lips and feline eyes.We change the world every day.We are blessed.We can be kinky too,you know.

All over again

Dear self,

         Why?You know it's not worth it,none of it is worth it.Not your health,not your fading sanity,not your fleeting happiness.The only thing beyond repair is death,remember that.You'll grow wise and silly one day,you'll be able to truly laugh at your own mistakes,you'll find someone to love you for all your infinities.If not,you'll learn to love yourself and make the best out of this finite world.

         You don't need pity and you sure as Hell don't gloat on envy.Let this sink in and hold on to its shipwreck: you're imperfect and that's alright.Your beautiful family will always be there for you and true friends will find a way to find you underneath your stealthy layers and there's not a single reason for you not to be alive.

          It feels like Hell all over again for some reason?Then walk on flames and don't be afraid to reach out for your own version of Heaven.Screw their conventions!Screw their disbelief!Screw everything and anything that makes you feel less than the person you really are,even if that person is yourself!Life is meant for living and you deserve to do it your way.

          Make boys wonder.Make girls question.Make yourself believe you're worth everything you never allowed yourself to believe.Take a deep breath.Count to ten.Let go.That's it.The past is yours,the present is yours,the future is yours.

With love,

that part of you that smiled today

First round

N-am uitat alarma.Nici urletul neuns al metroului.Nici macar locul pe care mi l-am ales in fiecare sala de curs.Dar nu mai am emotii sau senzatia ca orice greseala va face Universul sa-mi cada pe umeri si sa ma striveasca.Ma duc la facultate,imi fac treaba,punct.Oare magia inceputului este doar atat-iluzie?

Nu ma mai mira cerintele fantasmagorice,bibliografiile interminabile ori examenele atat de fragmentate incat notele par ca depind de fiecare curs.

Sincer,nu pot sa repet anul trecut,nu ma tine corpul si nu ma lasa pactul minte-suflet.Pentru ce?N-o sa fiu niciodata "cea mai buna",stau foarte linistita in privinta asta.Inca astept sa ma prinda din urma curajul mediocritatii,stiti voi.

Oricum,deja sunt obosita si plictisita si ingropata pana peste cap in carti (deocamdata) imaginare.Dar,de data asta,nu ma mai dau cu fruntea de toti peretii si iau lucrurile la rand,pe rand.Toate au o rezolvare in definitiv si trebuie neaparat sa invat ca realitatea ce mi se prezinta este adesea fara ghicitori complicate.

Regret?Nu cred.Sper?Enorm,dar invaluit.Incerc?Pe cat pot si imi permite natura.

Dupa prima runda de facultate propriu-zisa,ma simt putin dezamagita si "secata".Insa sunt zile si zile,deci nu ma pronunt inca.Sa vedem ce aduce urmatorul rasarit.

N-am uitat sa pun alarma.

Red,sad and blue

Nu vreau,nu vreau,nu vreau.Nu vreau sa plec,sa ma prefac,sa fiu o stanca tare ce se macina usor,dar sigur,in raul saptamanii.Ma plang de parca am 5 ani,dar nimeni nu ma ia in serios cand spun ca ma simt inutila si consumata si trista.

Parca le "am" pe toate,nu-i asa?De ce sa-mi urlu inabusit nebuniile in stanga si in dreapta?Nu stiu.In speranta ca ma va auzi si crede cineva presupun.

Am invatat un truc,totusi:sa-mi maschez disperarea existentiala prin glume si ras.Mai atenuez contrastul dintre ieri si azi putin.

Desigur,simt ca exagerez in parte:nu-mi vine nici sa ma arunc sub trenul tras in gara,nici sa-mi fac bagajele de cum ajung la destinatie.Dar...parca deja se afunda un gol in mine.Plec-ma mai intorc?La ce o sa ma intorc?Cum ma mai intorc?Am atat de multe semne de intrebare adunate in corp si nicio urma de punct.

Nu pot sa stau pe loc,o stiu.Insa cat o sa mai merg fara destinatie,doar cu speranta unui semn salvator din viitor?Eu ma agat de cuvinte si ma ascund sub o armura ruginita in interior.

Sper sa citesc aceste randuri peste ceva vreme si sa zambesc sincer.Acum...Dau din umeri."O sa fie bine".O iau de la capat cu alta minciuna.

Azi am purtat pantaloni rosii,am carat o inima albastra si am esuat in a masca o fata trista.

Cooking with kittens

Am ajuns la concluzia ca fericirea mea nu se scrie folosind majuscule,ci in litere mici,marunte si simple.Un pat moale,un mic-dejun cald,o cafea bauta cu ochii inchisi.

Mi-era dor?Da.A trecut atat de putin timp si deja mi se se facuse dor de o plimbare prin oras,de placerea micilor cumparaturi,de urechea intelegatoare a tatei.

Cer eu oare prea multe de la prezent?Nu stiu.Stiu doar ca astazi m-am simtit implinita facand lucruri pentru altii si ca n-as da acest sentiment de placere dulce nici pe cea mai egoista fantezie sculptata brusc in realitate.

De exemplu,mai devreme am gatit cu pisoiul alb cocotat pe umar si cu cel negru privindu-ma curios de pe un scaun.Radeam,dansam,murmuram mestecand in oale si mai-mai ca-mi venea sa cred ca visez o punere in scena a animatiei "Ratatouille".

Sunt eu putin nebuna?Sunt.Imi pasa?Nicidecum.Am avut o zi incarcata si frumoasa?Am avut.Ma mir singura de cat de naiva este satisfactia mea.

O seara placuta in fata televizorului,pisici neastamparate muscandu-ma de degete,o patura pufoasa folosita pe post de cocon.Macar nu se poate spune despre mine ca sunt pretentioasa.Adevarul este ca apreciez "minunile marunte" ale vietii pentru ca stiu ce inseamna veninul ce se aduna in lipsa lor.

Imi doresc numele scris mic,marunt si simplu.

Bed of dahlias

the arctic teeth of autumn
are munching on my skin,
but my hands are cupped
around sunshine
from this summer's dream

a useful body on a useful path
to braid together leaves
and gently carve the sky
out of a plant-
I feel a wicked sense of pride
in the way purple fingers
fervently create
lies

I fed life and quickened death
by spreading the ashes
of a forgotten storm
on a bed of dahlias
with palms praying
towards the sunset

my tigers are smaller
and my jungle is less thick,
but this air feels pure
while it's crawling into my lungs
and cleansing my wounds
to a sleeping sun's
pink

I'm alive and I can numbly feel

Get me home!

It's like an itch you can't scratch,but you know you'll soon be able to and merely the thought of that relief brings you a sad amount of joy.No,I don't have an embarrassing rash,just a knack for very visual analogies.Anyway,today was the big day!

I am home.You can all be relieved,I'm safe and sound and fairly sane.First things first:school kinda doesn't really suck,though I already regret saying these words.The only disadvantages are that it is so freaking far away and ridiculously demanding and,well,...school.College.Whatever.

Long story short,our ride took forever to arrive where needed,I was on the run all day (therefore sleepy as heck) and it's so damn cold outside that I would sacrifice my first unborn child for this weather to just cut us some slack already!But I shouldn't be complaining anymore because I feel like a kid on Christmas morning.

I ate dinner with my folks,I showered my cats/kittens with so many kisses that I'm bound to be coughing up hairballs for the rest of the week and,I kid you not,I literally smooched my mattress.Laugh all you want,but I know I'll be weeping for my back by the end of the "academic year".

All in all,I'm glad to be where I feel like I belong and I'm ready to make the most out of these coming few days.

Home,sweet home...

Dripping clouds

revelation of the day:
Noah is alive and challenged,
only his ark appears to be
merely a sunken ship now

my lungs are soaked
in this filthy,weeping weather
and breathing is a chore
of misplaced tears

the few flowers I can find
are on my pillowcase,
while the sole lighthouse in this silent storm
resides in noble miracles
on the ceiling-
I could just swear the mold in my mind
has blossomed into royal crowns
of angry despair

the wind-a howl
that brands your cheeks
with crimson
the people-faulty pawns
with fleeting perspectives
of damned redemption
myself-a sullen ghost
which the past would
mourn

the clouds are dripping endlessly
and Noah fled the scene-
we're humidly doomed

Second rainy year

A bed of nails would have been softer,though this nocturnal symphony couldn't have been less burlesque.
The first coffee of the month in a mug adorned with blood red hearts-oh,how ironic!
The never-ending question of "what to wear today" meets a rainy street and a lazy subject.
Waiting for the right hour,waiting for the right perfume,waiting for another ride on the subway-what a load of "dead" time!
My second year of college began with a noisy hallway,administrative matters,(un)friendly colleagues,a dubious cluster of "why?"s and so much more rain than I would have bargained for.
It feels the same,but I know it's kinda different and I don't know what to make of that.
Impatience really helped me build up an appetite today-too bad my dinner had such a gloomy background.
I can't stop thinking about home because I have absolutely nothing to do and everything useful reminds me of that sign with the name of my hometown plastered onto it a few hundred meters from where I stand.
I can just hear my mother scolding me for being such an "ungrateful baby",but that's all in my head and I'd rather be hearing it from her own mouth.
Fantasy can be a good cure for aching hearts,I'll give you that.Cute boys also help.
I'll drink my strawberry tea and just...hope for the best.A second time around.