What a night!

What do you get when you put together a "freshly" neutered cat that won't stand being on its own,an Arctic Monkeys blog (with matching soundtrack) and yours truly,with an accompanying ache brought about by the wisest of teeth?

Well,you get a sleepless night,semi-hallucinations and a general sensation that you've greeted the New Year one night too soon.

It's one thing to go to bed at a time that barely misses the sunrise,but it's a whole other story oscillating between sleep and restlessness from about 3:30 am to 7 am.
And,thanks to this most memorable experience,I've spent today as a zombie,with no interest in school or life or anything.I "stole" a nap,but even that was a fail because my loving and fat kittens decided to keep me warm (as in "they sat on my chest and I woke up because I couldn't breathe anymore at some point")."The adventures of a pet owner"-live and uncut,ladies and gentlemen!

Anyway,today doesn't even seem like the last year at all!There's no snow outside,I'm spending tonight at home and I feel pretty darn miserable,to be honest.

"The end" never felt so incomplete...

Too bad for empathy...

When I die,it will be by my own hand.And not my real hand (hopefully),but of that intricate metaphor which combines all that I am into one.In short,it will be love and hate and everything in between.

I'm such a frightful creature,though!While most of the time I strive for the screaming part to be internal,there are circumstances,even common like the one today,when you just can't hide shaking hands and a trembling voice.In part,it's utter feeble character,I'll admit wholeheartedly,but what I'm most afraid of is loss.

I don't have much,but it surely feels like a lot when I suddenly realize it's risen dust and that it must someday fall again.I can't even bring myself to say the word,let alone...

I keep on trying,even though I almost swore I wouldn't do it anymore.Why can't I keep the promises I make to myself?Maybe that's a form of cowardice as well...

If I could,I would gather all the pain surrounding me and I'd pour it into myself.It makes me miserable to the core when I see someone or something that I love suffering.Me?I'm a tough cookie,I can take it-even when I can't.But them?
I guess it's a matter of perspective.Though I suspect a long night ahead...

Little miracle

and,for once in a lifetime,
this Sunday doesn't feel like
a cement claw
awaiting for me to fall
to my knees
and surrender

normal coffee,normal blanket,
normal worries-
no weird gut churning,
no apocalyptic mid-day crisis,
no peculiar sunset,
which seems like a blessing
and a spiritual kiss

maybe the calendar broke
into little pieces with
no name or identity,
so that I could live
in sequences
of emotions and rainy days

so,for once in forever,
this Sunday didn't break
my heart

Family all around

Waking up before 9 am on a holiday is just wrong.
Red sweater,black pants,I'm ready for a revolution,yes.
I should really learn how to drive this summer.
I will never feel as embarrassed as when my father yelled at my mother in front of distant relatives.
This is where I'm supposed to be-in the middle of nature,soaking up all its richness,learning how to enjoy the silence yet again.
Delicious food,a warm room,lovely grandmother-is there any other type of "good life" besides this one right here?
If the whole college thing goes to the deuce,then I'm becoming a full-time photographer.
It should be physically impossible for me to walk around after that much food.
Though not often performed, this "family visiting ritual" never fails to have something special to it.
What a beautiful sunset to seal such a beautiful day!
When I said "I'll stay in the car",I never imagined waiting for about 2 hours in the cold and dark,but whatever.
I've managed to start missing my cats after not even one full day.
Candy and stories-I'm in.
I'm tired,but I know I won't be able to sleep,so let's stare around the room and reminisce...

Older honey

   My dearest friend,

   Another year has gone by and,by God knows which miracle,you have still decided to call me "friend".You may be older,love,but you're not wiser...

   I thank you for accepting me as I am,college-smothered and crazy-coated and all.You are one of the most wonderful people I know and I'm grateful to the Universe for deciding to put us in parallel desks in high school.

   Your insanely good drawings remind me of winter poppies,star-like stories and black&white anatomy;they also remind me how blessed I am to be around such an artist and person from which I can learn to grow.

   You've always been there when I needed a piece of advice or to rant or just to fangirl over people who have descended from the Heavens onto this earth to torment us with perfection.Though I am sorry for not always being there when you needed me,I really am.

   Thank you for all these beautiful years and late-night talks and cups of coffee shared on sleepy mornings.Thank you for all those silly,inappropriate jokes and memorable summer songs and green-tainted photos.Thank you for being you.

   Happy birthday,love!

Yours truly,

A.

Not a plan in sight

It's a bloody curse,no more,no less.There's no other logical explanation.I mean,how would you otherwise account for the fact that I can never make any sort of plans?

If I want to go somewhere,something inevitably comes up or I get "people fright" or whatever.If I want to write,then the walls seem to be caving in and a sudden urge to hide under the bed overwhelms me.If I want to watch a movie,the TV turns all fuzzy or we have relatives coming over.My "carpe diem" is really fucked up,man.

People say I'm crazy for thinking this way,but I think it's just rather sad and a little tragic.I mean,I even chose where to go to high school at the last moment.Same goes for college.What's next?Don't answer that.

I am literally afraid to plan ahead because I always get this gut feeling it's all going to go to Hell.Why even bother then?

And,in all honesty,it's frustrating when others laugh,but I really do feel powerless.And it's not only about the small things...

I'm not good at "living the moment",but I seem to be forced into this truce by an invisible force.So I can't promise anything-ever.

Yep,not a plan in sight for me.Which is basically...awful.

"Merry Christmas!"

the tree is freezing in another room
and I'm too angry to go see my "present"
and I spent the morning reading
and my grandmother kissed me on the forehead
and the cats have stinky breath
and I can't talk to my mother
and the sun is a cheapskate
and I'm drowning in cold music
and this sweater is itchy
and the world might as well have stopped turning
and dinner is a joke
and coffee is my new religion
and the "holiday cheer" seems real only on TV
and I can't remember the last time I painted my nails
and I can't stop eating oranges
and I feel like utterly giving up
and dad said "thank you!"
and I wish I had more courage
and the room appears to be a dimming cocoon
and the air is filled with sparks of fire
I wish I could turn into stars

I don't get it

It doesn't feel like a holiday anymore,not one single bit.

I remember being a kid and taking pictures under the Christmas tree.I remember the sweetness of everything around me and how it felt right falling asleep while waiting for Santa Claus.I remember an innocent sort of happiness I'll never feel again.

Time went by and here we are now.What happened along the way?Where is at least one spark of that young magic?Why do I seem to be greeting the end of something?

People are angry and I'm thinking about distant responsibilities and the lack of snow outside is making me miserable.

I don't get how tomorrow means the first day of Christmas,it's a very surreal concept.Yes,mom's making food and there are colorful lights around the windows and the TV screen flaunts the same jolly-themed movies,but...why?It might as well be a chilly August day-I'd rather be willing to ignore the calendar than admit I'm becoming more and more numb.

These are just simple days of idleness before the storm.

I miss being a child.I miss the way chocolate tasted that morning.I miss being happy and not knowing.

Lack of spirit

You know what I hate most about the holidays?The fact that we just can't get along as a family.
Every single year there has got to be some sort of problem or fight or both.I'd hate to say the word "curse",but I can't seem to find a better substitute.And it sucks to think that you'll never get a glimpse of Christmas spent as they show it in coffee commercials or whatnot.
I don't want perfection,far from me such an impossible goal-I just want us to get along,to be somehow happy,I don't know,not fuck up another chance of being together.I'm tired of feeling like I'm walking on glass ,that I should always calculate what I'm about to say,that we're a time-bomb on the verge of exploding.
Christmas isn't what it used to be anymore,I understand it all too well.But I can't become a child any more than they can,so we'll have to make do with the present.
I don't care about gifts,about oranges or about a tree,I care about us first and foremost.Well,I care a little about the oranges though...
If,at some sort of spiritual/alien/parallel universe level,Santa is real,then all I want from him this year is balance,understanding,a family as should be.

Magnolia fields

Un deal lugubru si inecat in noroi.Picioare ingreunate de urcus.Sentimentul de groaza permanenta.Un camp intins cat vezi cu ochii in toate directiile.Copaci ascutiti si negri culcati in siruri la pamant.In cateva crengi,corcituri mari si carnoase de magnolii-bujori.Un cer limpede in tonuri stridente de fucsia si oranj.Liniste infricosatoare.Senzatia de prada.Se rupe filmul.

In sinea mea ingenua,credeam ca somnul a ramas un ultim refugiu in care sa scap de toata nebunia pe care mi-o aduc singura ca un blestem din timpul zilei.Se pare ca m-am inselat:ma urmareste frica pana si mai departe de intuneric.De parca sunt si vesela rau in ultima vreme!Acum ma lupt cu mine pe doua fronturi.Nici nu vreau sa descifrez ce inseamna...asta.Nu ma ajuta cu nimic.Nu dispare senzatia...

Duminica e intotdeauna o zi dubioasa,dar asta parca le intrece pe toate.De parca oscilez intre doua realitati,intre doua lumi,dar niciuna nu-mi place suficient cat sa ma simt intreaga.Am incercat sa-mi ocup timpul mintii cu altceva,insa ceva meschin din mine a tinut neaparat sa retraiasca iar si iar si iar cosmarul.Nu credeam ca florile pot aduce atata amar.

Late birthday

mi-a fost dor de noi,
de locul unde ne-am intalnit atatea veri,
de imbratisarea care amuteste cuvintele,
de pasul alert care ne-nfasoara cand vrem
sa cucerim noaptea

mi-a fost dor de masa din lemn,
de fumul persistent al tigarilor straine,
de vinul fiert care ne aminteste
de toate povestile pe care le-am insufletit
impreuna

mi-a fost dor de cadourile cu trecut in spate,
de secretele pe care le impartasim,
de sentimentul ca acolo exista cineva
care te cunoaste altfel
decat te vezi singur in oglinda

mi-a fost dor sa ne plangem sincer
de oamenii absurzi,
de timpul pierdut,
de intrebarile fara raspuns
pe care le traim zi de zi

mi-a fost dor de o plimbare prin parc,
de rasetele nocturne,
de clipele inghetate (literalmente) in timp
si spatiu luminat

mi-a fost dor de noi trei

Money and candy

I woke up late.
I didn't care that I woke up late because "Eff it!".
I ate breakfast and enjoyed some steaming coffee.
I convinced my dad to go shopping with me.
I cherished the fact that my bank account had money in it again (though it should have been there since 2 months ago and now it's currently drained once again,so...).
I bought candy for others.
I argued with my mother over the phone because,hey!,the holidays are almost here!
I started buying presents (what an adventure that's going to be!).
I came home and crashed into my bed.
I smothered my cats with affection.
I realized what a blessing it is to have more than one room to move around in.
I confessed my orange addiction.
I started my new career as a "handmade professional" (though my room looked like the aftermath of a textile war).
I almost gave up.
I fed my new Arctic Monkeys obsession because HELL YEAH!
I came to the conclusion that my pantry is blissfully packed with wine.
I almost broke another needle.
I figured that cats aren't great helpers when it comes to working with thread.
I shoved everything under the bed.
I called it a night.

Oh-so-lazy!

toate planurile si
toate sperantele si
toate asteptarile
sigur vor ramane in imparatia
"posibilitatii"

toate noptile prost dormite si
toate grijile stupid formulate si
toate zilele cand m-am simtit
ca un om taiat in jumatate
vor fi razbunate

toate melodiile alb-negru dur si
toate canile de cafea si
toate orele lenese
poarta amprenta mea

toate zilele de "maine" si
toate regretele de "ieri" si
toate apasarile de "astazi"
vor fi (momentan) sigilate

toate cate sunt si
toate cate vor fi si
toate cate n-au fost sa fie-
acum,le punem in dulap si
le intoarcem spatele

Hazy return

Ultima noapte petrecuta aici pe anul 2013.Spuma dulce a cafelei.Mainile deja speriate de bagaj.Bluza rosie.Usa incuiata.Lungul si chinuitorul drum de la metrou.Sala aproape goala.Participarea cam ratata.Texte faine.Ore taiate din ceas.Curs placut.Subiect important.Calorifer impartit cu o "Oaie" draga.Seminar de la care mai bine lipseam."Sarbatori fericite!".Fuga pentru castigarea catorva ore in plus acasa.Frig infernal.Brate care se incapataneaza sa tremure.Masina prinsa "la timp".Strain frumos si somnoros.Muzica de "ars" orele.Ceata fara nimic bun in ea.Amorteala de la destinatie.Saluturi de revedere.Familie completa.Masa calda.Despachetare care umple biroul de carti.Sambure de panica.Pisoi mult prea rasfatati si scumpi.Sentimentul de liniste si pace care nu va mai putea fi recuperat dupa seara aceasta.Cafea nocturna si suficient meritata.Cateva seriale "ratacite".Dorul de copilarie.Planuri mult prea marete pentru a putea fi infaptuite.Melodii cat suporta castile.Patul care nu are ceva impotriva spatelui meu.Epuizare precoce.Intoarcere prelungita-bifat.

On the roads

Scoala-te.Mananca.Incropeste o cafea.Strecoara-te (impotriva legilor fizicii si bunului simt) in metrou.Suporta linistea cel putin penibila.Chinuite-te patru ore in cel mai stupid exercitiu de "educatie" la care ai luat parte vreodata.Fugi la metrou.Injura aglomeratia.Rascoleste toate holurile caminului.Desparte-te de bani.Asteapta la xerox.Blesteama-ti geaca mult prea groasa pentru un astfel de maraton.Asteapta metroul (din nou).Recupereaza-ti prietena la urmatoarea statie.Ia (din nou) drumul facultatii.Respira.Profita de apa existenta ca o camila in oaza (frumoasa comparatie,stiu)."Pescuieste" un covrig de prin ghiozdan si boteaza-l "pranz".Incearca sa nu adormi pentru urmatoarele 2 ore (desi cursul este superb,tu esti terminata si-ti cam vine sa mori).Plimba-te o statie cu fetele.Intoarce-te (parca impotriva vointei tale) la camin.Mananca.Odihneste-te.Prefa-te ca inveti (pentru ce,numai Dumnezeu o stie...).Refugiaza-te in bagaje(le care te vor chinui maine dincolo de cuvinte).Asculta niste muzica (noua obsesie=Arctic Monkeys).Stai la taclale cu vecina de la 10.Pregateste-ti prezentarea de a doua zi (cica).Hai,gata,pune-te la somn!

"Secret Santa" operation

E un sentiment minunat ca in cadrul unei comunitati destul de substantiale sa se cristalizeze un nucleu uman de la sine,iar tu sa faci parte din el.Pe romaneste,"ii tare fain" sa-ti gasesti o "bisericuta" si sa simti ca te leaga o prietenie frumoasa de oamenii din ea.
Daca mai adaugi si elementul de "cadou surpriza",atunci chiar ca ai reteta unei amintiri "bune".Daca toate zilele de luni ar fi ca cea de astazi,ce bine ar fi!Am dat,am primit,am bucurat,m-am bucurat,ce mai vrei?
In tot frigul si nebunia care ma inconjoara,am gasit in acest gest o mica forma de evadare pentru care sunt recunoscatoare.In plus,mi s-a facut inima mai mare cand am realizat sa ne stim,ne cunoastem,dar ne si recunoastem.Nu mai mentionez faptul ca suntem toate niste nebune si ca ne comportam uneori de parca am avea cel mult 5 ani,asta e confidential.
Ideea de baza este ca mai uit de mine si de problemele care-mi orbiteaza in jurul fruntii (fie ele reale sau nu) cand facem efortul de a demonstra ca ceva merita efortul.
Mosule,ai fost un scump!Iti multumesc si promit ca-ti fac prajituri bune anul asta!

Giving up

Pot,dar nu vreau.
Singurele 3 clipe de fericire pe care le-am simtit vreodata au avut mereu radacinile in prima gura de cafea de dimineata.
Mi-e mila de mine insami cand realizez ca tot entuziasmul imbuteliat nu se transforma niciodata in energie utila.
Orele dintre "acum" si "tren" sunt stupid pierdute si nelinistite.
Zapaceala de "papoy" raspandita peste tot,e amuzant de scump!
Imi pun cadoul in geanta si ma bucur de o bucurie straina.
Mai plec mult fara sa vreau?
Citeste,Adriana,ca doar la asta te pricepi in ultima vreme...
Hai sa ne jucam de-a "cati oameni incap in vagonul asta fara sa ne rasturnam?".
E mult prea frig,renunt,ma duc sa ma agat de Ecuator.
Oricat de mult incerc,nu pot sa numesc spatiul asta stramt si alb "casa".
Rutina salveaza totul,dar la fel de bine ingroapa orice speranta de evolutie.
"Film sau carte?" nu mai e pentru mine o alegere,ci o trista obligatie.
De cand am renuntat eu oare la cea de-a doua cafea?
Cel mai mare regret curent al meu este faptul ca n-am niciun talent practic.
E grav daca am ajuns sa-mi fie frica de oameni.
...ca tare-mi era dor de salteaua asta!
Nu vreau,nu pot,lasati-ma.

A world of loss

m-am saturat sa privesc in urma
doar ca sa adun
fragmente de huma si sticle

m-am saturat sa-mi fie delimitata inima in
"important","esti nebuna!",
"de ce dracu' plangi pentru asta?",
eu nu sunt o masina,
duceti-va si urlati voi intr-o fabrica!

m-am saturat sa ma simt neputincioasa,
de parca mi-ar fi mainile
din polei
si viata un scenariu in curs de dezastru

m-am saturat de obligatii
care prevestesc
pastile de tensiune si viziuni contorsionate si
un psiholog lasat in cabinet plangand

m-am saturat sa ma subminez
singura

m-am saturat sa pierd tot ce
iubesc

m-am saturat sa-mi traiesc viata
ca un mort

More bitter than sweet

I can never win,can I?Not one single fucking time...Any and every ounce of happiness I collect seems to instantly become a magnet for tainted loss.
Why?Why?Why?!Is it a curse?Is it blinded perception?Is it merely life as we know it?Fuck it,fuck it all...
I wish my heart were smaller and more bitter.Love begets heartache-always has and always will.And I never learn to care less because I simply can't.And I hate it,I loathe it with all my flesh and bones and everything!
I'm tired of tears and anxiety and feeling like others see me as a madman!Fucking Hell...Why isn't it an option for the ground to split open and swallow you for all eternity?I'm angry and I desperately want to break something,but I'm afraid somebody's already crumbling now...
I never want to care again.About anything.Or anybody.I want to be hollow and numb and incapable of emotion.I want to feel as if I'm not.If this is living,then stop the world-I want to get off this ride.
Crushing my temples in my palms isn't helping,neither is any sort of distraction.Silence is worse.I can't even cry.Fuck feeling.

Not so great expectations

the taste of words lingers at the back
of my skull
with broken diplomacy and I'm drunk
on stories I wish were carved
in my own pen's
blood

"never expect anything" should be tattooed
onto my heart
with silver threads because,my God!,
I'm such a sucker for beauty
and no-win scenarios that so often
crawl
in my mind and in my hopes and in my
stomach

I'm a "rock star" when it's dark both
inside and outside
this world I feel rejected from because
of my own flawed conception
about how life should go
and dreams should become
and lies should be told

I'm done
with my own faults

Vapid days

Lost,lost,lost.Utterly lost.
These are vapid days that contribute to my being with no more than ticking hours,endless needs and growing headaches.Waking up feels wrong and going to bed becomes pointless- everything in between is just a hazy labyrinth which I can't seem to defragment on time.
Still,there's no escaping from the chaos,only momentary blindness and numbing of your soul's senses.Chores are gathering like black armies all around,a rush of inevitable loss,yet I can't gather the strength to face them.
I get scared,I've always been so.Of everything and anything,especially when I take a step back and contemplate the horizon of my own life.I know I won't change the world,but must I really feel like I'm just...there?
I wish the person standing in the mirror could talk back more wisely.I wish the person in my mind would become real one day soon.I wish I could somehow view myself as a person in its full substance once again.
Such days are tiresome...Not because they greedily steal time,but because they emphasize its loss.
My tongue is sticky and completely annoyed.

Facing myself

I hate waking up early in the morning.
Nightmares mortify me.
I hope I dreamed that cockroach crawling on my finger.
I used to loathe the color red when I was little,but now I don't shy away from it anymore.
I can't stand the fact that my stomach and courage fail me when I'm nervous.
I am 99% made up of coffee.
I write better than I can talk.
I can't stand stupid people,even though I'm one of them.
I see myself as though I'm another,yet still myself,and I often don't like what I'm seeing.
I believe making other people happy is in itself a source of joy.
I never get used to how many gorgeous people are on the subway each day.
I'm constantly thinking (and worrying) about home.
I am incapable of speaking my own mind.
I'm not ashamed of having that many pillows.
I could positively do without these sickening headaches.
I wish I were one of the "cool kids" for once.
I am always so damn angry on the inside.
I would turn into a cat if given the option.
I desperately ache to find a purpose.
I believe I will never marry.
I am wasting time.
I could eat a muffin right now.
I need to face myself once an for all.

Frozen soles

the sun is drenched in mist
this morning
and my legs are stiff with time
spent in the dark

my lives are fractured pieces
spread between
those I love,those I loathe and
those that are gone

I'm always fascinatingly angry
on a Monday-
do "new beginnings" feel like an end
all of a sudden?

chunks or the crowd
elude me
in a twisted sort of dance
underground

the moon is a hidden,broken
jewel,
but I'm too poor to rob
the stars

I am because I breathe

Idle being

Nu-mi mai pasa.Nu mai pot.Nu mai am energie.M-am saturat de oamenii aia si de "balaceala prin cunostinte" si de faptul ca tot ce ramane dupa atata amar de efort e o cifra.
Sincer,mi-e rusine cu mine: mi-e rusine ca,desi au trecut atatia si atatia ani (de chin),eu tot nu am invatat sa invat (pentru mine).Asa ca ma chinui singura si ii trag si pe altii de mana cu mine.
Prin urmare,eu incep sa renunt.Imi bag proverbialele picioare si ma dedic in exclusivitate inertiei.
Pentru ce,frate?Sa rada oamenii meschini de tine si sa realizezi ca lumea nu e lume,ci jungla de asfalt si hartii si aberatii?!Nu,multumesc!Mi-e bine in nepasarea mea stagnanta.N-o sa se aleaga nimic de mine,o simt si o stiu.Dar trebuie sa invat sa nu-mi pese,asta e singura solutie.
"Nimic nu conteaza","nimic nu conteaza","nimic nu conteaza"-poate imi intra in cap cu forta...
O sa beau cafea pana se termina.O sa fiu fericita cu portia.O sa ma prefac ideal ca sunt altcineva si ca-mi vizionez propria viata dintr-un corp inconfortabil de familiar.Atfel nu pot sa ma impac (in toate mintile) cu realitatea.
Patura trasa peste cap,ochii focusati,mintea placut redusa la burete.
Ma reduc sistematic la "fiinta" fara "a fi".

Delusional syndrome

our bodies should have
self-destruction buttons
for all those neatly crafted daydreams
that leave behind their
comet-like tails
merely despair
and coffee-blue tongues

misery is honey when served alongside
universes left unborn
and unfit
to conquer the reality of dirty hair
and tainted teeth
and ages never to be reversed
or revived

but how I ache for this poison,
this delusional syndrome
of a life well spent!

in my imagination,I am the queen
and my king
is never the same

not once have I wanted to be
somebody
more than today

Run for the gun!

For such an unexciting life,I sure do run a lot...
And it's not so much about the action itself,but the restlessness that lies beneath these worn out soles.Where am I going?Why am I doing this?What am I running for?I'd hate to draw a conclusion in the form of a morbid metaphor,but...But.
I'd laugh at my own balancing act,but that would be just sad and cruel.Though the way I cover my own growing insecurity under the masks of "family" and "duty" is a joke I can hardly bear anymore.What should it be then?Forced maturity or slow descent into the mediocre past?Because of the two evils I must choose that which causes less tears,be them real or not.
"Is this the time for life-altering decisions?" I ask myself.Of course not!I'm home,I'm safe,I'm tired.My bones feel like broken twigs and everything seems possible...in my imagination.You cannot picture the rush of courage seclusion brings about!Maybe that's why it's so damn depressing to witness the confrontation between the hero in my mind and the stale image of the present...
I run.I'm constantly running-not towards,but from.From myself,from change,from limitation.One day,I'll find that gun.

Not people

They are not people.
They are but glass figures that break everything in sight,for fear of not being crushed themselves.
They single you out with scheming eyes that twist kindness into perversity and love into condemnable lust.
They disguise their need to use and abuse under sweet masks that sometimes crack and ooze.
They take advantage of even the slightest display of humanity because they seem to consider it a flaw or a weakness.
They smile when facing you,but grin when you turn your back.
They have souls that come through in the end as wounded animals.
They know how to win battles with a minimum of effort because they draw success from others like parasites.
They never know how to take a hint or,maybe,they pretend frighteningly well.
They render me very,very,very tired.
They desire to conquer and command and I don't have the willingness to stand in their way anymore.
They say "thank you!" while the rattling of a snake echoes in the background.
They are the reason why I lost my faith in the human race- because I know bad breeds don't easily go extinct.
They don't deserve names,only slight shrugs.
They are not people- not to me.

Floating hours

Some days aren't even worth the trouble,to be honest.
In retrospective,they seem to have been meant for a prolonged nap and maybe some strong liquor (to numb the nightmares).Why waste that much energy just to have the pointlessness of everything displayed in front of you like a burlesque show?
I never do let everything sink in- that is except for when I'm idle and prone to overthinking all the small details we tend to overlook in our daily routine.Then things get out of hand and out of logic and I start to freak out and I don't want to talk about it anymore.
Now I can say I truly understand those people who wouldn't be caught dead wasting time by doing nothing- activity keeps your mind busy,away from the hurtful ghouls of human confinement.Too bad my bones are drenched in laziness.I guess I must bear the curse of my own formation...
I'm staring at the ceiling,but no epiphany is going to drip from it onto my forehead soon.Maybe if I'll concentrate enough,I'll become a plant.In some aspects,I already feel like one,so why not embrace it wholeheartedly?Good God...
Remember when I mentioned I severely lack courage?Well,nothing has improved in that particular area.
Stupid,floating hours...

Wasting borrowed time

tick-tock goes the clock
past my crimson swollen
heart

tick-tock drum my temples
as the sun sends shivers
in the afternoon

tick-tock break my soles
in dirty alley corners
after dark

tick-tock swallows the bed
heaps of hollowed pens
tonight

tick-tock cries my breast
against iron claws
that spiral

tick-tock blush my arms
beneath admired cloth
in the morning

tick-tock goes the clock
without even stopping
to watch

Unfaithful alarm clock

Why is it that nothing goes as planned for me sometimes?I mean,I've had worse nights and yet I've managed to get up on time and go to class.Today was not one of those days...

No,sir,I woke up with the sun blazing through the windows and a general gut feeling of "Fuck!".Anyway,I dragged myself out of bed and the rest is history (and by "history" I mean "another shitty day").
Mondays usually are chunks of meaningless time,but that's another thing altogether.The main idea is that the smallest of things can make the most "majestic" of human constructions crumble.My little devil was a red alarm clock today,which I don't even remember "meeting" at the appointed time,but whatever...
I'm tired and I'm pissed on life.I'm lacking that spark which turns "survival" into "living" and I'm willing to slide into oblivion.
I don't know,man,I'm just so...strange.Strange-a stranger when facing my own core,when meeting familiar people as if for the first time,when waking up in the morning to see a 7:22 clock.This existence is such a peculiar thing,don't you believe?Full to the brim with questions and always so reserved when it comes to answers.
Why is it that nothing goes according to plan?!

Warm jacket

Astazi este o zi speciala,dar eu nu o simt ca fiind asa.Este inca o zi in care plec,in care vremea trage spre albastru,in care nu mai stiu ce si cum.Ma consoleaza haina pufoasa si sentimentul de rutina pe sfarsite,dar...Dar.

O profesoara draga mie a spus candva "libertatea este cea mai grea alegere"; am stiut inca de pe atunci cata dreptate ingrozitoare avea.Am avut de ales toata viata,chiar si atunci cand am refuzat s-o fac.Pacat ca deciziile nu-si dezvaluie imediat urmarile...

Chiar as fi vrut sa raman astazi acasa- sa stau,sa ma uit la TV,sa nu-mi mai pese de atatea inutilitati grosolane.Totusi,m-am suit in tren la cererea viitorului.E oare un fapt atat de condamnabil sa vrei sa traiesti mai mult in prezent?

Pe mine ma apasa timpul rau de tot...Nici cu trecutul nu mi-e rusine- daca il uitam pe el,atunci le lasam cale libera monstrilor sa repete greseli de nerepetat.

Imi doresc...Imi doresc o memorie dulce,oameni mai buni,sa nu mai plang de cate ori aud melodia "Acasa" (damn it,Smiley!),un soare mai prietenos si un scop in viata.Nici n-am pretentii,nu-i asa?Sunt singura in seara asta si mi-e greu,atata tot.

Astazi este o zi speciala; poate ca asa sunt toate zilele,dar am uitat noi sa le simtim ca atare...