Overbearing situations

Again,things that are not smart/"nice" (I'm looking at you,Universe!):

• staying up till 3 a.m. to watch a movie that will make your skin crawl
• waking up at 10 a.m. with the sun malevolently bursting through your windows
• starting homework,realizing it's too much to cope with,then having a nervous breakdown
• thinking coffee can solve everything (it cannot,unfortunately)
• staying to talk with your neighbor about silly things
• having to deal with a lot of baffling and confusing papers
• not knowing what to buy first at the supermarket
• finding a cockroach floating in the shower 
• trying to cope with the notion of "stubborn highlighters"
• living an absurd life and having to read about it as well
• trying to make sense of your efforts
• realizing all your hard work of cleaning has been utterly in vain
• thinking about the hellish day of college tomorrow
• trying to keep your prayers out of the gloomy side (to no success)

"Smart" choices

Going to bed late when you have to wake up at 6:15.
Attending courses on a Saturday morning.
Asking yourself how you got such a good grade on your midterm (9) when you can barely remember how you got back home that day.
Getting back to your dorm room and heading straight for your laptop.
Deciding a nap would do you good.
Realizing your nap turned into a full blown sleeping session,which left you dazed,confused and ridiculously sleepy.
Opting to clean said room (since pigs probably live in cleaner environments) and discovering you've slept the entire afternoon on a cockroach,keeping it warm and company.
Spraying so much Killtox after you're done with your almost gruesome tasks of sweeping and mopping  foreign hair that you feel blessed to end up with only a headache (and not dead,presumably).
Trying to eat something while listening to music,only to discover a careless millipede strolling on your wall.
Procrastinating on the internet, while still having to do college homework and a movie to see (also college related).
Realizing you are fucked as Hell in this life (and,probably,the other one too).

All at once

D-aia nu gasesc eu niciodata un echilibru in viata,pentru ca zilele mele sunt fie absurd de fade ("ne-rezumabile" chiar),fie absurd de incarcate.Asa se intampla cand te incapatanezi sa lasi viata sa treaca pe langa tine...

In fine,mi-am luat curajul de a infrunta lumea la purtator si am inceput sa-mi rezolv din treburi.

M-am intalnit cu my platonic soulmate (Honey,I love you) si ne-am luat bilete la Summer Well (*heavy breathing because BASTILLE*),am fost sa cumpar cadouri (what are friends for otherwise?),i-am adus bunicii flori de ziua ei,ce sa mai- om ocupat.

Plus ca am plecat la camin deoarece,nu-i asa,cum sa ratez eu prilejul de a ma duce sambata la un singur curs,cum sa nu...Norocul meu ca exista turta dulce delicioasa si conexiune la internet buna,altfel m-as fi dat cu capul de pereti acum (mai mult decat o fac de obicei,de altfel).

Oricum,am de stat mult si bine pana miercuri in caminul asta "fantastic" si deja ma doare sufletul cand ma gandesc.Stiu sa ma adaptez,dar nu pot sa accept anumite lucruri,ce sa-i faci...

Nu-mi ramane decat sa ma indop cu zahar si sa plang pe melodii triste.Ceea ce fac eu mereu,adica...

Trebuie sa ascult neaparat "Snap out of it" de la Arctic Monkeys.Neaparat.

The moon in my hand

the window is coated
with gloomy lace

my temples are pounding
with the sound
of drums made from
human skin

I have broken my
patience
and the scattered pieces on the floor
make my heart's soles
bleed from within

the moon is white and naked
in my hands,
waiting for words
to robe her with a purpose

I don't know
how to behave
when I am mad at myself

the air between us
is so tense
it could slap you across the face
if cut with a kitchen knife

the stale smell of air
lingers in my brain

I can't seem to be selfless
enough
to keep my misery from breeding

...and again!

Why does school happen to good people?Well,not me (not yet,anyway),but my brother-which means I have to get into this routine of his as well while I'm still at home.

Ugh,why can't I suspend time and thrive on bucketloads of TV shows and coffee alone?The gods of procrastination are treating me awfully nowadays.

Anyway,maybe his starting school will jump start my academic drive as well,since I have almost forgotten I actually do attend college (apparently).What are books?What are responsibilities?What is life?!

Excuse me,I'm still emotionally compromised because "I'M WITH YOU TILL THE END OF THE LINE". Indeed,I need a moment,please.Yes,I get invested in fictional characters like that,kudos to me.

It's rough,though,having to plunge into another stream of tedious activities after a long period when your only concern was not to forget (how) to breathe.I mean,I feel even more tired than before and my interest levels are at an all time low.

Even so,I'll leave aside thinking about the future because I'm in no mood for a panic attack.

Instead,I think I'm going to rely on sweet oblivion one more day-that's all I'm good at after all.

"...till the end of the line"

Pentru ca eu sunt o sora perfecta si extraordinara (*cough cough*),am decis sa-i fac un cadou de Sf.Gheorghe fratelui meu (George,adica) si sa mergem impreuna la Bucuresti (pe cheltuiala mea,se intelege).

Lasand la o parte panica generala de acasa (pentru ca,asa e,nici n-am eu 21 de ani si el aproape 14,nu,nu!),a fost o zi mai faina decat ma asteptam.

Am ajuns bine,ne-am luat numai prostii (dulciuri si jucarii LEGO),am dat o fuga pana la camin (I'll contain my rage for another time concerning this),apoi ne-am plimbat prin AFI (a se citi "ratacit enervant de mult pentru ca n-am fost in stare sa ne urcam pe primele scari rulante vazute") pana sa inceapa filmul.

Normal ca ne-am dus la "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" in 3D, iar singurul mod in care pot rezuma experienta este citandu-l pe insusi fratele meu:"Am fost compromis emotional".

Ceea ce este curios totusi este ca,dupa toata ziua asta de "du-te,vino",el a mai avut energie sa se duca la antrenamentul de baschet,pe cand eu inca zac mormaind in pat,cu pisicile misunand pe langa mine si sperand sa-mi treaca senzatia de greata (daca mananc tampenii,asa-mi trebuie!).

In definitiv,a fost o experienta memorabila si deja ne-am pus amandoi bani de-o parte sa o repetam.

Domestic roots

leave me be with my
crumbled sheets
and stinging sides

leave me be with my
chopping,hungry teeth
and bloodshot mind

leave me be in my
lightning-house cocoon
and letter craving
skin

leave me be in my
uncertain future
and made up past

leave me be with my
domestic roots
and foreign loves

leave me be with my
cathartic rivers
and purple thighs

leave me be with my
unholy stomach
and circular days

leave me be with my
illusions and
thoughts of a better
ending

"Holiday" redefined

Cand eram mica,toate sarbatorile aveau un aer special.Craciunul mirosea a portocale si a caldura,iar Pastele insemna hainute noi si zile insorite.Am crescut,am imbatranit,s-au schimbat povestile.

Acum,parca ne incearca pe toti in casa un aer de enervare si tristete de cate ori trebuie sarbatorit ceva "oficial".Oare am pierdut prea multe (si prea multi) sa mai simtim fericirea la date fixe sau ne-a pervertit societatea in care traim?Nu stiu,chiar nu stiu...

La Prohod n-am mers anul acesta (bunica a fost prea obosita-cozonacii cer multe de la om!-si a ploua teribil),iar Invierea a fost,cu scuzele de rigoare,un fiasco.

A turnat cu galeata pana am ajuns acolo,au inceput sa sune toate telefoanele mobile cand au iesit preotii afara (pe toate limbile si melodiile posibile,desigur),lumea parea ca executa mai mult un automatism decat un gest spiritual si cate si mai cate.Pe scurt,ma mir ca nu s-a pravalit peste mine biserica atunci si acolo la cat am injurat.

Iar ziua de Paste in sine a orbitat in jurul meselor (copioase) si a papoy-lor si a lenei generale.S-a instalat apatia,asta constat...

Nu pot sa fac nicio urare acum,nu-i mai simt de mult timp esenta...

Useless child

Mark my words: having a child is like gambling away your sanity while being blindfolded.

Sure,you can do your best to try and mold a beautiful human being, but creation has its habit of surpassing the "depth and breadth and height" originally imposed by its master.

In other words,you can get anything ranging from an angel to an asshole.

Me?I think I'm somewhere in between.I'll have my days of "domestic martyrdom" and general fluffiness towards my family,but most of the time I'm just miserable,lazy and deeply lost in an existential crisis only I understand (apparently).

For example,mom is in the kitchen right now,toiling away to prepare food for Easter (which is tomorrow-hey,who knew?!) and I'm here in my room,writing about silly things that no one cares about (including me sometimes,to be honest).

As much as I want to help her,1.I don't think she wants me to (she gets possessive like that with the kitchen) and 2.you couldn't get me to move right now even if you used a crane.

See,you're gambling with the outcome,each child at a time!

Ugh,when will I ever learn to behave like a "normal" human being...

12 on the dot

I am nothing

don't worry,I swore to tell
nothing but the truth,
be it one that masks
a phantasm or one
that startles the insane

unconsciousness
revolves around divine numbers
when the flesh
grows weary,
not caring whether the sun is set
or beaming its obnoxious
glow

I could have sworn I saw
blue petals dangling
from my ankles
mere moments ago...

a symphony of crackling bones
presides the opening ceremony
of the morning,
while bubbling eyes moan their clarity
into pillows-
what did I do to deserve life?

I swear I have no pleasure
brought about by being
in the middle of
a swelling body and an inarticulate mind

My bones are weeping

to feel the unbridled joy
of gentle degradation
as your bones weep with the gratitude
of the saved

for such a stinging pain
of pleasure
has never dripped from tainted walls
and dusty floors-
I feel as dead
as never alive before

could those be ivy-fingers
crawling up my thighs?
or velvet cockroaches entwining
in the hollow crevices
of this spine?

I'm too numb to protest

my limbs have turned
into marble,
you could carve another
out of them


what did I hear just now?
the flutter of wings
or my own sinking lungs?

rooted lips of envy
sing one final song
for the undead and weary

On the cold run

I never thought I'd hate rain
or rusty clocks
or people who forget
how to be mundane

my soaked heap
of fabric and memories
stands sprawled
at my feet,
while I clutch,both trembling
and weary,
to the mirrored soul
next to me

wheels turn

people come and go

houses melt into
a single tableau
of green and gloomy
veins

a voice marching in my ear
tells me misery
is universal-
ah,but so are its nuances,
terrible stranger!

I arrive, I say "goodbye",
I depart-
such are the days
when you are
on the cold run

Snap out of it!

Dear me,

I know it's hard and scary and generally not worth bothering anymore at this point.But...

Do it for the ones you love dearly and who love you back.Do it for those silly cats that will most likely fall asleep at your feet tomorrow night.Do it for yourself,even though  you don't think you deserve it (or anything,for that matter).

The past few days have been rough,but you'll manage,you always do.And if you can't,you'll put on a face to mask the truth and that's that.

Does living on the ground floor make it easier or harder nowadays?Don't answer.

Keep in mind you're going home tomorrow and that all pain is temporary,even that hollow one that's too stubborn to leave your chest.

Rely on the small feats of everyday life and stop worrying about the future.It's practically impossible,I know,but I'm feeling confident in your abilities.Well,mostly because it seems like I'm addressing a stranger,not my actual self-which makes this entire exercise even weirder-but who cares.

Made you smile,didn't I?Gotcha!Now,pack your bags,say your prayers and go to bed.Your body will heal and your family will be alright.

Some lies are worth believing in,aren't they...

With love,

A.

Upset chest

there's a black hole
in the middle of my chest-
when I gently press with a finger or two,
the threads encircling the galaxies
cradled by twelve pairs of ribs
get tangled
and ache

who knew sound could echo
from the depths of nothingness?
pain too...

for never did light feel like blades
against raw flesh
such as it did today...

I can feel circles
of dust and thought
grinding against the skin of my left breast
from the inside,
but I cannot free them-
not yet...

this Universe must be kept even when
broken and shattered and scattered
around billions of orbits
with no planets to soothe them-
why must this cancerous creation
forsake itself?

my stars have died
and still I mourn their last
resentful breath...

Falling to my imaginary knees

Sunt zile cand nu vrei sa te scoli din pat de frica lumii ce te asteapta din clipa infinitisima in care iti bagi picioarele in papuci.Dar teama este nefondata-nenorocirile,mai mici sau mai mari,ajung la tine si fara pregatiri; uneori,chiar te trezesc din somn.Se poate spune ca dai un cosmar la schimb pe altul.
Parintii ar trebui sa fie infailibili,nu-i asa?Sa nu se simta rau,sa nu se imbolnaveasca,sa nu moara.
Cea mai mare spaima a mea este neputinta- neputinta de a salva,de a actiona,de a preveni.
Nu stiu cum sa ma comport cand cineva refuza ajutorul- sa tip si sa-i ofer otrava sau sa-i zambesc intelegator,luandu-i sticla usor din mana?Ceea ce e ironic,avand in vedere propriile-mi porniri...
Suntem o familie de sinucigasi,fie si numai la nivel metaforic.
...dar metafora nu se multumeste cu statutul ei,vrea carne si picioare tremurande si scenarii care te vor face sa vrei sa poti trai fara pleoape noaptea.
Mi-e frica de viitor pentru ca nu-mi promite, nu ne promite nimic bun.
Devenim atat de egoisti in iubirea noastra pentru ceilalti incat ducem sacrificiul la paroxism.
Sunt fiica mamei mele si nu stiu daca e un blestem sau o binecuvantare.
Am plecat din nou departe si cred ca mi-am lasat dorinta de a exista in urma.

Sick as a dog

Un adevar extrem de enervant este faptul ca orice actiune produce o reactiune drept consecinta.
Arunci o cana de apa pe fereastra?Va ploua candva.Spui o vorba urata unui prieten?Nu-ti va mai zambi niciodata fara o urma de amaraciune in coltul gurii.Te incapatanezi sa stai in frig si umezeala nemancat?Te cearta corpul dureros.A,si probabil racesti.
Nu stiu,eu vorbesc din experienta si scriu privind cu ochii putin "in ape".Bine,putin mai mult.Fie,plang de-a binelea,dar asta e pe langa subiect.
Ideea de baza orbiteaza in jurul faptului ca viata e de-a dreptul naspa si eu sunt o proasta si...si.Nu stiu sa-mi organizez timpul,nu pot sa-mi imblanzesc trupul, nu inteleg cum sa-mi adun gandurile in actiuni coerente.
M-am "tinut" destul de bine pana acum,dar,cum am ajuns acasa,s-a dus de rapa tot castelul de carti- ma tenteaza sa continui cu "de joc",dar nu-mi place,asa ca ramane...asa.
Problema mea cea mare este ca tot vreau sa functionez,desi fibrele din mine s-au blegit de tot,iar celulele urla la nivel microscopic "Lasa-ne,lasa-ne!".
Eu vreau sa va las,voi nu vreti!Ce tine viata de ea insasi cu atata indaratnicie!
Vreau sa ma bucur ca am creat ceva acum,"pe ultima suta de metri",dar presimt ca o sa ma caiesc amarnic...

Stupid decisions

Everybody makes them.Some more than others.I,for one,seem prone to acting suicidal most of the time,even though I don't (always) mean it.
Today was my second day of almost not eating anything from dusk till dawn,of spending countless (and pointless) hours attending draining courses,of punishing myself for God knows what mistake.
I mean,was it really necessary to go out in the cold after jumping out of a scalding shower?(my back doesn't seem to take kindly to my reckless goals nowadays either)
And did I actually presume I would get to enjoy a nice night out watching a play?Of course we didn't know where the place was,why presume such a marvelous feat...Not to mention-but I really can't mention that,though.
Fact of the matter is that I don't love myself to even care anymore,apparently.Otherwise,why would I torture my body and torment my mind in such ways?They're mundane,I can see that,but that's what makes it all terrifying -I feel at such a loss that I'll probably (an intentionally!) forget to drink a glass of water while it's pouring outside...
I need to dry my clothes and go to sleep-maybe my nightmares will take pity on me...

Soaking feet

I'll give you eternal beauty
carved into words
for a pair of dry socks

I'll trade my knowing eyes
and burdened palms
for steaming black and crimson

I'll lend you my trembling toes
for a dry umbrella

I'll renounce my fleeting wisdom
for ungrasped oblivion
underneath
warm covers

I'll throw away my crackling knees
to have a burning chest
enveloping mine

I'll twist and turn my jealous wrists
in search
of soothing balms

I'll dump aside my silent pride
for promises
I dare not conjure by myself

I'll betray my murmuring lips
for a piece
of crumbling bread

I'll curse the gods who have blessed
for I am an animal
and the storm is much too close

Wish you not

Nu iti doresc deloc sa ai parte de
oameni carora le lipseste filtrul bunului-simt,
nopti in care te rogi sa poti dormi,
ferestre mult prea luminoase,
cafea cu gust de cana,
metrouri alambicate,
holuri goale de sentiment,
ore abisale intr-un colt leganat,
incredere ciuntita si stearpa,
rasete soptite,
planuri ce trebuie neaparat ascunse,
viziuni mai mult decat imposibile,
decizii aparent benefice,
sentimentul de gol in fiinta intreaga
vreodata.

In schimb,iti doresc sa ai parte de
bucuria unei reuniuni restranse,
ecoul rasului neschimbat,
plimbari care lasa urme de talpi in spate,
glume si valuri impinse de vant,
oameni frumosi,buni si dragi,
sentimentul cald ca unele lucruri nu se schimba,
o liniste care inseamna totul,
oase care dor de atata bucurie,
promisiunea unei noi aventuri,
speranta.

Strawberry delight

lumina care se ascunde dupa draperii dimineata.
manerul canii de cafea.
o pata de ruj uitata in coltul gurii.
o dunga pe cartela de metrou.
pantofii unei straine simpatice.
telefonul greoi si vechi.
desenul pus pe geanta loiala.
omuletul impietrit de pe cealalta parte a drumului.
unghiile unei prietene.
surasul unei fapte dragute.
dulceata si bunatatea dintr-o tarta.
pixul preferat.
capacul care se intrezareste in banca.
florile din bratele vecinei.
cheile ascunse in buzunar.
semnul mare si luminos care ne vegheaza.
afisele care imbraca fatada caminului.
buburuzele de pe birou.
coperta unei obligatii.
prosopul unui baiat dragut.
mesajul unei revederi frumoase.
muscatura din ultimul mar.
dorinta unor maini neingrijite.
sunetul colorat al unei melodii senzuale.
fumul etern al holului.
pleoapele lipite de oboseala.

Packed sunshine

You have to somehow survive this spiritually,you just have to...Otherwise,how would 12 straight hours of college make sense?Especially with merely 5 hours of sleep on board...

I know it sounds nuts and it most probably is,but this is life how I know it and it's taking a toll on both my stomach and nerves.

You have to laugh at a silly joke first thing in the morning.Or let the words of fine poetry sink into your bones and sprout during lonesome hours.You need to allow your friends to comfort you,even when you feel like you don't deserve it.
I mean,nothing bad will happen if you sprinkle those couple of lecture room hours with tales of better times or stealthily eaten chocolate.
Yeah,most courses are excruciatingly boring/exhausting,but there's music and stories and your imagination is always there,right?Not to mention offensive humor that only facial expressions can ever counterattack justly.
You see,these colorful lies are the equivalent of "packed sunshine" on gloomy days-you can't go around all the time with miserable prospects now,can you?Don't answer that.
Let me soothe my aching bones for a while...

Compressed and depressed

hours neatly ironed and packed away
in suitcases that have seen
too many dirty floors

minutes seasoned with
hot contempt and cold forgetfulness
in transparent tombs
that most often hold for
plates

seconds strapped to
slouching shoulders,
molding themselves above
a crooked backbone,
slipping away beneath
a blue beast

my decades are surreal

my years are numbers

my days are compressed
and depressed sequences
of events that succumb
to evanescence

feeling becomes slightly peculiar
when serving
to a timer

I've learned to fear
the clocks which count
my existence

Bloody rant

(Urmeaza un "plans de mila" catastrofal si un limbaj enervant/"indecent"-proceed at own risk/convenience...)

Cum cacat sa ai partial la engleza sambata dimineata la 8 fix?Cum?!Ma simt de parca Universul ar fi pus un pariu impotriva mea si l-ar fi castigat prematur.
Oricum,cu cele cateva ore de somn la purtator si un creier mai plin de cafea decat de informatii,la ce sa te astepti?
Sa zicem ca primele exercitii au mers relativ bine-...bine,asta in functie de cum interpreteaza fiecare "relativ" si "primele",in conditiile in care au fost 12 exercitii in aproape 3 ore,adica...
Ultimele dintre ele au fost facute orbeste-nu mai puteam si gata.Nici nu stiu cum am ajuns la metrou,daramite acasa...
In fine,lasand la o parte dramatizarea mea de scolar ofuscat,ideea este ca mi se pare mult prea mult efort pentru (aproximativ) nimic.Materia respectiva nu ma atrage,oboseala din timpul saptamanii m-a ajuns din urma,"viata e greu",toate cele.
Nu ca viitorul s-ar arata mai promitator-o serie de actiuni mecanice sa ocupe toate spatiile ceasului cu rezultate incerte,ce bucurie!
Imi bag picioarele in ea de zi si ma ascund in pat,ce naiba...

Back and forth

The utter absurdity of things eludes me.
Why are these curtains so...lacy?
The stumps of time crawl at my feet and I cannot surpass them.
I'll read another page,I'll read another page,I'll burn another page...
To feel so wise and so absurdly hollow at the same time,what a consuming paradox.
The only solid ground my present stands upon is the quicksand of the future-how fitting!
I'm so damn tired,but this coffee is so damn good...
This room is infinitely small for an expanding sort of temporary madness.
I might just take up that offer of a "life" now,please!
I will clean,pack,pace back and forth,sing,lament-anything but actually study for tomorrow's exam...
My eyes are drowning in pink and green and pointless knowledge...
Equally bored/unwilling to study neighbors are just the thing I needed.
This time tomorrow,I'll be home and everything will have passed.
Oh,what a tedious day!

Why do I even...

rising and collapsing lungs.
liquids boiled and brewed and running.
a sheet more crumbled than a dream.
fingers tracing the contours of a fantasy.
presumptuous stares.
bored beyond belief.
the giggles and sighs of different lives.
sinking mattress.
endless books of limited letters.
crackling knees and jaw.
childish and undesired companions.
knowledge that slips away from its birth.
repetitive food.
foreign voices of familiar faces.
domestic freedom.
music that blends into your blood.
tap,tap,tap.
an existence put down in virtual ink.
funny neighbors.
the same old worries of yesterday and tomorrow.
casual confidence.
too many breaks.
apathy of the soul and feet.
no room for rebellion.
prolonged waiting.
induced darkness.

Losing track of time

I built a tower by crushing
a clock.
I fed upon the glistening liquid
of unconsciousness.
I'm the only witness
of catastrophic hands upon cups
and make-believe earthquakes
under beds.
the world has sunk into itself
while I was blinking-
ripe,moldy and obscene,
a cluster of heartache
meant to smother
the silence.
and not a moment too soon-
I am confused beyond dread
by the dripping black
of droughty water
marking what just is,
what is gained
and what is to be lost.
I can't gather a basket
of wise eyes.
I can't bring myself
to breed a revolution.
I can't swallow a handful of hours
and pretend I'm fine.

Bicycle T-shirt

Though it may seem like a joke-and very fittingly so,I might add-I have this one T-shirt that makes me feel...different when I'm wearing it.Not "good-different",not "bad-different",just...different.
It's nothing out of the ordinary,only a two shades of green,bicycle print,colorful blouse that has something in German stapled across it.
I guess it's one of those sentiments you so very rarely experience when acknowledging your own skin.
You're that one person you get stuck with,well,for the rest of your life and there's a tendency to forget it most times.
The thing is,in this sea of "comfort" and monotony,you'll get small storms-actually looking at yourself in the mirror,getting a cut or a bruise,thinking so much that it starts hurting-which make "being" more real than you could really conjure with your imagination.
And all of this because of a lousy T-shirt,who would have guessed?
Maybe it's the small things which get to you more than,let's say,enormous catastrophes.The little tragedies or events will resonate with you because they're intensely familiar and personal.And what's more intimate than a second skin?
This has been a truly peculiar day,my friends.A truly peculiar one...