Can I live like this forever?

Why would I voluntarily leave this bed?Why would I ever?!
Dad's cooking wins all the awards in my eyes.
Though it appears Hell froze over and has now resurfaced, a small "business" trip becomes more than lovely with the right company.
I just have the silliest smile on my face sometimes...
Strangers giving you compliments are today's angels.
Buying stuff for others makes me happier than buying them for myself.
These cats and kittens of mine are just the funniest and fluffiest and most adorable beings on the face of the Earth.
How can a dog have such human eyes?
I'll never love another garden as much as I love mine,that of my childhood and bright memories.
Having dinner with my family in the kitchen (a proper one!) is probably the highlight of my week.
I am perfectly aware that I'm not doing anything college related right now and,honestly,I couldn't give a flying duck about it.
Milky coffee,playful furballs,cozy blanket,good TV shows,gorgeous music,personal and private room-have you ever heard of a more selfish Paradise?
Not to jinx it,but I think I'm actually happy right now.
If I can go another night without nightmares,then this is going to be one triumphant weekend...

Let's go home,train...

Somebody asked me why do I always go home for the weekend.The question made me want to both laugh and cry at the same time.

I don't know,maybe because I have mild panic attacks each time I arrive here?Maybe because it's hellishly hard to live confined in a particularly small space with a person that doesn't share your blood or personality?Or maybe because I don't have the slightest idea what I'm doing among cockroaches and pointless responsibilities,when all I want to do is be home with my family?

I think her first impulse was to tell me "Get a life!",but my eyes don't lie and they want out.

So,I'll carry around with me more stuff than it's comfortable.I'll beg of my teachers to let me leave 10 minutes early.I'll run to/in/within/out of the subway because the clock and the ticket aren't quite merciful.I'll spend 2 hours on a train that's as full of burlesque surprises as a circus."Why",you say?.For me.

For my sanity and my aching body and my hungry emotions.So I can shed the mask and be raw for a while.To really breathe for a couple of days in a bloody week.

I can't let go because I don't want to let go.Why should I?I may not know a lot of things,but I do know this:life's too short to give up on the people you love.

So yes,my home is my sanctuary and I get to pray every few days.

Colder winds

the colder winds have come to settle
and my limbs are numb like twigs
and hurt with purple

winter reminds me of blue and death
and how,by living,I'm only being drawn
nearer to the end

the lovers on my mind are ghosts
made up of haze and lust,
songs of a life built upon ashes

why are these streets so noisy?
why am I only bones and feelings?
why do I bleed...

if I cry,it's not a daughter of sadness,
but a healthy son of wrath
and perpetual organic consternation

I want to be a character in a book
with black covers and golden writing
and passions beyond hope

I'm shivering in my coat because
my flesh has forgotten how
human warmth can heal

my I.V. is constantly pumping
hopes and illusions I grow
at the back of my swollen brain

the colder winds have come to settle
and my being craves to surrender
in the hands of inertia

Fuzzy insides

Cateodata,ma apuca o dragoste imensa de toti si de toate si simt ca mi se taie respiratia gradat.In momente de acest fel,maruntaiele imi iau foc,mintea imi devine un camp electric,iar viata are brusc sens.Sa fie oare o revelatie organica?

Nu stiu,dar stiu ca atunci simt ca pot sa iubesc si ca iubesc din toate celulele si ca pot fi iubita,da,chiar eu pot fi iubita.Nu-mi explic aceste explozii de existenta concentrata decat prin faptul ca mi se metamorfozeaza intreaga tristete periodic si devine o fotografie in negativ...pozitiva.

Devin un cer inchis in piele si artificiile din mine ma gadila,ma fac sa rad,sunt mai mult decat un om:sunt toti oamenii din lume si,pentru cateva minute trecatoare,Dumnezeu e la fel de real ca insasi creatia sa.

Stiu,suna nebunesc intregul concept,insa nebunia nu exclude neaparat realitatea...

Astazi,imi scriam impersonal existenta la inca un curs,cand m-a apucat "nebunia" si ochii au vazut mai frumos haosul din jur.

Nu inteleg,nu vreau sa inteleg,vreau sa cred in ceva,in orice,numai sa gasesc un stalp,un stalp in tot oceanul din jur...

Nu mi-am uitat pastilele de dimineata,nu,nu:cafeaua a fost dulce si fierbinte,(aproape) mereu e asa.A fost si asta o experienta.

Cateodata,misterele acestei lumi ma dau peste cap,ma infasoara in lumina si ma saruta lung.

Skills and sentences

Am I my body or my brain?My given assets or my cultured skills?My fake charm or my raw bitterness?

Am I the child who believes or the woman who wants to forget?The smoldering fire or the foamy sea?The times I blindly obeyed or the ones when I painfully cut loose?

Am I the girl who stayed at home so many nights or the one who got infuriatingly stupid-drunk that one time?A learning mechanism or an actual "clever cookie"?A lost cause or a forming path?

Because I'm having trouble understanding myself and the way in which I think others perceive me.Yes,that was a coherent sentence,believe it or not!

I've sort of been following this mentality of "I'll hate myself first,before you get the chance to" and judging my own value based on how many (read "all") good grades I get and yes,I am such a fucking loser sometimes it's properly unreal.

I rarely believe or trust a compliment,especially when it's coming from a friend.I'm jealous of other people's success and I become ruthless when it comes to my own flaws,mistakes,limits.I oscillate between not caring and caring too damn much,to the point of mentally breaking.

I need to figure myself out somehow,be it with sentences or holes in a wall,but it's paramount that I finally find an answer.And soon...

All this anger...

...shouldn't be mine.It sounds foreign and brutish,yet it's building up from my core and it's rising,rising,rising to a point which I don't want to see culminating.

This is supposed to be a happy day and I should be home right now,yet I'm spending my finite existence among strangers and doing things that are far from making me smile.

My heart swells bitterly and my palms clench into fists and it all just doesn't seem like living anymore.Have I become so powerless that I must resort to violence in order to make myself feel less...doomed?Damned?Desperate?

I'm too young to be wishing for oblivion.Craving happiness has turned into more of a curse than a blessing the moment I took my first step out of childhood.

I understand,we're constantly living among others and we have to adapt ourselves,but we're talking about our only shot here,people!Why must I mold myself to a pattern?Just because it renders me completely numb?I don't want the sort of inertia which makes bread go stale,though I'm not keen on starting a revolution either.I only want to be left alone in my crafted sanctuary,with balanced passions and a soothing routine.

Why do we insist on making the most simple of things into smothering burdens?

I'm angry and I don't have any answers and I want to eat cake.

Family celebrations

My spine could kiss this mattress.
A lovely meal with lovely people is sickeningly lovely,as you can imagine.
Kitty,it's not like I need those college courses,so chew away!
Do you remember acting like a spoiled child,without actually being rude?Ah,sweet memories from 5 minutes ago...
The cold is settling in,but I've got my blanket and my cats,so I'm good.
Grandma's joy upon seeing me safe and sound at home is my joy as well.
I can't remember the last time I watered some plants.
Not even kings have had such feasts,I can assure you of that.
Surprising mom with a handful of books for her birthday (a day early) has left me with the memory of her shocked face and scolding kisses("Why didn't you show them to me on Friday?I could have read one by now!").
Should I read or should I take a nap after all this cake?Like it's even a question...
I can feel the little ones having a race with their soft paws behind my back and I can't help but smile.
Milky coffee,a comfy bed, "The Lone Ranger",mom next to me-I would like to celebrate like this every single day,please!
Tomorrow will most definitely be a rough day,but the future always exhausts me and I'd rather live for now now.
False studying and complaining over the phone-just like old times!
This has been a good day.

Long hours of nothingness

Sunt ore dulci si scurte in toata leneveala lor si nu te mai saturi de ele.Provoaca dependenta,la fel ca vata de zahar si saruturile.Si de ce le-ai parasi de bunavoie?

Sunt ore in care nectarul negru are mai multe mistere de dezvaluit,coconul trupului se incolaceste in sine,Universul se concentreaza intr-un singur minut scos din toate ceasurile lumii.Sunt ore languroase si senzuale,croite pe coapsa unei femei brune si pe apusul unei veri in care am cules amintirile ca pe poame.Sunt ore in care pisicile torc pufos in timp ce dorm pe calorifer,iar patul nu are niciun arc meschin sa-mi tulbure geografia oaselor.

Paradisul meu e rustic si lipsit de podoabe,suficient de ascuns incat sa nu fure ochii nimanui.In mod ironic,nu pacatele m-au facut sa cad in "Infern",ci dorinta de "mai bine".Poate aici s-a produs caderea:am tanjit dupa binele meu prin binele altora,o scapare psihologica de neiertat...

Sunt ore pe care nici nu-mi doresc sa le recastig cumva,secunde de miere lenta si minte impacata.Sunt ore in care orice cearta isi pierde fierea in virtutea a ceea ce ar putea fi in loc.Sunt ore pe care le iubesc din toata inima mea de "inca copil".

Sunt ore in care aparenta nimicului inseamna ceva mai mult decat "nimic".

An "old" young friend

Inca o dimineata,hai,mai trage putin...
Metroul miroase a aglomeratie-din nou.
M-am saturat sa-mi pierd ore din viata la ore care nu-mi plac deloc.
O sa ajung sa alerg dupa tren si in vis in curand!
Imbratisarea unei prietene bune este exact medicamentul de care ai nevoie la mijlocul unei zile epuizante.
Ne cunoastem si ne indragim de mai bine de 10 ani,iar asta se simte in povestile comune,in intimitatile impartasite,in modul similar in care ne inspaimanta viata in ultima vreme.
Gara albastra,tatic zambaret,succes garantat.
E tare bine acasa:sunt bombardata din toate directiile cu mancare buna,camera ma asteapta primitoare,pisoii mi se "gudura" pe la picioare,iar ai mei nu mai stiu cum sa ma rasfete.
Oare de ce e mai buna cafeaua de aici,oare de ce?Poate pentru ca e savurata cu drag,nu bauta din necesitate.
Asta a devenit o rutina confortabila de care nu vreau sa ma mai satur...
Imi explodeaza inima de un sentiment nedefinit si asa stiu ca pot sa respir linistita.
Pentru cateva zile,nu am decat responsabilitatea propriului abandon.
Bunica stie mereu cum sa ma faca sa rad.
Mi-e somn si n-as dormi,vreau sa mai trag putin de starea in care perfectiunea e simpla si viata devine frumoasa...
Bun si bine,bun si bine.

The things I go through...

Honest to God,is this who I am now?A stooping,tired,scared little piece of flesh?Seriously?!I'd say it's preposterous,but then I'd be kidding myself.I never was one to willingly admit I can't do or don't know something...

But reality is harsh and I must come to terms with the fact that I'm living in a world which demands some sort of "superhuman",while all I'm able to offer is a little more than a child.

It's frustrating to have to comply:"I don't want to be here,learning this or doing that!I'd rather be on the Moon or in my dreams or reading a book I'll never be able to write,jut not this!".You'd be surprised how much this thought has insisted on playing in my head on repeat for some time now...

To be honest,all the worrying about nonsense is merely lost energy and I realize that,but some sort of old fixation keeps dragging me into a spiral I so wish to break.

There must be a way of living your life without (occasionally) wanting to die...How do I look for it from behind a barricade of books?How do I remember to live for now when I'm constantly being pulled between the past and the future?

Maybe going home will clear my head a little.Because,at this moment,I feel like the things I go through aren't worth a single dime...

Silver or feathers?

Determining your self-worth is a process which more often leads to agony than an epiphany.In a world which thrives upon competition and rivalry,there's no room for the shy or the slow or the feeble.There's no room for me...

I keep trying to make myself understand that I shouldn't be thinking like this,but everything around me proves otherwise.Sometimes,we're more like hyenas than ourselves...

Should I weigh my importance in the world using beads of silver or baskets of feathers?They'd amount to the same quantity,I'm sure,yet the quality and external appreciation would most certainly differ:feathers are fleeting,silver sinks low...

I'm growing more and more tired of myself and the world around me,wishing I could just weave a cocoon around me and disappear for a few centuries.Or until the world stops shrinking.

On the one hand,I'd like to fight and assert myself and become somebody.On the other hand,my bones are hollower than a bird's,yet I still can't fly.Why does falling always win?Icarus should know better than me...

Lesson of the day:no matter how hard you try,you'll never be enough,and I don't know whether this scares or soothes me in some peculiar way.

One day,maybe I'll understand it all-but not today...

Coffee-stained hands

Jumping out of bed in the morning would be useful if not taken so seriously and literally by my damned mattress.
Preparing two coffees in the morning is oddly satisfying on a Tuesday.
Who would have thought English could be such a tedious language around the wrong people...Oh,the bittersweet irony of it all!
Cold steps,endless books,justified gossip-college is not what they portray in the movies,kids!
I'm awake and I'm still somewhat sane-that's all that matters right now.
Spending time with my friends is positively lovely,but this stubborn cold wind insists on turning a short walk into a freezing trial!
You never understand how much you depend on your body until you're utterly famished and exhausted.
My brain won't stop reading imaginary books in my sleep and my head just doesn't want to let go of a damned headache.
One day,I'll grow weary of my books and bloody burn them-oh,wait...
Strawberry tea to make the bitterness of these pills fade away.
No matter how tired I am,silly cat videos never fail to make me laugh.
Can I go home now,please?
I remember my peace of mind like it was never.
I have pictures to remind me of what I love and music to help me feel properly.
Oh,night-again?!