Cheile

Cu totii ne cautam cheile, mereu le ratacim, cad din buzunare din neatentie, sau aluneca in spatele dulapului cu oglinda de pe hol. Avem nevoie de tot soiul de ornamente, cu care ne reprezentam personalitarea pentru a le pune la chei (eu personal nu am intalnit pe nimeni care sa nu aiba keychain, [macar unul]), ca apoi sa nu le confundam si sa le gasim mai usor. Cu toate acestea un cheia are totusi o importanta cruciala. Usi, masini scumpe, jurnale secrete, inimi, minti, dezlegari de mistere si ghicitori, fericirea: cautarea cheior este o realitate permanenta atat fizica cat si mintala.
Cand le gasim suntem fericiti si usurati - o victorie personala. Rar insa realizam ca, de fapt, noi suntem cheile propriilor noastre fericiri sau mizerii, asa ca eu o sa incetez sa mai caut cheile in alte persoane, buzunare, in spatele altor dulapuri cu oglinda sau sub alte paturi decat al meu. Suntem cu totii prea diferiti si mecanismul lacatului interior se blocheaza in timp datorita abuzului cauzat de chei nepotrivite.
And after all, the search is never really over.

Works by http://gladysbluefingers.deviantart.com

Sfidand Numerele

1, 3, 10, 16, 27, 37, 119

Pledoaria mea incepe cu ceva cat se poate de logic 1+1 nu este egal intotdeauna cu un simplu 2.
Tot asa, o intoarcere de 360 de grade nu inseamna ca te-ai intors inapoi la punctul de plecare. In ultima vreme atat eu cat si oamenii din jurul meu ne-am intors de nenumarate ori cu 360 de grade si in cel mai "surprinzator" mod lucrurile au devenit cat se poate de diferite... for better or for worse. As vrea sa pot spune ca toate socotelile astea (scaderi, adunari, extrageri de radacini dureroase) m-au facut, sau ne-au facut cu ceva mai inteligenti, mai abili si intr-un final (scopul suprem) oameni mai buni. Asta ramane de vazut. Dar niciodata nu am fost buna la matematica si cred ca acesta problema mi-a depasit abilitatiile inca de la formularea ipotezei, asa ca rezultatul (corect sau incorect, oricum ar fi el) este foarte relativ. Poate as avea nevoie de ceva ajutor, daca nu un calculator, macar o socotitoare, dar din pacate aceste exercitii nu se pot rezolva pur matematic si pentru prima data in viata regret asta.

We're just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl
Year after year
Running over the same old grounds
What have we found?
Same old fears
Wish you were here.

Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here

VREAU

Atata sunt. Asta este esenta. Vreau si regret. Nu sunt atat de tare precum imi doresc sa cred in fiecare zi si tu meriti asta. Ar trebui sa fiu la picioarele tale sa te las sa ma calci over and over again. Dar doare si nu sunt suficient de tare. Doare atat de tare si singura mea aparare e revolta care mereu face mai mult rau decat bine mai ales in relatia noastra. Urasc the ups and downs, urasc haosul si loviturile mai mult decat orice urasc sa implic alti oameni in rahatul asta. Asta ma face sa inghet mereu. Si stiu ca asta nu e o scuza pentru tine, pentru ca in primul rand eu provoc si ma lupt cu asta de fiecare data, dar inghet... Am toata vointa de a-ti inghiti voma, oricata ar fi ea, dar imi vine inapoi - I can't fucking help it, and the only promise I can make is that I'll try harder. Forever.

Si Asa Am Devenit Croitoreasa

Privesc cum se schimba lumea in jurul meu, de la minut la minut, de multe ori fara influenta mea directa, sau chiar contrar acesteia, de parca legile fizicii s-au schimat in mod unic pentru mine. Putine lucruri mai au sens, logica fiind indepartata cu brutalitate. (Asta fiind ironia cea mai mare, nevoia mea de logica marcandu-mi intreaga viata.)

Lucrurile ma depasesc cu viteze duble fata de ceea ce ar trebui sa fie legal, si sunt din ce in ce mai multe concepte, idei, obiceiuri si ganduri care sunt peste puterea mea de intelegere. Si cand am o pauza mica iar vijelia din jurul meu imi perimite sa trag pe dreapta, dau un telefon, de fiecare data la aceeasi persoana. Mereu asculta, e mereu acolo si care ma ajuta cu orice poate chiar daca cererile mele sunt complet aiuriste si ora la care sun se apropie prea des de nesimtire. Cand o sun, nu o fac ca sa ma plang, nu, pur si simplu o sun pentru ca lucrurile imi par prea incredibile si am nevoie de un fel de martor doar ca sa ma asigur ca nu mi-am pierdut complet uzul ratiunii (si pentru ca mirarea e mereu mai distractiva daca o imparti cu cineva).
In ceea ce priveste postul anterior: it's not a small world, it's really a huge one, and I'm nobody's girl - at least for now - and that is just fine by me! I need a while to patch myself up again, but no worries, I'm quite an expert - you can hardly tell. The bad part is that I may be to young for this... and I've fell apart for so many times... Si de fiecare data am luat ata si acul si mi-am cusut ranile, ca sa nu iasa prea mult dinauntrul meu, sa nu-mi pierd esenta. Dar in cat timp oare voi fi goala? Voi pierde putin cate putin precum un ursulet de plus, inca un pic din umplutura, la fiecare ruptura (+ ce mai iese printre cusaturi) . In cat timp voi putea fi aruncata la gunoi? O biata piele dar nimic mai mult. Si care dintre cei ce ma cunosc vor plange si oare cati vor simtii inauntru macar un graunte de vina? Time, time is quiet, it never acutually tells anything, it shows! It demonstrates the resut panifully, and it eventually will for me to, and for all of you out there.

Dissapointment(?)

I'm not a bad person, I just seem to make things without thinking (as of lately), I never intended to hurt anyone, and some of you people will just have to put a little trust in me once in a while. I'm not saying that's easy, all I'm saying is that it's worth it.
Oh well, at least my daddy thinks I'm fine, but then again, that's kinda his job...

I can't sleep tonight
Everybody saying everything's alright
Still I can't close my eyes
I'm seeing a tunnel at the end of all these lights

Sunny days
Where have you gone?
I get the strangest feeling you belong
Why does it always rain on me?
Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?
Why does it always rain on me?
Even when the sun is shining
I can't avoid the lightning

I can't stand myself
I'm being held up by an invisible man
Still life on a shelf when
I got my mind on something else

Sunny days
Where have you gone?
I get the strangest feeling you belong
Why does it always rain on me?
Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?
Why does it always rain on me?
Even when the sun is shining
I can't avoid the lightning

Oh, where did the blue skies go?
And why is it raining so?
It's so cold
I can't sleep tonight
Everybody saying everything's alright
Still I can't close my eyes
I'm seeing a tunnel at the end of the lights

Sunny days
Where have you gone?
I get the strangest feeling you belong
Why does it always rain on me?
Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?
Even when the sun is shining
I can't avoid the lightning
Oh, where did the blue skies go?
And why is it raining so?
It's so cold
Why does it always rain on me?
Why does it always rain on ...

Travis - Why Does It Always Rain On Me?

Photo by http://sbudacean.deviantart.com

(Voica): It's a small world, and I'm everybody's girl

What More Can I Say? (Re-edited)

This one is just for you!
I don't know why, or how, but in one manner or another, every small bit of life is still reminding me of you and it feels so surreal not seeing you. So many things changed in such short time and I need a little more (of everything) to figure things out, to figure myself out. I'm making rash decisions that influence the lives of more people than I wanted.
So just breathe. Look at photos. Don't deny the feelings that were or the ones that are, and don't close doors for the ones that could be. Remember. Take it all in, you are not doing anyone any good otherwise. Let the air flow and breathe quietly.
See I can't even make up my mind about this silly blog, and you still jump at every hesitation and just slam the door shut.

Not Here

I'm looking for Voica.
She's not here right now.
Well where is she then?
She's banging her head against the wall

Steps taken forward but sleepwalking back again, dragged by the force of some inner tide, I'll see you on the other side.