Saturday, 22 June 2013


     Stai intins in pat, cu capul pe o perna ce nu iti apartine. E aproape comoda, asa ti se pare. Langa tine, in mica veranda spre care se deschide camera ta, sta larg deschisa usa. Tu ai deschis-o, doar ca sa auzi mai bine sunetul ploii.
     Afara ploua de minute bune si tu te simti ca atunci cand erai copil. Ai vrea sa iesi afara sa privesti fulgerele; te multumesti, insa, cu lumina care patrunde in camera ta. Auzi tunetele din ce in ce mai puternice si iti potrivesti ritmul batailor inimii cu al lor. Iti doresti sa intinzi macar o mana afara pe usa, sa simti picaturile de ploaie pe mana ce n-a mai incercat de mult un astfel de sentiment de infiorare, ocrotire si mangaiere, iar de plouat a tot plouat.    
     Vrei cu disperare sa iesi afara, sa lasi ploaia sa te scape de probleme, sa iti spele pacatele si sa ia cu ea tot plumbul din suflet. Ramai, insa, tintuit in pat, cu genunchii adunati la piept, inganand un cantec vechi ce iti aminteste de cine stie ce clipa, traire, persoana sau loc.
     Te condamni pe tine insuti pentru imprundenta de a deveni vulnerabil, de a-ti pune sufletul pe tava sau de a-l lasa la voia intamplarii. Incerci sa il impingi afara din camera, sa poti respira linistea si racoarea noptii, dar din veranda se aud deja soaptele unor amintiri. Te ingrijorezi, cum faci intotdeauna, si il dai afara in ploaie. Tunete, fulgere, suvoaie de apa pe trotuare si totul ramane neschimbat.
     Sufletul tau e rezistent la apa..

Friday, 14 June 2013


   If things go crazy, then make sure you go alongside with them. It usually turns out just fine.


Monday, 3 June 2013

Part I. Chapter one: The way it goes

Because sometimes we need a different sort of pain.
We never search it, yet we crave for it.


            “What do you say when there’s nothing to be said? “

            This is what you would have seen if you had taken a glance at Tom’s thoughts. Still, a hole in our main character’s head wouldn’t be the best choice for a beginning, would it?

            Tom considered himself to be depressed. Some would say that he was rather bored and, maybe, he was. He was bored of life. He never said it out loud, he never complained about it, he didn’t even try to cure it. Tom learned to accept his condition the way you learn to embrace your mother’s dancing moves. No matter how hard you want her to stop, she’ll just keep going in front of all your acquaintances and relatives. Therefore, you end up ignoring her, telling yourself: “Eh, there’s been done no harm, at least.” Deep down, though, you’ll keep begging for her to finish her representation.

            And this is what Tom was doing with his own mind.

            The best way to picture Tom is lain down on his back in the center of his bedroom, trying to see the clouds through the ceiling. Why does he do that? I mean, why not. He stands there, with his arms pulled under his head, thinking about...just thinking. Nobody really knows what his thoughts are. Maybe, sometimes, Tom doesn’t know either.

            Tom sees himself as a screw-up and, sometimes, he is right. Yet, usually, he couldn’t be more wrong. You see, it is just a lot easier to consider yourself a failure and settle for that, instead of getting up and trying to actually do something in order for things to change. It doesn’t suit him, though. There’s nothing easy about Tom or his life or his mind. This boy beats himself up with any given occasion and has this annoying tendency of going through past events over and over again, analysing each and every word he said, from every gesture or action, to almost counting breaths and blinks.

            Some may say that he finds pleasure in complicating his life. Still, pleasure may not be the correct term, neither satisfaction, nor accomplishment. Tom puts himself through tough times so he can feel alive, so he can sit there in his room, watching the clouds through the ceiling, knowing he deserves to be in this world, knowing he earned his place on this planet. After all, the more life refuses to give you lemons, the more you crave for a glass of lemonade. And Tom used to be that guy that searched for lemons and kept doing so until, one day, he could no longer see the point in finding them.