Insight decembrie 19, 2010

I heard your voice the other night

Whispering wind to my ears

Worm as the breath of fire

Enlightening my heart

With happy sadness.

You brought back hope

The chills, the thrills, the tremor and the shakes

The earthquakes, the sunrises and the storms

You brought the moonlight at my window.

Sweet as caramel

Bitter as vermouth

Powerfully suffocating me

You came back and tried to settle in.

I tasted you so many times

I felt you deep inside my being

You conquered me over and over again

Only to leave me in despair.

Each time you’re heavier

Each time you’re stronger

Each time you win me with your beautiful lies.

You are perfection.

You are the purest.

You make us smile

You give us power and make us invincible.

I love you most and they all do.

You haunt our lives to get our best

And when you leave there’s nothing left.

We search for you in every bottle

We search for you in every soul

In the worm bodies in our beds

And in the hollows in our heads.

You give and take as you well please

You love to play and love to tease.

We love to love and we love love

Love makes us love and we make love.

I do not want you. Go away!

My heart pumps blood, not love this time

And I don’t need you to be mine.

Go win another person’s heart

I’ll keep my own for me just now

Don’t want to feel your claws again.

The scars you left are bleeding still

I know you’ll feel no rest untill

You’ll win me over

I can tell

But just for now

Love, let me be

I’m doing well.

A blink of an eye noiembrie 15, 2010

Last night I made love to the nature.

Covered in leaves I laid down and kissed the earth.

The air’s caresses gave me the chills

While gently removing every leaf, exposing my body naked.

The grass caught my hands and tied them down;

It felt like soft green velvet ribbons on my skin.

I could feel the tips of the wind’s fingers moving up and down my body

Until I could not breath anymore.

I made love to the sea and the birds sang.

I felt its waves moving inside me while the wales swam beside me.

The fish tickled my feet and the mountain kissed my lips.

It burnt like a volcano and spread ash in the sky

It trembled like a tornado until it died.

My naked body was laying empty on a bed of leaves.

The world was silent. The worms could hear my rhythmic heart beats.

The grass could feel my heavy breath. And there was dark.

It felt like cold stinging iron born in ice.

Was it a dream? Am I a ghost? Or you’re not real?

Toes in the sand octombrie 26, 2010

The dust start spinning

My heart stopped beating.

Mechanical pens are bruising the paper

Innocent girls are taken by the reaper.

I let myself loose in my crazy mind

Though I might get lost trying to find

A spiritual side that’s never shown

The part of me that I don’t know.

Are you in there again?

Inception me with love this time

Put every breath of Cupid in my heart

Let Eros pierce each of my pores

Call all the gods. There by the shores.

The tides will wash me

And I’ll be clean as a pearl

Only to be locked in another shell.

A lovely day by myself octombrie 23, 2010

I love coffee. I think Sturbucks coffee shops are the best places for writing. It’s so noisy and they play good music – if you pay attention to it – and most of the people there are also working. It’s an unprofessional working environment, it’s like doing something you’re forbidden to. It’s dirty and cool.

I find it fascinating how I can hear the music, look at the people around me but still remain in my own world. I can hear them talking but it’s a pleasant background. I could never do that at home. I can’t even read with music at home. Most of the time I write during the night or late in the evening. Though I need peace and quiet to concentrate, it seems that noise can be a better background than the powerful and heavy quietness. I like it when I get lost in my thoughts and I look at someone drinking their coffee or talking or getting dressed and I don’t think at what I’m looking at, I’m just trying to find my words. I stop writing, look at a shelf or some cups or people around or a table and take a sip of my coffee and get back to my paper. I think I do the same thing at home too but I probably know my room so well that it does not relax or inspire me anymore.

I also love sunny days. But not summer sunny days. In summer, all days are sunny, so they’re not special. But autumn sunny days are magical. It’s chilly but the sun makes you think it’s worm outside. The natural bright light just makes me smile. It’s amazing how much the sun can influence my mood. I instantly wake up smiling when it’s sunny outside.

I just took a break to listen to the funky jazz they’re playing here and it makes me feel like dancing.

I love it how thoughts roll into my head and start dancing around going from one thing to another and then coming back to the first, connecting to another one and so forth.

My recipe for a perfect day: autumn, a lot of sun, a big good coffee, writing to do, noisy place, good music, thoughts and smiles.

And on top of that, on my way home, as I was reaching for the elevator’s door I heard a beautiful violin sound. I stopped asking myself where was it coming from. Does someone who plays the violin leave here? I started walking up the stairs, slowly, listening to that beautiful music. As I was going up I could hear it louder and louder. When I reached the third floor, it stopped. I stopped too, waiting for it to start again. But it didn’t. Disappointed, I continued walking. On the 4th floor I could hear it again. Louder this time. I was getting close to it. A few more steps and there it was. The man playing the violin so beautifully. I stood there, at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at him and listening to his violin in a trance. It was so beautiful I cried. I felt tears coming slowly down my cheeks as I was smiling to that gorgeous sound. I closed my eyes and cried. He finished his song, passed by me as he was going one floor down. I was so shocked I could not react. I looked at his violin box. It had 5 lei. I couldn’t move. I started walking and he started singing again. I burst into tears and continued going up the stairs. I got home, stood inside for a second and went back on the staircase. I was leaning by the wall and listening that violin crying as my tears joined it. What a beauty! I started walking down the stairs again. He was on the third floor. I gave him all the money I had in my pocket. He thanked me and changed to allegro for a few seconds and then went back to his song. I burst into tears again as I was going up the stairs. So much beauty!

The noisy stillness octombrie 7, 2010

The railway usually takes me to you but today you’re not there. You have left taking the stairs up above. You wanted to see the blue sky and the bright sun. You got tired of their reflection through the millions of pieces of glass and the unnatural light from the bulbs. You wanted to feel the heat straight from the sun. You got tired of the coldness of the iron railway and noisy train. You wanted silence and the sky’s warmth.

The sun still shines, the sky is still blue, the train still comes, the bulbs are lighten but there’s no one there. And everything’s still.

Reveals septembrie 29, 2010

“I have to write! I have to write! I have to write!” says a voice in my head. “But I’m tired and sleepy. I have to wake up in the morning and go to work.” “Write, write, write!”

When something hurts really bad, like my head or a tooth or my “heart” I start moving my body back and front like in a swing but slower and I try not to think of anything, to clear my head, to escape from my own thoughts about the pain, concentrating on the movement of my body. That’s how I was moving a few minutes before as I was waiting for the computer to start. This characteristic is usually found at the autistic people when they get scared or angry or at people with mental diseases. I’m not autistic. I have lots of friends and I talk to strangers and I’m bad at maths and numbers (though all my life I’ve been counting to sleep or when taking a ride somewhere, in the metro or while waiting for someone who was late. I usually count every other number like 2, 4, 6, 8,10, 12, 14 and so on. I don’t know why, but it clears my head. I only told this to one person and she laughed at me and I said “I know I’m crazy”) and I like going to new places and I don’t hate certain colors and I don’t really like crowded places but I can deal with them and I definitely don’t like strangers touching me, but then again, who does? And I understand feelings. Oh, and I’m not a genius. So, I’m not autistic.

I have times when I feel sad for no reason. Or angry. Or depressed. Or all those together. Nothing changes in my life but I feel something is missing and I get more and more sad every day and I don’t want to see people anymore and when I do, I’m prickly, and I don’t want to go to work or do anything. I just want to read. These moments come after a few months of not writing anything. There is a voice in my head that I keep hearing all the time “I have to write! I have to write! I have to write!” and then the movements start and all those ideas keep rolling inside my brain and I have to take them out but I can’t always write when I have them. Like when I stopped in that park and I was looking around me and the grass was so green it seemed unreal and the trees were so symmetrical and neat and clean and perfect that I actually thought they were planted when they were already grown (which might be true). And the benches were all the same. And everything was so symmetrical in the form of the half moon that it seemed to be from outer space. Even the bushes were perfectly arranged behind the benches. And I perfectly remember that park wasn’t there 5 years ago, so how could those trees grow so tall in 5 years? And what kind of trees were those cause I’ve never seen anything like that in Romania before. So I wanted to write about all these things but I was in a park and had no pencil or paper or laptop. So I had to wait. And other thoughts came and replaced these ones and then others and others and others until I began moving my body and feeling depressed.

Do you know those images from the movies when they try to save someone’s life and they massage their heart? Like in Matrix when Neo massages Trinity’s heart to make her come back to life. Well, I feel like a hand is massaging my heart but it hurts. But I feel no real pain. The pain is my brain and in my body, but I don’t feel it on my heart. So I got up in the middle of the night to write and make the pain stop cause I haven’t been sleeping well lately and I feel very tired every day and I need to get it out of my head because the thoughts won’t leave me sleep. And when I have too many thoughts I have lots of dreams and if I have lots of dreams I don’t sleep well. And I thinks it’s only because of Mark Haddon and his book “The curious case of the dog in the night-time”. And now that I got all these thoughts out of my system I hope I’ll be able to sleep. But I’m afraid more thoughts will come.

No sense septembrie 27, 2010

I walked, you stayed
You left, I prayed
The thunder, lightening and rain came
And made our house to burst in flames.

There is no reason
There is no logic
It’s just an apple
It’s biologic.

I felt the heat
Beneath my skin
Embraced the cold
And chose to win.

I don’t do maths
And hate odd numbers
I do like cats
And use the bumpers.

Life is not us
Feathers and ash
I’ll take the bus
To the next trash.

I’ll smile and wave
And play the game
While I’ll still crave
For the white grave.

The Dream iulie 23, 2010

He lays on the bed facing the ceiling. He takes a pillow and puts it on his face. We can see the pillow moving as he breathes. Under the pillow his eyes are wide open staring at its white cover. His eyelashes touch the pillow’s cover as he blinks. He begins breathing slower and slower. The pillow stops moving. His eyes are closed now. Behind his eyelids, his eyes are gray and stuck. It looks like he’s in a trance.

TEEA

You have come, my love.

His eyes become green. He’s in an empty space, there are no clouds, there is no earth, no grass. It’s just a big sea of green.

TEEA

Follow me.

And he starts walking towards the voice. The space changes from green to light green becoming blue. As he walks his eyes change their color in the same time with the emptiness’s color.

We see a man laying on the bed with a pillow on his face. The pillow moves up and down very slowly in the rhythm of his breath. Under the pillow his eyes are closed.

TEEA

Turn around.

He turns around and sees a powerful light in the shape of a woman. His eyes become white. He reaches his hand towards the light and touches its light fingers. He slowly gets closer to the light still holding the tips of its fingers. His sparkling white eyes are stuck on the light. As he gets near, the light surrounds him, merging with him, becoming his aura but still standing in front of him in the shape of a woman. He smiles as he embraces the light.

EDAN

<moans>

TEEA

Stay with me.

He suddenly wakes up and stands up taking the pillow off his face. He’s sitting on the bed looking at the door in front of him still holding the pillow in his left hand. He’s breathing heavily. His eyes are gray. He lays on his back again facing the ceiling. He closes his eyes. Behind his eyelids, his eyes are brown.

Response iunie 2, 2010

Alcohol and alibis were your weapons for disguise
“I see through you”, yes, I thought
And all the roses you have bought
They’re still here, in my room
They remind me of my doom.
You were happy…I believed
But in the end I was deceived.
You’re the one who’s disappointed?
I tried my best to understand
I was there to lend a hand.
I loved you and your cat
You selfish and spoiled brat!
But in the end it was all in vain
Your game was long and very lame
And “pain” became my middle name.
You’re the one who’s disappointed?
Yeah, there were three acts
All of them are full of facts
Off to sleep, you “Sleeping Beauty”…

Mirrors mai 17, 2010

The clouds have disappeared, the rain is over

There are no more tears, I became a rover.

And I’m walking through a forest of shadows

Fallowing a road covered with arrows.

I see my reflection in the eyes of each ghost

Is it me or just a river of my hosts?

Have I lost myself in the others?

They’ve stolen my heart piece by piece

They tore up my soul and they don’t cease

I look at my bruises and wounds

But feel no pain. Did it end?

Am I still here?

I look in the mirror and only see their faces

It’s like I’ve been spread into million places

My life is their own

I feel like a stone.