Thoughts of thoughts

I don’t know when you get your energy kicks, but mine is right now. I don’t sleep much. I can’t and when I can, it’s one of the best things I can get. I love sleeping and in the same time I’m not very succesful at it. Exactly like everything else in my life. What I really love, I can’t have. Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think? (Alanis Morisette loop).

Anyway, me and my energy kick are doing fine for now. I didn’t write on the blog for quite a while because I had too many things on my mind, and honestly I didn’t know where or when to start. So I waited to settle down a little bit.

What goes through my mind? Oh, tons of things an ideas. Tons of projects and dreams and I can’t seem to reach where I want to. It’s not that I’m stuck on the negative aspects in my life. It’s not my way. I can’t find hope in the darkest moments. Don’t worry about my hoping skills.

I always thought of myself a person of no ambition. By nature, I am a person that loves comfort and stability. I like to have my own habits and privacy and I’m visibly bothered when I’m distracted and invaded. I like to grow, but I also like to enjoy my habits. I like to be challenged, it gives me a push but I still don’t consider myself ambitious. Ambition, in my opinion, means to reach a self-set target, by any means. Even if they don’t match your capacities/requirements/personality. It’s very impressive, when you can pass anything that comes your way.

Me, I like to prove that I can do things. But these things have to excite me. Most of the times I do things because I don’t like to let people down. I am always afraid that I will disappoint people’s expectations. But this can’t last for long with me. Redundancy is something that I can’t take for long. I need to know more or to be honest I like to know everything regarding what I do. I don’t like limitations. I always want to be in control even though I don’t want to be in charge. If that makes any sense.

Many times I seek satisfaction in what I do, because I don’t have much satisfaction in other aspects of my life. And I don’t mean material satisfaction, even though that’s a key factor too. I seek personal satisfaction and I like a job well done. I like to look at what I’ve done, and say to myself “Well, Gabz, you outdid yourself!” Yeah, cocky.

Sometimes I’m good at what I do, sometimes I’m very good and sometimes I’m careless. When I’m careless it means I don’t know much about what I’m doing or it just doesn’t spark in me… what is supposed to spark. I try to learn everything and to manage everything and yet sometimes I fail. I hate to think I’m not good at something. I’m one of those people who take failure personally. Too bad. This didn’t help me much.

I believe ambition comes with motivation. It can be your self-implemented goal that can trigger that motivation or it can be an outside source. Usually when people motivate themselves is because they want to achieve a material target or a career/position goal. I desire none. That’s why personally, I prefer the outside motivation. When other people grow you. But I’m also aware that you can’t be praised when you don’t do much.

You will say that everybody has material targets and I’ll strongly agree with you. But I don’t think amounts or goods… almost never. If y ou ask what’s my goal, is to be able to cover all my expenses and in the same time to be able to enjoy life in a good way. If you think that’s not a goal, it’s ok. I would like, for example, to be able to travel whenever I want to, be it for a weekend only. Just to be able to book and flight and be gone without thinking too much.

If you think that building an empire it’s a real goal, then I’ll agree with you too. Only that building an empire consumes a different kind of currency. Time. And it’s your time. You’re the only one who pays. And it involves possible failure, something that I can’t take well. It involves responsibilities, and I hate to be responsible for others.

Many times I sit and think about these things and in the world we live, I seem naive. Maybe I am. I still believe that goals can mean a beautiful family, time for yourself and all that. To be honest if you look at the world nowadays these are rare. I think the goals game might change.

Anyway, these are things that bother me from time to time. I often find myself loyal to the bigger picture but bitter to my daily routine. And I don’t know how to describe this feeling exactly and I hate myself sometimes that I can’t be a mercenary.

And all these thoughts and feels make me think of what I really want and this is where my dilemma starts. I find myself in the position of a 7 years old who’s being asked what he wants to be when he grows up. I am still tempted to say “ballerina”.

If only everything will be that easy. If only we’d know what to do or what we want. If only we wouldn’t find ourselves lost from time to time, in thoughts and promises of better opportunities. If only…

It’s all love and late night writing shenanigans! Peace!

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Memento doar

Suntem găunoşi pe dinăuntru si nu de răutate. De durere. Că sapă. Sapă.

Si pe urma vin ăia cărora nu prea le e cunoscut sentimentul si zic “păi bine bă, ce înseamnă asta?” Păi ce să însemne? Dacă tu habar nu ai, vezi-ți de fericirea ta. Dacă nu poți să ințelegi că sunt lucruri care totuşi se intamplă altora fără vina lor, atunci stai in bula ta de fericire si lasa-i p-ăştia cu trauma să se vaite. Ca na, aşa se vede de din afară, că se vaită.

Sunt lucruri care se întâmplă, uneori înainte chiar să fi apucat să ne pierdem inocența. Aşa, abia iesiți din carapace, pac! Ne loveşte ceva atât de tare că ne schimbă viața iar lumea din jur nu stie decât sa zica “lasa bă că nu e dracu’ atât de negru!”

Da io te-ntreb “bă, da’ daca e?”

Cateodată parcă te loveşte păcatul original. Păcatul strămoşilor. Ai acolo 11 ani si na, trebuie să fii tu iedul ispăşitor.

Scriu chestia asta pentru că vad oameni care chiar nu au capacitatea de a se vizualiza câtuşi de puțin situația cuiva. Câtuşi de puțin. Chiar atât de stramtă si rigidă sa fie mintea unor oameni? Să se uite la cineva si să vadă prin el? Chiar nu există simțul ăsta de a ințelege. De a simpatiza. De a-ți tine gura măcar?

Mă uit la unii care zic “dar cum poate cutărescu sa fie asa? Eu nu sunt asta! N-am mai vazut aşa ceva!” Atunci baga capul inapoi in nisip dacă acest “cutărescu” nu e criminal, pedofil sau Firea. Lăsând zeflemeaua, încearcă să strici nițel acolo in matrix si să ințelegi că se poate, că nu toată lumea e la fel, ca nu toți reacționăm/gândim/suntem la fel. Mi se pare aşa, o involuție, ca in ziua de astăzi, să te comporți ca un neştiutor sau un atotştiutor, după caz. Să ştii tu ce simt sau nu pot simți alții, ce gândesc, ce nu gândesc sau cum acționează.

Porcării, mon cher. Dacă nu putem să vedem un pic mai in profunzime, atunci ce putem? Superficiali putem fi toți, că e usor, de actualitate şi degeaba. Hai să investim puțin, hai să vedem şi dincolo de zâmbetele astea blegi de pe fața noastră. Hai să mai intrebăm şi noi din când in când “Bă, eşti şi tu fericit? Ai şi tu câteva motive bune să te trezeşti dimineața? Unul măcar?”. Ceva de genul. Hai să nu ne mai lăudăm că suntem de fier si nu discutăm sentimentalisme d-astea “dă femei”. Mama lor de femei, că mereu strică.

Ne inecăm, ne sinucidem (cum de curând Kate Spade şi Anthony Bourdain) şi nimeni nu ştie ce e cu noi şi ce ne-a împins la o asemenea faptă. Iți trebuie curaj sa iți iei tu viața. Să stai acolo in momentul ăla si să mergi mai departe. Atât de tare sa iți doreşti să scapi de chin. Atât de tare te doare, te bântuie, atât de mult iți doreşti să scapi. Numai gandeşte-te că tu in sinea ta nu vezi o altă soluție. Că ai ajuns la capătul tuturor puterilor si deşi ai luptat o viață întreagă, ajungi acolo, in momentul ăla, în care laşi tot hăul din tine să se caşte.

Şi ai de toate. Sau aşa pare din afară. Că uite aşa pare din afară. Dar tu în tine, în fortareața ta esti părăsit, eşti rupt şi putrezit. Viu dar fără viață. Imaginează-ți că deşi ți se rupe sufletul când te gandeşti la familie şi prieteni, când te gandeşti la copii şi la o viață întreagă construită din puțin, ai totuşi tăria să opreşti firul vieții. Unii zic că e laşitate. Că nu stai să înduri mai departe ce ți-e dat. Eu nu zic nimic. Eu nu mă gândesc decât la cât de puternic trebuie să fie veninul ăla ce ți-a intrat în sistem. Pe zi ce trece să te intunece mai tare.

Si voi aştia care nu intelegeți depresia si ce efecte are ea, macar nu comentați. Scuipați in sân şi valea mai departe.

Ştiu că e cam macabru subiectul, dar cred că sunt gânduri care la un moment dat trec prin mintea noastră. Sau nu. Poate mă preocup eu aşa.

Oricum, scriu asta intr-un avion cu 20 de pasageri, am ceva timp la dispoziție, scaunele de langa mine libere şi cumva subiectul ăsta mi-a trecut prin cap… ca un glonț.

Greek summer nights

I remembered this time of the year, 2011. I came back from England in April, for Easter. I was working there as a babysitter for a Lebanese family. At the end of my Easter holiday the family decided that my help isn’t needed anymore. So, there I was, unemployed in May. On my birthday I didn’t see anybody. Kept my phone closed. Everybody knew I was supposed to go back.

I learned the bad news and I told my brother about it. Actually, it’s improper said. He felt it. He asked me what’s wrong. I told him I won’t be going back to England. He told me to go have a barbeque with friends, anyway, it was already scheduled, and then we will sort it out. See, this is the thing about my brother. He feels when I’m going through something. And he helps by acting normal. This is his super-power. He lifts people up.

After the sad news I decided I won’t tell my family. I’m talking about my grandfather, who raised me. So I decide to stay out of reach in my mom’s apartment. She was in Spain anyway. So I hid there for almost a month without anybody knowing what I’m doing. Depressed and lonely. 24 years of age and I don’t know what’s going on with my life. No income, no support. Till one day when somebody saw me going to the supermarket and told my grandfather about it. Then I had to come clean.

I tried to find a job in Romania but everything was shit man. Salary will not cover rent and monthly expenses. So I found a job in Greece. I applied. They took me. Here I am, mid-july on the bus to Athens. Took the ferry to Crete. I was on the ferry looking at the stars and imagining a fairytale. Clear moon on the mediteranean sky. 8 hours with the ferry and I reached the port. Heraklion if I’m not wrong. From there I had instructions on how to reach the resort. I was supposed to be a waitress in a big resort in Crete Island.

I reached the port and looked for a bus. My last money went on the bus ticket. And guess what? The bus took me to the wrong place, even though I had a long conversation with the driver about my destination. It took me to the wrong place and, given the fact that I was in a completely different country, I decided to go back to where I arrived and take another bus, that will hopefully take me to my destination. Good plan, but, as I said, I spent al my money on the previous ticket. So here I am, where I started, but with no means of going further. You know what I did? I saw a bar, I went in and I invented a story on how I lost my money and I need somebody to help me find my way to the resort.

I still see the image in front of my eyes. I am at the bar chatting with a young bartender and she keeps on asking me how I lost my money. Between us is a jar on which is written “tips”. I glance at it while I’m talking to her and I feel she doesn’t believe me. Probably she thought I need money for drugs or something. Tears dance in my eyes, and she feels it. She opens the “tips” jar and gives me the money for my trip. You don’t know gratitude the way I know it. You don’t know how my heart exploded in that moment. Strangers. Strangers will sometimes do more than somebody you know for a lifetime.

I went on the bus again and this time I reached my destination. 5 pm in the afternoon. I was supposed to be there at 2pm. I tell reception why I’m there and they call the manager. A Spanish guy. Ricardo if my memory helps me. He takes me in his office and asks me about my trip. I tell him the reason I was late. He’s very calm and gentle. God bless him. He tells me about the schedule and all work related details. He tells me that my uniform is ready and that there’s a shuttle that will drop me to my accommodation, in a village nearby.

I thank him and I’m happy I made it. I’m ready to go. He stops me. He asks me if I’m hungry, if I have money for food. I am embarrassed, but yet I admit. My voice strangled. He looks at me, he opens a drawer, he takes 500 euros and gives it to me. I am reluctant. He tells me to take it for now and it will be deducted from my first salary. I told you, you don’t know gratitude the way I know it. You don’t appreciate people the way I do.

We shake hands and he sends me away with the driver to my accommodation. I have no words to thank him. The ride to the accommodation it’s a local tourist train. Like the toy ones. The sea on one side, mountain on the other. Beautiful Crete. We reach to the accommodation. A 2 or 3 storey building. I am on the ground floor with one of the chefs, Polina, a Greek girl. She was never home as I, later, found out.

I didn’t realize it at the moment, but, when you go out of the building, the sea it’s a few meters away. There’s a secluded little beach with rough sand. Old people go there. There’s fish in the water. The small ones, the type that eats your dead skin. The elders are in the water letting the fish do their job. Over a pile of rocks, on the left it’s a proper beach, with long chairs and umbrellas. A few pubs and music in the distance. But I prefer the secluded one. Also to the left, uphill, there’s a small church, where later on I went and cried my sorrows away.

Beautiful church, with glasses full of colours. I went there to pray, to think, to cry. To cry my loneliness away. I still remember those day. They’ll never leave me.

I started work. I was a waitress in the lobby bar. And, man, how many glasses I broke. We had the coolest manager. After duty he will give us shots of tequila and then he’ll take us to the city to dance. I made friends. People that I still remember, that sometimes I talk to. I advanced from the lobby bar to the mexican restaurant with Argiro. I don’t know how to write her name now, but she was like a mother to me. From there I went up even more and I reached the VIP restaurant. Because this is what I do, I get better. Except when I don’t fully understand what my job is. But when I know what I’m supposed to do, I’m the best.

In the VIP restaurant I met the funniest and the kindest chef. Manthos. He made my life easier only with his presence and his words. We talk from time to time. Manthos if you read this, you should know how grateful I am to meet you in this lifetime. You are one of the good ones.

Dimitri, the hotel chef, you should also know that I respect you so much. You’re the coolest. A team I will never forget.

Then the season ended. Rain started. I was one of the last to leave. Only a few guests in the hotel. They’ll close for the winter. But that summer was one of the best in my life. I can never forget the rides I was taking with the toy train to work. Sea on one side, mountain on the other. Shepherds and sheeps. Dogs guarding them. Exploring when I had some free time. Mesmerizing green and blue sea. Skinny dipping at night. Beach parties. Bike rides. Sangria, home made, on the balcony. You can never know the happiness I lived that summer.

You don’t know gratitude the way I know it.

It’s all love and late night writing shenanigans. Peace!

 

In them thirties

So, recently I turned 31. Not a biggie. Still single. Still crazy. The road to become a genuine cat lady it’s at its glorious start. I already have 2 babies. See, see! this is the thing. When you call them babies. Just joking. They’re feline friends as far as I’m concerned and I slightly love them. Slightly.

Agonizing. I should stop.

Anyway, I was thinking about this ride from thirty to thirty one. Everybody says OeMGi, thirty is a new step, a different one, a more mature one, bla bla and blu blu. To be honest when I turned thirty I felt Twenty. Gloriously twenty! So, to act accordingly I started being a late adolescent. If in the past I managed to be more grown up, apparently I lost that aptitude when I turned thirty.

I did a lot of freakin shit! That’s what I did. I allowed myself to fall for somebody just like an adolescent, I dramatized, I became the most popular girl in school and so on.

I realized that I have a lot of friends though, and that they genuinely love me. That’s the best thing I realized. And I gave myself a break. This is what I actually did for a year. I had a vacation without guardians. And it felt good, liberating. It felt like I’m brand new.

I travelled a lot. I visited 3 new countries. I reached a total of 13 countries. And counting, hopefully. I baptized my niece, the cutest little angel. I spent more time with people that matter.

I found a cypriot God, in it’s shiniest shape and with the purest of hearts. And I was happy! Oh God I was happy like I haven’t been in ages. For what can possibly be, the only time in my life when I met a person who is all sunshine and candies. I swear to all Gods of Olympus, his presence could heal a terminal disease. A soul with no traces of perversion. He added at least 10 years to my life, in case I won’t destroy it with drugs and rock’n’roll.

I fell for a guy who vanished. Platonically! Unfortunately. Haha yeah I’m nasty. Half Chinese, half Native American. Now how freakin sexy is that?! Yeah I regret it was platonically! Man I was ready to do things for him. But, he just teleported to a different movie. Ninja kind of way.

But my pact with the devil was still on. And the devil takes his tribute. Always. He tormented and haunted me. He left marks on my skin and under it. He took those 10 years from me. Until one day… I exorcized him, only to let him come back later when I thought I was cured. Now I just learn to live with him. He hisses and tries to drown me back in sorrow with foul words. Your force is not with you anymore, Vader! Muhahaha! You are not my daddy anymore.

Yeah, I mentioned in the beginning I’m crazy.

I’ve been to weddings because I like them. I’ve been to two. I love to see hope. I sometimes imagine mine. I will dance a lot and my husband will cry at my speech. That’s it, that’s what I have till now. Ah, and my brother will give me away.

I partied like crazy. Why? Well, a question I hear a lot. First of all because I never got to enjoy myself as I should when I was young. And back then I was the unpopular one, the bullied one. And when I finally got rid of that, I was broke. And after that I was a babysitter. So, see, life’s a bitch.

But yeah, I enjoy myself and the things I like as much as I can, as much as I still have time. So I can be ready to settle. I don’t want to miss things, I don’t want to regret wasted time. So whatever I like to do, I simply do. Not a big deal. I give myself a break from all this shitty boundaries of what and when you can do things. And if I’ll never settle you’ll see me in Vegas 2 times a year. Joking. 3 times. Haha, no, of course I’ll settle. Because I want to have what I never had. A proper family. Dear relatives, before you cast me away, please note I said “proper” family. Ah shit, now you’ll do it for what I just said.

All my life I wanted it, but, as I said before life’s a bitch, and here I am at 31, becoming almost immune to alcohol. Joking, I don’t drink. Haha, not everyday, fortunately. Whenever I had a relationship I thought that’s it. That things will settle, that we can start to build. Probably that’s why none of them worked. Because I started with this thought. And when everything turned to shit I became the opposite. Wolverine. Haha, I wish.

I am not chickening out, I am just skeptic and even though I am really sad to admit it, afraid. I’m afraid man. Of everybody and everything. But I have a stupid bravery and I keep on trying. And man, I swear to God, my hope shines brighter than fireworks on New Year. It’s like I have a gland of hope in my body. I just produce hope and hope and hope and hope. One day I’ll have a hope attack.

Anyway, these are things and thoughts that I sometimes sit on, and even though they seem a bit dark I’m enjoying life as it is. I do, in my own way. But I love myself more, and I’m happy that I still find humanity inside this body.

I developed a lot of mischievous traits in time, it’s true. Life didn’t spare me the metamorphosis of innocent me into being a little douche. Yeah I can be that, too. Unfortunately. Work in progress.

The thing is that I’m well educated and street educated. That’s half good and half bad. Why? Because I’m half boy. Haha gotcha!

Drifting away. I’m tired and it’s late. I have trouble sleeping lately. I thought I passed it, but yet insomnia slowly works its way back.

To close this mental journey through my last couple of months I have to tell you that I let my heart get what she wanted. I went for everything I liked. Only that sometimes I was given half. And now, the beast wants the other half. Hmm, nonsense you’ll say. Not at all, fellow readers, not at all.

My conclusion, now, after a year full of happenings? I’m definitely going to hell as Satan’s wife. Anyway, I like hot weather.

And I have an army of people who love me! All jokes aside! Thank you awesome people for being there. Infinite gratitude.

P.S. I hope you all read this the way I imagined. If not you’ll be confused as heck!

It’s all love and late night writing shenanigans. Peace!

Fail to reboot

You know what’s the worst? When somebody you used to love becomes somebody… regular… again. That’s cruel… when your heart doesn’t skip a beat when you look at them and they don’t warm you up like they used to.

We run out of love, or we force ourselves out of love, and then the object of our adoration has no significance anymore. Is not that we completely take them out of our system, but they don’t have the same effect on us. Like a medicine that doesn’t do the job anymore. Your body just doesn’t respond to it.

It’s hard to have loved somebody and then just look at them plain. Simple. With no excitement, with no desire. And how much you used to feel those before. When their simple presence tormented and twisted the thoughts in your head. When you thought of them so much that you’d start dreaming of them at night.

Now you just sleep peacefully.

All that love gone to waste. You still look at them with that warm feeling, that “yeah, this was my favourite human once” and… that’s it. They made you feel so fuzzy and giggly, and every single thing that they said or did left you in awe. And now all that is mockery.

You go to sleep at night and you don’t feel the need to have them next to you. You don’t want to text them, even though before you were desperate to get in touch. You don’t have them constantly present in your thoughts and prayers… they are just drifting away. Apart.

If once they consumed your whole being, now you are somehow grateful they don’t. It’s like that love was also a burden, and not more than once you felt its pressure.

You still wish them well, you’ll always feel that way and if you don’t it means you never loved them. This is how love works for me. If at any point I gave a part of my life, of my time, of my heart to somebody and it was true, then it will always remain as an echo of warm feelings when it comes to them. And yes you can love more than one person, the difference is when you find the one you’ll love the most. That’s when stars align and fireworks crack all night and lit the sky. And even then things will not be easy. Love, as anything else in life, has ups and downs and it doesn’t make it any less real and amazing.

Starting to lose the chain of thoughts…

But it’s sad when you don’t need somebody anymore, when you don’t feel the need to share with them simple things, and when you don’t really care how they’re doing, or if they’re ok. It’s sad that you don’t want them like you used to. That you don’t replay in your mind all the nice moments that you’ve been through. You don’t think the whole day about the night before…

It’s sad that you don’t want to make them happy anymore and to protect them from anything bad that could happen. It’s sad that everything nice turned into spite. And you spit venom when you say their name. That’s resentment. And that’s still better than moving on. Moving on means game over. Resentment means you still want to play.

The day something they do doesn’t affect you anymore it’s a sad they for them. The day you see them with someone else and tears don’t gargle down your throat it’s the day your calvary is over. If the idea of them with someone else doesn’t make you lose sleep and burn with jealousy, then you’re done. Your herculean labours are over.

And it’s sad. How come a person your heart made an isle for, can become so… ordinary. If once you saw perfection in them now you see all their flaws. And it bothers you. No we are not blind. We saw everything before, it just didn’t bother us. Perfectly imperfect.

It’s sad that you want to find someone new and you let the dust cover their memory. It’s sad that all your projections are not including them. If before you imagined them next to you all along, now you just do math. You become a cold-blooded mathematician, analyzing every possible theory. Because now you’re awake.

With every part of our heart that we give away, we become colder. The more we used to give, the emptier we are left. We regenerate, but with new feelings, with new focus. No place for old feelings. You can’t rekindle something that is consumed. Let the wounds heal and look at the scars from time to time.

And sometimes love is not even consumed. It didn’t even get the chance to fully blossom. You HAD to cut it because it was actually poison ivy. And all those “what if” all those “what could’ve been”… those hurt. You didn’t even get the chance to mature your love. You didn’t have the chance to love enough. You just have to repress it, to pull back all those feeling that will never reach their purpose.

I regret the love I couldn’t give. I regret when I don’t have the chance to show somebody how good I can make them feel, how dedicated I can be to them. I regret that they’ll never know how I can love them… because they just don’t want to.

But then what can we do? We’re not left for dead; we just stand up and move on. Until one day our efforts will be rewarded and not only we’ll get back what we give, but we’ll not ne afraid to give some more.

We try, we fail sometimes but I always say that whatever was done with love can’t be blamed.

*

Can it be resurrected? Read between the lines.

It’s all love and afternoon writing shenanigans (for a change). Peace!

Writer’s unblock

I am one of those people who believe they are good at everything. Haha, I know, I can be an infatuated asshole. As though I’m good at a lot of things, obviously I’m not good at everything. For a long time I struggle to find out what I like the most. What I really want to do in life, and man, that turns out to be a headache.

I believe so much in myself that I can even imagine myself a ballerina, but yeah, that’s really too late. I took a make up course while in Romania and I even have an internationally acredited diploma to certify that. I think I left it England where I used to be a babysitter. Then I went to Greece and worked my way up as a waitress in the VIP restaurant.

I, then came to Dubai and struggled from waitress in a horrendous place to hostess in a fine dining restaurant. From there i transitioned to a real estate company where I was initially a receptionist turned Short Term Rentals in charge and the Marketing Coordinator. Oh, I forgot to tell you that in Romania I was working in construction companies.

My background is Economics, but there is no relation between us whatsoever. I am literally sickened by my years in university and even though I barely missed a day of highschool, I skipped half of university time. I was also working during university, so yeah, I started to enjoy work more than economics. But some of the things I learned there stayed with me and, let’s say, gave me some knowledge about certain situations. If I look back is not really Economics that I hated but other courses. Techology of Communication, that I gloriuosly failed three times, is one of them, and it actually convinced me that I don’t need a diploma. And I’m diplomless let’s say.

Oh, and I worked for a local newspaper for about six months. That was probably something I enjoyed the most in my life.

Over the years, even though I’m more unstable than Elizabeth Taylor when it comes choosing a path, I realized that there is something that never left my side. Writing. I used to write when I was young(er) and then, even though I took long breaks, I continued. I am writing quite a lot these days, as you can see.

Few years ago I enrolled in British College of Journalism and got my accreditation. I am a Freelance Journalist with diploma and Press Pass. Now, this is something I should work on. Yeah, it looks that I talk to myself.

I don’t know if I’m that talented, but one of my dreams is to publish something. But then again, I don’t know where to start, as I am split between monologues, simple absurdities and sometimes free verses. Ah, you must also know that I hate free verses, but as I am a person who most of the times does the exact opposite of what they preach, here I am madly in love with free verses. Why I love perfect rhyme? Because I have OCD. I think free verse is a way of fighting it.

Most of the times I’m shy to post what I write. Yeah it might sound shocking but it’s true. In time, though, I became bolder and even though I forgot a lot of it, I decided to start a blong in English, for a bigger audience. I started to write quite a lot these days because, as everything else, writing needs practice too. And I also want to observe the response.

What I noticed is that my saddest posts are the most successful. Noticeably more likes and more views than any other topics I approach. I don’t know if people are more susceptible to this kind of posts or they just appreciate the fact that you pour your heart out. Don’t know, I’m experimenting.

Posts about love are also top of the list. When it comes to love, it’s tricky. Most of the times I embellish it, I twist it.

Abyway, I have a new little something to work on and it makes happy at the moment. As I said befor, one of my burning wishes is to be published.

And I’ll find somebody to proofcheck my posts.

It’s all love and after work writing shenanigans. Peace!

Family portrait

Sometimes, me and my brother, we’ll go up on a hill, next to the forest alongside the road towards the city. From there, we’ll just look around us, everything quiet, everything green in summer, everything yellow in autumn. We’ll ocassionally play “next passing will be my future car”. Or second, third, from the left or right, etc. We’ll talk about what we had in, then, our raw minds.

He’ll make me laugh most of the time. I’ll laugh to tears. We always enjoyed a good laugh. We were naughty kids. I remember we were saying that God laughs at our jokes because He made us funny. He’s up there having a good laugh when He looks down to us.

We’ll look forward to see eachother ehenever we can, because we never lived together except later on, while at university. You have to know that there’s no man in this whole world that I love more than my brother. He’s the coolest, funniest and brightest brother anyone could wish fore. He turned out to be a loving husband and an extremely involved father. He’s the perfect combination.

If I think about it, all men in our clan are very dedicated to the family life. They’re all settled, responsible and above all great husbands. Women on the other side are a bit… the opposite. Women in our line had a share of turbulences, as I can see going down the line from my grandmother to me. Hopefully will not continue. We are a bit unsettled… a bit tormented… a bit missunderstood…

I used to talk to my grandmother and she used to share with me bits of her life and from her I learned to admit things, to open up, to share my sorrow. When I was upset she was hugging me and crying for me, with me, for her… ar all together. She was the best grandmother anyone could wish for. Uncommonly kind. Beautiful and caring. Worrying and feeling for everybody. An oasis of love when times get rough.

I lost a few good years fighting with my mom on the other side. I lost innocence in words and actions and it took me a long time to understand her. To truly understand her essence, my feelings towards her and to be wise enough to put myself in her shoes. I make myself believe that I managed to make it up to her in time, but I didn’t… I need to do more for her. I needed to do more for my grandmother. I thought I had time…

You’ll never know the time you have left next to someone.

I remember that new year. I celebrated it with my grandfather. My grandmother was hospitalized, almost unconscious. My grandfather went to sleep early. I took a glass of wine and I went out in the freezing cold. Sky full of stars. Full.

Firecrackers blasting around. I couldn’t cry. I can’t acknowledge terminal situations. There’s an unreal optimism that keeps fueling my hopes that everything will be fine in the end.

I kept on looking at the stars. It’s the first new year in my 18 years of existence when my grandmother was not with us. And I said to God “You don’t exist if You take her away!”

And He did. Seven days later she was gone. She was the first mother I knew, she was there when nobody else was, she felt the life inside me, the mind inside my head. She was a futuristic soul caught in the past. The level of understanding she had was simply amazing. She was a combinations of stars and flowers, she was my confidant and my strenght and she told me to “go see the world, get away from here”. And I did, grandma. I did. You should see the things I’ve seen, the people I’ve met. I remember you so well. There are things you’ll not be proud of, but I know you’ll understand me.

The day she died I was not at the hospital. My uncle called and told us to rush to the hospital. I reached there after an hour or two. I found her room and I opened the door. She opened her eyes. She saw me, she took a deep breath and there she was… gone. Then one more breat, deeper, when the soul leaves the body. And there I was, no reaction. My stupid mind couldn’t process what just happened. I went out and made a phone call.

I found her later on at the morgue where I had to dress her lifeless body. We took her home where I had to see her being embalmed, watched and then burried. And I still couldn’t cry. I cried later when I realized she’s never coming back and loneliness gets deeper. I lost my rock and I drifted away. I don’t even feel like home at home. I don’t belong there anymore.

I guess sad topics make the best writing. It’s too personal. I lay these words down here so I can remove them from my head.

It’s all love and late night reminiscences. Peace!

Be careful what you wish for

I wish not all the things that come through my mind will come true. Or I should not wish for certain things. Whenever I want something, sooner or later I’ll get it. There are exceptions of course, but then you can’t always have it all. In a way I can’t really explain what I mean but I’ll try.

It happened many times that an idea got stuck in the back of my head and then one day, out of nowhere it came true. I don’t know why it’s not happening with finding a bag of money or fame but yeah, I’ll take it as it is.

Even though I strongly believe that I have no will and I’m very deceiving when it comes to goals somehow something inside me works towards some things and my whole being doesn’t stop until the target is achieved. The worst part is that it works for bad things too. That’s a mess. Because I wish for things that are not really… right, nor decent, nor with any benefit to my life. But then again you have to live up to your mistakes.

I wish I could be more explicit but it’s not that easy. The most important thing is that it works 90% out of 100%. In the rare occasions when I don’t get what I want I become so spoiled and I just don’t understand that I can’t always get what I want, and that, maybe, I already got enough.

The other bad thing is that, in my head, I start to be manipulative, knowing that most of the times I get what I want. But to be honest sometimes I push it and even if I know that it’s something bad I still want it to happen, and it does just to teach me a lesson. What I thought will be a victory is bitter AF.

My vanity grows bigger too. It’s this feeling of power, of control that makes you blind to the side effects but then AGAIN, my puffy brain doesn’t really acknowledge failure so it keeps on making new weird achievements. I need a professor Xavier to help me concentrat my energy towards other things.

Anyway, I’m half sarcastic and the real point is that sometimes we really don’t know what we wish for and what to do with the things we have. We are so lost or missguided at certain moments in our lives and we don’t really learn anything. But then again, lessons never stop. And everything is there for a reason, obvious or not.

I just wish I could channel my powers towards less selfish and superficial things. I wish I wouldn’t have that wolfish grin spread on my face whenever things go my way. I think I’m looking for the word humble, because my brain gets so infatuated with the deceiving and ephemeral climax of power and skips the reality check.

Somehow I planted in my brain the seed that I’m sort of untouchable and that luck is the best thing I have and even though it seems to be true, I should set some limits until things get… different. There no such thing as continuous blessings without any downhill.

Anyway I wish I could explain this better but I’ll just leave it here. It’s all good as long as things are under control. That’s the key. To know your limits.

Weird post, ha?

It’s all love and late night writing shenanigans. Peace!

You heard what from who?

Don’t chicken out on anything. If you want to do it, because you want to do it, then do it. God I wish I could explain people that this is my only religion. Freedom of speech, of self, of soul.

I hate it so much when I find myself analyzing what I’m doing just because it doesn’t follow the norm. The hell with your norms, with your life rules and regulations. You live by them, if you think they’re so great! Don’t shove it down people’s throaths. Live by them and let others live by theirs.

Your freedom ends when you interfere with other people’s freedom. Simple as that. But how many nauseating judgemental looks you see nowdays? This is the most disgusting thing to me. Snakes looking. Venom spitting. And you continue doing what you do best, being your own damn glorious self and then they start hissing.

God, it’s Dante’s Inferno. And even family, friends or close people, you know, they’ll start some wierd behaviour when they feel you are too… yourself, or you are doing something they never had the courage to do. It’s like they want to bring you back to an invisible (or too obvious) sheep herd.

I have a very simple solution. Why don’t you guys worry about what’s in your backyards and let me worry about what’s in mine. I don’t know how exactly the saying goes, but i’ll adapt. I can do whatever I like.

And I hear close friends saying “oh you don’t know what people say about you” and my only thought is “Why do they feel comfortable to say it around you” or “why don’t you shut them up if you love me so much” or “why don’t you all go to hell if you want me to put it this way”. Anyway, just a few examples of what’s going through my mind. Why you splash me with words of glorious friendship if you let other people swipe the floor with me.

And then there are those people: “oh, she likes that guy” / “oh she’s loyal to the wrong people” / “oh she’s clubbing too much” / “oh she spends too much” / “oh the dress too short” / “oh she has too much fun” / “oh oh oh”. First of all stop ventilating, fans. Second, why don’t you mind your petty lives. Just for one second stop looking at other people’s lives and focus on your boring ones. I’m living the way I want to, I love who and the way I want to and I am loyal to the people I want to. None of your goddamn business.

Am I writing this because it bothers me? Not because it bothers me, it disgusts me, it’s like when you drink too much and it’s better to vomit. I vomit here whatever you blabbed and turned my stomach upside down.

I hate living with the thought that I am not following I don’t know what human code I’m not aware of. Just avoid me when it comes to life guidelines. I have my own. As long as I am happy I’ll not change them. And stop being accountants or supervisors in people’s lives. We are all different, with different needs and expectations. And mines are just mine.

Anyway, I’ll stop before I become petty. I leave this to others.

I am writing this because it happened recently to have some second thoughts on some things, and it made me realize that some of this bullshit actually reached to me and it made my heart and my mind wonder. It made me feel that I have to consider if what I do will cause gossip or not. And that is sad because it didn’t bother me that much before.

But again, my choices are my choices and even though I like my stuff private, some people made it a very open subject and now there’s an elephant in the room. Motherefffffer!

Anyway now that I feel better, thank you all looking for some excitement here, for being so curious about my whereabouts and roundabouts and mind your own damn business, please. But by any means, pass by, and bring some traffic to my page.

I don’t bother with these hoes, don’t let these hoes bother me!

P.S. articolul asta vizeaza strictnisteoamenicucarelucrez, dar ei nu stiu asta si sper sa nu se apuce sa traduca.

It’s always love and late night writing shenanigans!

Read the footnotes

“The things she’s seen. The places she’s been. The people she’s met. She’s filthy rich. There’s nothing material you can give that will satisfy her more than moments. Give her joy and give her your time and she’ll never want anything else. She’s what you see, she’s just like that. Existing without any tricks. Ah there’s one trick. She has too much to give.

She likes long rides and black coffee. She likes unplanned things and late nights. She likes to talk and dance. She is warm and brave. She’s a brave girl and she learns fast. She learns from everything and everybody. She loves her time alone but she never refuses good company. If she makes mistakes she’s sorry. If she goes too far she’ll drag you with her.

She has a vicious side, it’s true but she turns it into something natural. She’ll tell you to go for it if you want it. That’s her answer to everything.

What does she want? Haha, many things but she settles for whatever you like.

She can piss you of with her presence sometimes, or with exuberant good mood. But her heart is in the right place. She can be a pain in the ass but you’ll get used to it.

She likes to lay and do nothing for a long time and sometimes she finds no peace in anything. She’s moody but everything turns into a good vibe most of the times. Some people try to make her strong and even though she is grateful to those people, she’s not afraid of her soft side. She’ll show you, even if you don’t ask for it. Stubborn as fuck sometimes and she’ll go under your skin to get things done. Sneaky sometimes, but always with good humor.

She’s loyal to people and if you’ve ever been good to her she’ll never turn against you. Even if you hurt her. She’ll defend what she cares about. She’ll always find good in everything. She looks up to some people. Especially people who showed her a different dimension of things. Mentors, stronger personalities or just different characters. She’ll always be fond of these people.

She’s silly sometimes and makes stupid mistakes and even though she’s ashamed to admit them, give her some time. She’ll come back and she’ll joke about them because she doesn’t want to take mistakes seriously.

Always give her time to come to her senses. She can understand everything. She has an excuse for everybody, not only for herself. She walks straight and laughs loud, she exaggerates and she burns but this is who she is. And if you don’t want to change don’t try to change her either.

She’s an asset when she’s motivated and she hates routine. She want to get involved and to have a word to say, but she’ll obey if required. She can be disciplined. She needs to be disciplined sometimes (ambiguous).

She is the life of the party and in the middle of things. It might be tiring sometimes. But sometimes she’s lazy as fuck. She can easily fall into a comfort zone. You need to be somebody very special to get her out of her bed after a long day when all she wants is to rest.

She gets excited easily but she’ll forget about it fast if it’s not something that she really wants. She can put a lot of effort for the greater good but she needs recognition. She has after all an ego and a fetish for herself. Just like everybody else. (Yes she can twist it up just like that).

Everything depends on either she wants it or not. You’ll see the difference in the results. You’ll know when she’s motivated and when she did it because she had to. If she did you wrong she’ll fix it, she’ll try at least. Give her the chance, she never meant it in the first place.

She’ll forgive everything and you’ll hear the weirdest excuses for people who don’t even deserve a glass of water. But she’ll not defend somebody who’s mean on purpose, or at least without a reason.

She’ll fill people’s heads with romance and bullshit and she’s this silly believer that the world is not on the verge of destruction. At least, not while she’s alive.

She came a long way and she has a long way to go. You’re not the only one who thinks there’s a greater purpose for their existence. When she wishes and when she hopes for others she does it with all her heart. If only she could do this for herself.

She’ll give you a fair battle because she knows there are no shortcuts or cheats. Even though patience is not her strongest asset. But at least you can shake hands with her at the end. It was a good game, no doubt about it. It will be remembered. She will be remembered.

Give her the benefit of doubt as she gives it to others. She deserves it.

She will never really give up, so don’t push her to do it. Some people know she’ll never be herself again around them if they pull the wrong string. Not that she’ll not forgive. She will. But it will never be the same again because she can’t pretend.

Give her herself and that’s all you need. Ah! and food.”

It’s all love and late night writing shenanigans. Peace!