Wait for it

I just look at myself sometimes and I want to slap my face and scream from the bottom of my lungs “WHAT DO YOU WAAAAANT”.

Nothing makes you happy. Nothing. When it’s like this, you want it like that. When it’s like that you want it like this. You get what you want and then you don’t want it anymore. You have issues! Big ones!!! How can you ever be happy like this?

And stop thinking. Stop f#cking thinking because it will be the end of you. Why can’t you be normal? Why can’t you stop seeking fantasies and be goddamn normal?

And then I’m like “Nah! Just do your thing gurl! Be a freaking unicorn if you have to!”

End of the story. Good night!

It’s all love and experimental shenanigans. Peace!

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Ze guts

I didn’t write in a while. I got busy. I got lazy. I didn’t feel much lately… so kind of a dried well in here. Kind of a dry season for feelings. Heart in the chest waiting for thrill.

I was thinking… I think I’m pretty weird. I mean I feel that people feel the same. And I’m pretty socially awkward.

Sometimes I say the stupidest things man. I don’t even know where they come from. Many a times I just force myself to say nothing. I don’t remember being like this. I was… different. We all were, I guess. One way or another. And I remember I had more balls when I was younger. Is it true you get softer with age? But I was able to say things as they were and I was easily falling for that “I bet you can’t do it” that life throws your way. I just increased the font to 16 because I can’t see properly anymore. I have back aches and I care about what people say.

Where are my balls man?

Is it because everybody is so damn easily offended by EVERYTHING these days? It’s like you’re on a ticking bomb. You lose people after a conversation man, because maybe you said something that didn’t tickle their ears in the right way.

I used to say everything that’s on my mind, of course in the limit of common sense, I don’t need to be rude to speak my mind, and it was so liberating.

I presented myself as I am, always. And then people happened, man. New countries with new cultures, of course, demand some caution, but that is fine, that is again common sense. It’s another thing to be offended by as much as a breath. We are too sensitive these days. We are big babies waiting to complain about almost every damn thing. There is no feeling of contentment anymore.

And then there’s the contrast. You’re used to be open, then you have to close yourself bit by bit and then the only instinct left, is to close some more.

I don’t even know how to start a conversation anymore. Or at least this is how I feel. I used to be so friendly and talkative and now I just want to go meet Friday on a deserted Island. My type of companion.
It’s hard when you have a temper too. I know is good to tame it and I did, but it’s still part of my personality. Sometimes you can just read it on my face. Apologize for that.

But still, it doesn’t feel like myself anymore. I’m becoming a damn turtle and I have less and less desire to push my head through the shell.

Is it the age? Is that what it is? Can’t be just that. It’s this disease that affects “millenials”

I mean look at your damn ancestors, fighting bare handed on bloody fields of war. Aren’t you ashamed that you get offended by not getting likes on Facebook. I mean see the difference man. This is what we’ve become. We don’t know how to take criticism anymore and it’s so necessary sometimes.

I guess we are just bored and we need to come up with various reasons to spice up our lives. But this is not the way. Being a cry baby on social media, spending the majority of your day there, and then feeling that your life is not as shiny as others picture it to be, is pure bullshit man. They say “oh social media ruined us”. Fuck no! We ruin ourselves. If we don’t let it, it will not affect us. But we love to be brainwashed, to be sheeps in the herd. We pay thousands of dollars for a company that brings little to none updates to their products. Anyway we just love to be controlled. George Orwell pictured it just fine. Look at us blaming social media for our miserable lives. But who is behind these social media channels. People. Only smarter.

Nowadays everybody wants to be a damn blogger. I would gladly be one too. These are our aspirations these days. Fuck the traditions, basically. It’s a vicious circle. And we do love to spin.

Everybody wants to be a star, to live a glamorous life and look at our examples, man. Sex tape protagonists turned role-models. Gold-diggers and fake idols.

All what women do is be more naked. Boobs out, ass out, they don’t even balance it anymore. All out!

You ain’t even bad bitches to be honest. Only a few can carry all this “new” fashion. Only few women can add personality and style to less clothes. Rest of you just basic hoes.

That’s the thing. You have to add your own. Copy-cats don’t have a long life.

You can be classy with a deep cleavage if you know how to do it. You can be sexy without being vulgar but that’s such a thin line.

Man, I’m not archaic I just look around me and I don’t like it. I’m not saying we have to go back to being our ancestors, but to be less shallow. We are shallow as fuck.

We want everything served on a damn silver plate or whatever the saying. You should know by now I’m not good at sayings.

And you know what bothers me the most? When men are whining. There’s nothing more annoying. They developed so many issues in time. Maybe because they were force to always lead and be responsible, but damn it, it’s too much. Go get a manicure dear and a Brazilian while you’re at it and let me fix the door knob. Damn it! Grow up, will ya!

Infinite ego as well. Nowadays there’s no chase, You have to chase their gluteus maximus around like they’re the shit. Where’s courting and proper dating or at least the feeling that you’ve tried. Nowadays they just jump to the next one like you never even existed. Boom! Now you see him, now you don’t ! Did I get this right?

I’m on a rant as usual. That’s what I do on my tiny cyber-universe. I grow virtual balls. Because I can’t freaking open my mouth anymore without feeling a look or two, accusing me of some thing or another.

Anyway man, this is who we are at the moment. Am I wrong? You won’t be able to tell me because you think I’ll get offended.

It’s all love and draft browsing shenanigans (that I wrote maybe two weeks back). Peace!

The urge of finding out

God sometimes I’m so awkward. I just say the most weird things when it’s really not the case. God! And the problem is I really don’t mean them. I don’t meant to make them sound as they do. They just come out of my mouth. Is anybody else having the same problem?

Really, it’s frustrating. I’m not a person who loves double meaning and stuff. I like things straight. And they always come out twisted. Christ! I’m the master of disaster!

I really don’t mean it, and here I am being all awkward. With the wrong people. I want to give myself an award for being such a weirdo. I’m just a real calamity.

I should shut up. I don’t even know why I start some conversations. I should just be quiet. But it’s just that part of me that wants to see where I stand. I guess I get my answers sometimes. It’s not always what I want or when I want. I should get used to this. I can’t always get what I want.

Most of the times I do. That’s where the confusion is. I always get what I want and it becomes a habit. No Gaby, things are not always the way you picture them. And sometimes you’re just bored. This is what kills me. Boredom. But it’s natural. It happens to everyone. Is not always thrilling and adventurous as we picture it to be. Sometimes we just have to be happy with what we have.

But I always want what I can’t have. Speak about the drama. I am such a spoiled brat. I am used to have all these exciting things happening and I forget that sometimes are not even right. Or moral… Call it as you want. I just love the unusual. I just love the fear and the adventure. It has to give me that adrenaline dose that I love so much. It has to be forbidden. That’s why I’m not settled, because I love the unknown too much. Or the most familiar. It will take a good shrink to decipher all this.

And it’s fun you know. But it’s such a contradiction because I never know where I stand. Do I want to know where I stand. I’m bored. I want some fun. It’s been a while since I felt the thrill of it. I’m such a stubborn person. So easily offended when I don’t get what I want. What do I want though?

I’m not easy to please because I don’t want to. I have layers and layers that I shed at all times. And I love it like this. You’ll never know what pleases me now and what pleases me after a moment. But there’s one thing I know. I want it only my way. And my way is not boring at all. You should just let me have it. Give me that space that makes me comfortable. And then magic will happen. If you shut me down I’ll never react. I just need to feel secure. And then there’s magic.

And to be clear my intentions are never bad. You can rest assured that I don’t want, I never wanted and I will never want to cause harm. I’m just perverted and my aims are not to destroy. I aim to please. It’s all carnal. It’s all about the sense. All the senses. But I know there have to be limits because what I can unleash is not easy to handle.

And people are always afraid. Especially when they act like they don’t.

And in the same time I love stability. Now you tell me how everything I just said before can match this statement. Where’s the middle way here?

I have no clue. It’s like I want to have that Bonnie and Clyde kind of thing but… legal. Too much Freud inside my head. How can I ever find peace? Because in 31 years I never found it. I’m a vampire searching for the elixir that gives the power of walking in daylight. I’m searching for a myth.

But I guess I’ll make do with the first part until I find the latter. I’m just fine with trying. I just wish I wasn’t misunderstood. Damn I wish I could be clearer and things will just fall into place. But then that’s the beauty of it… not getting what you want… when you want.

This being told, I guess I’m just going to be my awkward self until that day comes and somebody will see it as a treasure. Because I am one.

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

Waiting for my memoir

EXPERIMENT! I just recorded this post and you can listen it here (so sorry for my voice):

 

If it’s not your thing, read it below.

Ok, I’m there. I’m bored to death. I’m going out of my mind, inside of my mind. I’m suffocating inside myself. I don’t know what could possibly keep me satisfied. I don’t know what will please me more. When I have something, I want something else, when I have what I think I want, I don’t want it anymore. And what I want the most, I always lose. Maybe I shouldn’t want it in the first place. But why? Anyway, to sum it up I’m a happy person but I’m terribly bored and this boredom makes me unhappy, but not unhappy in the sad way. Does it make any sense?!

Happiness is not, in my opinion, the lack of sadness. It’s that state of mind that everything is fine, it’s going to be fine and there are great things coming your way and you manage to keep your head up. Happiness doesn’t really take much. It can be anything. Sadness requires a specific reason. At least this is how I see it. Happiness lays in the simplest and most insignificant things sometimes. This doesn’t mean we don’t have other needs that require more complexity. And some needs should require a different level of satisfaction. And then, there’s your problem. It’s all about your unique requirements, about what can match the level of your expectation and imagination. If that makes any sense… again.

Back to being bored. I am afraid when I feel like this because changes are coming. And who the hell isn’t afraid of change. And I know it’s the cure for boredom but I’m not always ready for change. Even though whenever happened, I raised up to it in no time. I’m always ready. Then I behave as it was always my natural habitat. The power of adapting to anything it’s unbelievable sometimes. But I don’t like changes and even when I feel bored I stop myself from seeking entertainment. I tamed myself a lot in time.

What I’m saying is that I like stability. I love safety and everything straightforward. But I have moments when chaos is my only nature. I just unleash all that has been tamed and I just let the beast out.

See, I wasn’t made for routine. I wasn’t made to be leashed and caged. I should be dancing, I should be flying, I should be an entertainer, I should be a totally different thing from what I’ve always been.

I’ve always survived from a day to another. I always left my dreams aside to reach that safety level I was talking about earlier. I said to myself that the things I love the most are not serious enough for the future. Because my wings have always been closed. I’ve never opened them as much as I should, so I never flew. I was just half there. When I was young my thoughts were too old. My worries were those of an adult. I always struggled with my thoughts. Way too early.

I wish somebody had taken these thoughts away from me at that time. Just somebody to say “you’re just a kid, these thoughts don’t belong to you, these problems are not yours to solve and most of all, you’re not too blame”. I don’t want return to childhood traumas but, man, how they ruin you when you grow up.

Not the real situation, but the impact it had on your mind and what kind of reactions it triggered in your mind. Because you grow up wrecked, fearful, with no self-esteem. And then you spend a long time re-building or building from scratch a new persona, without all the damages, but what we don’t know, is that they are our foundation.

It can work though. You can keep it going. I know some people will say “who? you? no way” but I can tell you “yeah, me”. I seem a cocky motherf#cker but it’s a long way to explain what I am. I am happy I managed to leave that impression though. Not that I’ve been a mole before but inside my head I was always way lower than others. I’m happy with any progress though.

And I fought, I kept on going. Even when I said I can’t, I just kept on going. And I said so many times I can’t. I said so many times I don’t want to. I guess I never really meant it. I guess I’m waiting to see myself succeeding like my own fan. I just want to be happy for myself one day.

Don’t get me wrong, I had my moments, my precious moments and I know very well who I am and what I did. It will be stupid of me to say I don’t. I shined and I conquered a lot of situations. I had my glory. And I had tons of luck. Tons.

I just realised that my priorities have changed and I think of myself more than ever. It’s like I want to preserve the last sparkle of that childish enthusiasm. I want to preserve that drive that makes me dream and hope that not everything is ruined and it’s never too late to try to have what I always wanted.

God help me, I say. Because who knows what I’ll start. And by the way, is there anybody willing to write my memoir? Seriously, you’ll be entertained. Everybody will. I just hope I’ll be able to tell my story without thinking how others will judge me. I wish I’ll be able to talk about the darkest moments without shame. After all it has to be authentic.

As usual it’s all love and evening writing shenanigans. Peace!

The journey of fear

I found my old Romanian blog. From years ago… 10 or more who knows, I lost the notion of time or I never had it. But, man, I had balls. I could rant about everything like a motherf#cker and not give a damn. I was poring my heart out til the last drop. It was liberating. And I was never thinking about who reads my blog, or if I did, apparently didn’t give a rat’s ass. Now I care and that’s so bad for my writing.

I guess it’s happening. We become scardy cats (to avoid using the p word) when we grow up.

Did you see kids? They have no fear. Oh water! I’ll go. Oh Fire! I’ll go. Oh snake! I’ll touch. Oh electricity! Bring it on. They just go for anything because fear is a notion that’s not yet known or implanted into their system. They don’t know it so they just go on, head first into everything.

Then, teenagers. They know fear but they are rebels. And being a rebel counts more than being afraid. So they do things out of rebellion and then, if nothing wrong happens they feel invincible. And it teaches them that if they dare they might as well succeed. There is actually no other option in young minds except success because they don’t know yet how to rationalize or be defensive. And it’s not such a bad thing. Lots of them turn fearless leaders.

And then, after these stages, you just become more and more afraid of.. basically.. everything. You think everything is a calamity and there you are stepping on your dreams, your impulses and sometimes your heart and just keep yourself on the safest side.

This is what we’re taught, right? Don’t quit that job that gives you a good income. Don’t break up with that person you’ve been since highschool. Don’t take any kind of risks.

But… what if I’m unhappy with all the above. What if I want something else, something new. And then your brain goes like “Nonsense! Shut your heart and let me be in control. Don’t let emotions control you!”. And you do it, you get stuck there forever, knowing damn right that you can be somewhere else with somebody else in the middle of adventure and yet you just go for the same routine. We tame ourselves to the extreme. Who knows what life will bring if we just make that one move, that one step…

And sometimes we build fear by comparing ourselves to others. This is the fear of not fitting in. We look at others and we decide that we want to be like them in certain situations because we believe they hold some unknown recipe to success, forgetting that we might have our own way of doing things right just by being ourselves. I could never be too ladylike for example, and many times I heard that I act like a man. But hey, I don’t mind it. And if I don’t, who the hell cares. I’m too loud, or I jump too much, or I make faces, or I climb trees. So what? I curse and I say nasty jokes in front of everyone. Sometimes I probably look moe like a man than a woman but it never bothered me that much to change it.

And then people will tell you “Oh but men like women who are.. you know… frail and delicate, and they behave like ladies”. Meh! None of my boyfriends ever complained. So there you go! It depends on what you want to see. And men anyway they have a tendency to say something and do the opposite, so let’s move on.

This is one above of the examples, and it’s a true story. I heard so many people complaining that I’m too rough or too careless about the above mentioned feminine traits. Ah, well, too late now! By the way I’m also very sensitive in the same time. I can cry immediately and effortlessly. I’m many things, not just one. A lot of people lose the bigger picture and focus on some details only. An it’s fine again, because these people are the ones that follow their role-models, or whatever society rules, burying their own selves under masks and layers of deceit.

It just bothers me that we lose that sincerity of feelings and emotions that guides all our actions when we are young. The more we grow the more complex is every decision we make. We have a reason, or more, behind everything, and sometimes it’s not a pleasant one. We are fake. We start with us, we practice on others. We’re not genuine anymore. Genuine. This is what I was looking for.

I hate situations that force me to be somebody else. I know in life we have to make some compromises but I want to think of them as “some”. I don’t want to become somebody else. And I think that my own personality will do just fine in a very wide range of situations. I don’t know if it’s strong, but it didn’t actually left me until now so…

Moving on. I’m not saying to keep being rude if you are a rude person by nature. This will be the misunderstanding, I feel. I just think that if you are smart enough you know how to correct your flaws without erasing your entire hard drive. If you get what I mean. I don’t believe in “It’s me, take it or leave it” but I also don’t believe in “I need to act more like that” (when “that” means copy paste) and I also don’t believe in “People say/think/want you to be…”.

And all of a sudden we are a world of easily offended people and our egos hurt the most, and we have to be politically correct because who knows what sensitive string we might touch. This is also a form of fear, of constraint, of limiting the free speech, own opinions and originality. We are in boxes. We have walls. We see the ceiling and we can’t fly. Because “who knows what might be out there, better stay here where we are safe”.

Why don’t we just have a look ourselves?…

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

Broken mirrors

It’s not the same for everybody. Whatever might trigger something inside you does not necessarily trigger something inside them.

You see, when you pressed your cheek so naturally against mine, because the place was loud and we had to talk close to each other, that meant for me. Maybe for you it was something you do when you’re attracted to somebody but for me it was such an intimate and infinite emotion. Your lips are moving and I feel the motion of your face against my cheek. And when you finish talking you squeeze my arm a bit. Sometimes, when I ask you something you just pull me closer with a steady hand. And my body flows toward you.

At some point my face is looking straight when you talk to me and we’re not cheek to cheek anymore, your face is on my face, so close to my lips, not even talking next to my ear anymore… and I would have it like that forever. You talking against my face. You and your cheek against mine, that hand around my waist. And when we’re not next to each other our eyes meet swiftly and there’s THAT look. That damn look and damn you for understanding it too.

And sometimes it’s like you’re analyzing me. Or undressing me. I guess the latter… I hope the latter. And when our lips first touched it was fire. We couldn’t even keep them together, we couldn’t even lock the kiss but we keep on trying and you just wreck my brain functions. On and on and on. I don’t even know how I’m kissing you but it’s so natural, so effortlessly. I can barely see your face, but I want to see it, so we take brief moments just to look at each other and understand what’s happenning. And it’s happening. I guess my face reads exactly what yours does.

We have to stop. We have to go back. It’s hard to go back and pretend I didn’t kiss the soul out of you. You look, I look. It’s not swift anymore, it’s intentional. And I read on your soft lips “you are in trouble” and a devilish spark plays in your eyes. Oh mister, trouble it is!

I just feel like grabbing your face and bring it close to mine and just stare at you for a moment before I kiss you. Movies in my head. Movies in yours. Pretty sure the same plot. Maybe different scene order.

And I try to find topics so I can bring your face next to mine. And you keep on answering with your face smashed in mine.

“I’ll take good care of you”… and just like that I have no knees, I have no connection to the world outside. Just like that, I am that piece of exaggerated romantic shit that I’ve always been and you got me with silly words like a pigeon trap. There’s nothing I love more than alluring gestures, intuitive hand touching, body language and word innuendos, because my brain is so alert when it comes to these things. It’s awaken by them even though it’s slowly sinking in imbecility.

God, somebody save me. God, have mercy on my soul. My mind has sinned. Still does.

And then you obviously think, because of the great talent we have of ruining things, “does he act like this with everybody”, “it’s like a game he knows too well”, “he doesn’t mean any of it”, etc. And then I’m down. The weight of these words crush me. They just cancel every single thing I said before and now there’s no way back… Can’t ignore them anymore. Stupid thoughts. Stupid, stupid thoughts.

You’re dancing behind me and I’m slowly grinding against your body. It’s intense and it helps me that I can’t see your face…because I can picture it. And I know why you’re moving away. I turn and I see your face. I was right. You’re biting your lip. Unconsciously I’m biting mine.

And then again you’re thinking “what is it different for him now” “how do I make it different”. I have to be the best, because I always do, because it’s always like this. This is what it is. And I am. I don’t always have the chance to…

And there was no chance with you. Who knows when I’ll see you again. There are galaxies between us and this mind of my own that will ruin all of this. That will question to death the authenticity of all these moments. Especially that you’ll not be around to prove me wrong. And then… then, what’s the point?

I wonder what did YOU feel? I wonder if you acknowledge my face moving when we were talking cheek to cheek. I wonder if you felt that fire, the electricity of our fingers barely touching.

Why did you do it then? Is it a routine?

How can I ever be happy like this. How can I stop ruining moments with thoughts. I ask myself.. and the only answer lays in that vanity we have, the one that whispers “he worships you” and makes you feel so powerful. And it stays. The thoughts stay and the vanity stays too. You’ll have that set of questions running on and on in your mind and then vanity will come and say “enough! I felt it, it happened, no need to doubt it!”

And you feel better about it, and about yourself. Yeah, it’s true, it happened. There it is, the light at the end of your f##king tunnel. And for a while you are back on track. It’s so twisted and so hard to describe this feeling, this insecurity that keeps on digging, like a cavity, into your self-esteem, into your mind, into your heart. Fewer thoughts you produce, the happier you are. Are these thoughts a result of your traumas? Let’s not f##king go there because I will never finish this. I have a few people to thank for that for eternity, I believe.

Anyway you’re such a dear memory to me. You will be that kind of memory that makes my heart warm at times. What kind of memory will it be for you?

It’s all love and evening writing shenanigans. Peace!

Writing out loud

I think there are less and less original ideas and it’s very hard to be under the spotlight without anything groundbreaking. You can’t be mediocre. If you want to start something you must have a vision and that brief moment of genius.

The more time you allow to pass without doing it the harder it becomes. Just like everything else in life. You grow older and more complex. Your basic needs turn into intricate ones, you are not satisfied with little things, you are not satisfied with even a tridimensional view of things.

Your own self-perception changes and you aspire to be this great being doing even greater deeds and when you fail it resonates deep inside you. It’s hard to stand out in a world that fabricate ideas on a conveyor belt.

And then there’s this battle inside us that makes so frail. This antithesis of feelings and actions that makes us so eternally unsatisfied and changing. We criticize ourselves so badly that we just wish to give up right after we started. We put these insecurities and weaknesses first and then we just get discouraged.

Or maybe it’s just me. I’m so easily discouraged and I can’t really understand how I could go trough some really hard situations in my life and I jus can’t give myself a high-five for a job well done.

I spend my time searching for that start, for that moment where I am confident enough to start. And then all I get is delay. And time is passing, and time is a wizard. And that thought that you’ll have to go through an existence with accomplishing your purpose is not really friendly.

How do you know your purpose?

I ask myself quite often. What is there for me? And sometimes I let my imagination free. I follow my imagination like a spectator. And you know what I notice? Even my imagination has boundaries. Set by society, by myself, by my sins, by what they say it’s a sin. Am I religious? Not quite. I’m spiritual let’s say. I might have faith. Yet to discover.

I think I was born loud. Good lungs. Usually people who change the world have soft voices. Calm and calculated. Stern yet sunny and soothing. But there’s a lucky start-up on my skies. And that star saved me from so many troubles. That star guided me to me. That’s the star where my grandmother lives now.

Again, back to purpose. I always like these dreamy activities, loose and not too sharp. And in the same time I loved geometry and space and finding hidden diagonals. I always loved to write and I participated in numerous competitions. I just did one mistake, I didn’t let my imagination run free. That’s why now it’s distorted by all these factors.

I said to myself that I’m a realist because this is what life had showed me. That day dreaming is for those who can afford it and if you lose yourself too much in it you might as well lose everything around you. There’s only one good thing about it. When you’re down you have an escape. You have that vivid corner of your mind where everything seems possible and you actually start to believe that it can be a future projection.

But then you have to be original. And you look for inspiration. Obviously you don’t look for it inside you, at first. We are copy cats. We look around first. Small steps and we manage to what we think others are doing better than us. But we’ll always be copy cats and that’s not the scope.

where’s that spark though? Why everything seems so unworthy of seeing daylight? Why nothing is ever good enough?

Ok I’m very rhetorical in this post. But I’m just wondering, what am I actually good for. What’s that secret talent or gift or call it whatever you want. I mean I know a few things I can do but what’s my greatest one. Or maybe is nothing and I’m just meant to be mediocre.

Imagine if one day tables turn and I’ll read these words from the winners perspective and I’ll be a cocky little bastard looking back and saying “you know, I always had this feeling that I’ll make it…” And then, in my cockiness I’ll be content. But then you have to be cocky sometimes, too.

Humbleness just humbles you more. You need to have that dose of audacity that makes you jump when there’s nothing under your feet.

I mean what can be better than doing what you love, what you’re really good at?

Again, as I said it before I’m a person who believes in destiny. Let’s say I’ve been shown that there’s a certain way things happen and sometimes I have no control of it. Let’s just say that when I believed there’s no escape, there was and it made my mind expand. And my mind absorbed this idea of new solutions like a sponge. And if you ask me, everything is possible. Except chasing away that demon that pokes my head with crazy thoughts.

I said to myself, what’s the best way to write a book. Use your own life as a source of inspiration. I mean, there it is, you have the setting, the characters, the situations. Will it be interesting? Well usually people get pretty caught up in the course of events. Will it be a good idea? Hell no! You have to be ready to accept outside criticism wich is probably going to hurt your feelings even more than you thought. Then you’ll be so vulnerable and walk around like an open book. And I don’t mind that but let’s just say i learned from early ages that you can’t really get fully accepted. Another idea gone to waste I guess. I’ll just have to publish it post-mortem.

But then it’s so discouraging when you have to write pure fiction. I feel my mind doesn’t help me anymore. I am writing purely to practice now and I know it will end, I’ll stop for now and who knows when I’ll start again.

I need to persevere. My posts get longer and longer with time. I had an average of 600 words per post when I started writing and now I can easily go 1000 in 10 minutes. The more you try to find your kickstart the more discouraging it gets. I mean look at J K Rowling. How can you ever beat that. Ok, I’m not stopping there but any other writer sounds better than you’ll ever do.

Should I let somebody else read it?

Not yet.

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

Change background

I just looked at my coffee and I realized I like colour black and especially dark colours. Not in something specific, but in general. This blog changed to black.

I realized that when I didn’t get enough sleep my brain is bombarding me with thoughts of various kinds. The statement above is one of them. They just come and go with the speed of light not allowing me to focus. Instead of “focus” I just wrote “fall asleep”. Probably this is what I need right now.

I am also very irascible when I’m tired but on a different not I tend to be more productive when I’m in this state. When I’m well rested I tend to take everything too lightly, too superficial, I feel that I have time for everything, I procrastinate and then I realized that the only thing I did was to waste an entire day.

I read this morning because I couldn’t sleep and even though reading helps me sleep, whenever I closed my eyes, my brain got triggered. It’s like it doesn’t want me to sleep. So many thoughts tangled in my lobes that I just had to open my eyes and get some distraction.

I don’t know if I’m haunting myself or my hidden unconscious emotions start a battle of wits in my head. It’s not an easy to handle situation.

This led me to an idea that was persistent since morning.

See, when people come from a normal background…. Ok now I’ll tell you what a normal background means to me: A family with both parents, decent lifestyle, functional household, education and affection, healthy relation with the family (not exceptional, just normal), living your childhood as a child, your teenagehood as a teenager, not too spoiled but growing in a caring environment, etc. Of course it can be perfect, but I thought about that too. There’ll be fights but not important. They’ll be about some grades in school or your brother/sister who got themselves in trouble, maybe some conjugal misunderstanding that your parents will hide from you anyway. Small tension but nothing unusual. Something that won’t leave a print on your emotions forever. Children are very susceptible to everything.

Even half of the above mentioned will count as a healthy development for a decent human.

Ok so, when people come from a normal background tend to be more peaceful, stable and kind. I saw it in the people I met a long time. I am not saying they are privileged, I am saying they have a strong foundation to they personality, where they have everything sorted after a great example received during early age. They are more confident because they were allowed to develop their traits without major changes or impacts in their life. Their character is stronger because it was not weakened by other circumstances. I don’t know if this is true completely, it’s something I just noticed in people with similar backgrounds. They just seem more normal and they are usually good people who you can count on on a very profound level. Unanimously labeled as such, they will less likely to become the opposite in time.

I was specifically mentioning early ages because the foundation is where everybody starts from, therefore is the most important. This prepares you for your life, later. You will likely be able to solve your problems in a more rational way, with more strength and determination. Even your commitment will look different given the fact that you were given positive examples when young.

Of course you’ll develop anguishes, prejudices, complexes, even depression episodes (it can affect everybody) etc but the way you handle them is different than a person with an abnormal background.

Now my version of an abnormal background: most likely divorced or single parent, troubled household, fights / sometimes violence, traumas, insufficiency (mostly material),  blame and induced guilt, living ahead of your aged, being troubled with other dilemmas than the “normal” ones, felling a high level of responsibility for others.

Note that I did not include education here because even if most of the above cases will lack the education part there are also very well-educated individuals that can fit in this category. Which sometimes can lead to serious cases of depression. The more you know the more you want to know, the more you dig into the depths of your traumas and brain dissections.

So, these individuals are the uneasy ones, the ones with lots of insecurities even though sometimes they act like thugs. This is their way of getting things done. Usually they develop all sorts of psychological traps. They can control their emotions but they’re usually very sensitive because it was imprinted within their emotions since childhood. The guilt is more frequent. Guilt not conscience. It’s easier for them to want to be lonely because they can’t make mistakes. They socially interact but they’re spilt inside. They follow social norms and standards. Most likely they teach themselves how to normally behave than being raised like that. They always want to please, they want to do their best because they were blamed that everything went wrong because of them. They feel that they don’t belong, most of the times and it’s very hard to please them or tame them. It’s double the job to deal with them.

A lot of them become successful but a lot of them became the… villain. Studies showed that penitentiaries are usually full with a high number people from the second category. Leave aside the natural-born killers and psychopaths. This is not an excuse, but on a psychological level it makes a difference. troubled people, unable to socially fit or feeling rejected can become predators.

I’m not saying they can’t surpass this, but it’s a lot of work. Constant, monumental. Your self-control level has to be steel. You need to analyze every step of your thinking and acting process, and sometimes despite your efforts you fail the scope.

Some might say, let people be what they are. But tell me who wants to be troubled and restless. This is not society’s voice integrally, it’s the voice from within that want to better you. This is how you become better, with self-will. You have to keep maximum security surveillance in your headquarters. And you’ll not succeed from the first attempts, you’ll fail so many times, you’ll snap, you will blow your cover and every restart will be more difficult and you’ll want to stop and say “fuck it” but that inner voice tells you that you’re in charge and you’re the only one that can understand and act accordingly. And so, you are one more step closer to your personal success. Maybe right after a big breakdown.

It’s all love and afternoon writing shenanigans. Peace!

P.S. I need spellcheck, i messed this post up. Maybe i’ll nap a little bit. I can’t even read what I wrote now. Oh, good Lord, be praised for giving us THE COFFEE!

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!

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.