And here it is!

Oh, finally... one of the few days I always expect with so much enthusiasm every year.
And it came this year as well, for the 18th time, as a proof that Christmas will live for ever and ever and ever. I can still feel its magical spirit, although I was 7 or 8 when I discovered Santa`s...non-existence. What a HUGE disappointment.

Am fost ieri IARASI la Polus. God damn it! Somebody stop me before I fail. Oricum suma s-a subtiat substantial, nu mai dispun de prea mult buget. Anyway, daca nu acum atunci cand? Daca nu cadouri, atunci ce? Ieri, desi stiam ca nu mai stau prea bine cu banii, mi-a trecut prin minte sa mai cumpar niste cadouri, just for the sake of Christmas. Pentru ca...m-a strabatut un impuls atat de puternic de a darui incat numai gandul ca raman cu ZERO buget m-a tinut in frau sa nu mai cumpar nimic.

Copilul singur la parinti, uneori rasfatat peste poate de catre bunici, care a calatorit mult, care s-a maturizat repede si care a fost dintotdeauna cam egoist. That was me.
Ceva ma face mai nou sa vreau sa daruiesc. Nu e spiritul sarbatorilor. Ceva s-a intamplat la mecanismele mele ascunse in abisala mea constiinta. Acolo, in adancuri. SIMT ca e placut sa fii bun. Tin minte ca nu o data mi-am pus in minte sa ma schimb. Sa devin altfel. Poate chiar alt om. Revolutionary me :) Sa fac lucrurile asa si asa. Nu mi-a iesit. Pentru ca ma straduiam prea tare, pentru ca incercam prea din greu, nu era deloc natural. Ultima jumatate a anului m-a prins insa...schimbata.
Am primit, nu neg. Am primit caldura, umanitate, ajutor, protectie, respect, iubire. M-am simtit ca intr-o reclama la cafea, coplesita de parfumul dragostei si de starea de bine. Am avut background-ul perfect pentru a simti si eu, la randul meu, nevoia de a da. Mici gesturi. The ones that have the power to change you and make you feel good. Am ramas aceeasi. Doar ca vreau sa simt apropiere. Nu am nevoie sa devin mama dolores pt toti soldatii raniti pe campul vietii, sa ascult toate plansetele oamenilor care ma inconjoara. Vreau sa am putini prieteni, dar adevarati. Vreau sa am o familie unita, nu numeroasa, ci una in care sa simt ca fiecare membru isi are locul si rolul stabilit atat de bine incat fara el s-ar destrama toata constructia. Sa am alaturi numai pe cei ce merita. Vreau sa petrec mai mult timp cu mine. Mi-am dat seama ca uneori chiar am puterea de a spune lucruri interesante. Sa fac lucrurile care ma imbogatesc, sa nu mai mai irosesc. Sa dau nu neaparat in aceeasi masura in care primesc. Sa dau fara sa ma gandesc ce si cat si daca primesc ceva inapoi.

Intreaba un om de ce se teme cel mai mult. Multi vor spune 'singuratate'. Singuratatea e atat de frumoasa. E ca un templu sacru in care te retragi oricand vrei si in care exista o oglinda. Oglinda in care te contempli pe tine, te regasesti, asa cum esti, fara sa fi alterat de interactiunea cu ceilalti, fara sa maschezi niciun defect, fara nicio podoaba inutila. Singuratatea e oglinda sinelui. Dar, grija sa nu devii prea narcisist.
Singuratatea e blestemul frumos ce te face sa il apreciezi inzecit mai mult pe cel de langa tine. Iti dubleaza placerea de a-l avea langa tine, atunci cand finally, he comes.

Ieri a fost ziua Prieteniei. Nu stiu daca a fost doar un cadou cu ocazia sarbatorilor, dar am reimprospatat relatii frumoase - odata, pe duca - acum. Am fost, cum spuneam, la cumparaturi. Am descoperit acelasi om frumos intr-un prieten pe care-l vreau prieten toata viata :) Rar dai de oameni despre care sa spui : 'I want him my friend for the rest of my life'. E ca o casatorie informala, e un legamant chiar mai puternic decat un mariaj. E Prietenia. Imi venea sa ii spun niste lucruri pe care nu bag mana-n foc ca le-ar fi inteles. Poate nu acum. There always comes THE time to say it. I felt like it wasn`t the right time yesterday. I don`t wanna be an intruder who gets into one`s life and tangles everything in there. Sunt unii prieteni carora le doresti atat de mult bine incat ti-e frica de faptul ca, daca le-o spui, se poate interpreta gresit.
Apoi, seara, am simtit o adanca datorie fata de Prietenie sa dau un telefon. Sa spun cateva vorbe. Sa aud acea voce, atat de bine cunoscuta mie. N-am mai simtit-o iritata, ca si ultimele dati cand vorbiseram. Era...paseista. Evoca in tonul ei amintirile frumoase ale prieteniei noastre. Dupa ruptura, m-am indoit, zau ca a fost prietenie. Nu accept ca adevaratele si puternicele relatii sa se incheie atat de ingrozitor. Gesturi de fronda, chiar jigniri urate, priviri dispretuitoare, scenarii de telenovela ieftina. Oh, how I hate all these.

Atunci cand se termina o prietenie, o relatie, orice legatura la care tii mult...iti dai seama cat esti de uman. Cand esti cu cineva, te retragi in universul vostru, cel in care totul e posibil, in care simti ca va sunteti auto-suficienti unul altuia. Si cand, bang!, everything`s lost, you feel like you came back to Earth. Back from Heaven. Desigur, mai incerci sa te agati de universul respectiv, pt ca iti era prea bine acolo. Dar nu iti este bine acolo singur. Universul ala se destrama in clipa cand amandoi il parasiti. El exista exclusiv pt un cuplu. Mi-e teama ca post-urile mele sunt interpretate ca prea siropoase. Dar eu nu vorbesc acum de iubire, nici de cupluri, nici de scenarii de-alea overrated, din filme sau de prin cartile Sandrei Brown. E vorba de fiecare relatie in parte.
De exemplu, acum cativa ani aveam in fiecare seara obiceiul de a o pupa pe mama pe obraz si de a-i spune noapte buna. Acum ii spun doar noapte buna si la revedere, ma duc in camera mea. Am incercat un experiment. A adormit intr-o seara mama in timp ce au mai mesteream ceva la calc. Se facuse tarziu, ea adormise cu ochelarii pe nas. Auzeam chiar un vag sforait. Am zis 'eh, acum e momentul.' Am pupat-o pe obraz, i-am spus in soapta noapte buna. Dar nu mai simtisem acelasi lucru. Era atat de sec totul, incat mi-am tras rapid buzele, in speranta ca nu avea sa se trezeasca mama si nu avea sa ma vada in ipostaza aceea penibila. Gestul era facut doar de o jumatate. Mama dormea, desigur ca nu avea tentaculele deschise ca sa primeasca caldura gestului meu.
Oh, doamne, iarasi scriu tampenii. Promit sa incerc sa scriu altfel. Mai la obiect. Mai fara atata vrajeala si labareala.
Revin la prietenie. I always claimed that I was a tough girl. Am inchis telefonul dupa convorbirea scurta despre care vorbeam. Si primesc un mesaj. Nu as fi vrut sa fiu atat de sensibila la el. Desigur, rationam lucid, nu aveam cum sa uit uratenia gesturilor pe care le facuse nu cu mult timp inainte. Evident, si eu gresesc. Am gresit. Insa nu am denigrat in halul asta notiunea de prietenie. Poate tin prea mult la sacralitatea ei. Poate sunt o idealista tarzie a mileniului 3. Poate ultima. Anyway...

Refuz sa mai analizez lucrurile. I`ll just let them happen. Am un prieten - unul din putinii adevarati - care imi spune mereu lucrurile exact asa cum sunt. Scrisesem intr-un post ca imi place sa am ochii larg deschisi in fata realitatii si ca nu mi-e frica de realitate, asa cum e ea. Dar uneori, asa e natura umana, ne auto-protejam de lucrurile care ne-ar putea rani ego-ul. Si refuzam sa le vedem chiar asa cum sunt. Dar Sam, amicul asta al meu, mi-a spus odata ca "you should stop over analyzing things, you miss the best part of your beautiful life". He was so damn right... Am acest viciu al analizei (prea) critice si radicale. Ei bine, de data asa n-am sa o fac. Sunt lucruri a caror soarta e supusa ratiunii, si lucruri pe care nu merita sa le punem sub lupa ratiunii pt ca isi pierd tot farmecul, intocmai ca fluturii...daca ii lasi sa zboare, te bucuri de frumusetea lor. Daca te haladesti la ei si incerci sa ti-i insusesti, crezand ca frumusetea lor ar putea sa contribuie la completarea frumusetii tale, prin simplul fapt ca ii prinzi, le distrugi toata pelicula aceea de praf magic de pe aripi.

Am spus oare ce brad frumos am? Se prea poate sa fi omis. You have to see it. It`s gorgeous. An de an, datoria mea e sa ma ocup de brad si de decoratiunile de sarbatori. Nici prin gand nu-mi trece sa ma auto-deleg bucatar sau ajutor in bucatarie, sunt un real dezastru. Asa ca ma ocup si eu de ceea ce imi place si imi iese cat de cat bine. E rosu cu auriu. When I look at it I`m breathless. :)

Acum o astept pe Silvi si pe bunica. Sarbatoarea de Craciun e un stereotip care imi place. Niciodata nu permit sa se transforme intr-un kitsch. Mi se pare prea frumos. Tot amalgamul asta de mirosuri, sentimente, prietenie, magie, beculete, rosu, auriu, voie buna...asta e spiritul Craciunului.

Ieri zicea cineva "Christmas reveals memories and tears, friendships. Christmas is not for drinkin` only. Is for drinkin` and laughin` with our best friends. Wanna drink some wine?" Well...I felt like this was the true meaning of friendship, although I thought it lost for a while.

Ceea ce ma seaca e ca ne aducem aminte doar o data pe an de adevarata valoare a unor lucruri. Si totusi, intr-un secol atat de agitat si de umplut de materialism, ma bucura sa aud ca acest lucru se intampla, fie el chiar si rar.

Thanks, Santa, for every little thing you bring to me. For the joy you flood me up with, for the wonderful presents, for the colour of magic which surrounds me. :)

Merry Christmas everyone!

Domestic

M-am trezit azi dimineata agresata de un sunet insuportabil al soneriei (mi-am pus usa metalica de vreo 2 saptamani si, implicit, am o alta sonerie- usa e de-aia smechera cu all inclusive : sonerie incorporata, led la clanta, lux, ce mai:)) ). Era mama. Si acuma ma dor ochii de la prea putinul dormit.
Aseara, dupa vizionarea unui film misto (Notes on a scandal - e cu Cate Blanchett, nu care cumva sa zica vreunul o vorba rea la adresa filmului sau a ei, ca fac spume la gura. Nicio vorba rea despre Cate Blanchett si Bruce Willis, two of my (three) heroes), mi s-a nazarit mie sa socializez putin. De preferat ar fi fost sa termin o carte pe care am inceput-o alaltaieri, dar tentatia de a iesi din casa era prea mare. Ale, rings a bell? :)) Nevermind, zis si facut. Mi-am pus ceva blugi alandala pe mine, un pulover gros, fularul in gat, sosetele de ski, boots-ii si o caciula-n cap. Mi-am sunat niste amici al caror ritual sambata seara este sa se uite-n grup la filme si sa...cum altfel, bea de sa stinga. M-am indreptat spre dansii. Am ajuns, m-am descaltat, fara prea mare chef, mi-am facut un ceai, si m-am uitat pe geam vreo 15 min. Cerul parea un lac inghetat prin a carui gheatza vedeam stelele ca pe niste ochi de cadavru feeric, sclipind a frig si alb laptos. Am mai baut un ceai, doua, trei. Cu amaretto. Nu se stie de ce, dar m-a pus dreaqu` sa join my acquaintances` conversation. Filosofi peste marginile admise cu totii(no offense, ppl, da` sunteti chiar dusi cu pluta!), fara bani si plangandu-si de mila unul altuia, cu viitorul in punga, fara idealuri si fara nicio motivatie de a face ceva concret. O viata destrabalata si nesanatoasa, cu accente pregnante de distructivitate si chiar o mentalitate mercantila ce ma seaca. O vad atat de des peste tot, mi se pare ca materialismul si pozitivismul stapanesc 80% din populatia globului, si chiar nu am nevoie sa vad asta si la oamenii ce ma inconjoara. Vorbeau despre idealul lor de sex opus. Apoi s-a trecut la "ce e moral intr-o relatie si ce nu e moral intr-o relatie". I-am pus, intai de toate, sa imi defineasca o relatie. Cica "relatia e aia cand simti ca esti una cu el, cand e langa tine, fara sa-l chemi, fix atunci cand trebuie, cand iti termina frazele, cand impartasiti aceleasi chestii". <> 'Adica daca impartasim aceeasi periuta de dinti si acelasi pat, daca ne-o tragem ca chiorii noapte de noapte si daca am eu impresia ca 'he`s the one' sau el are impresia ca 'she`s the one'...gata, hop-tzop, avem o relatie? NOI avem o relatie? Nu intai de toate, o relatie implica un NOI bine inchegat?" De fapt nu voiam sa demonstrez nimic, o fi adevarata si definitia Monei, nu neg. Dar cum poti sa te aventurezi intr-un subiect din asta si sa ai si impresia (foarte falsa!) ca le stii pe toate?
Whureva`, nu prea conteaza oamenii la care am fost aseara. Sunt ok, doar ca I don`t need them, really.

Am fost ieri la bunici. A delightful experience, every single time I go there. Imi amintesc de copilaria mea frumoasa. De cartierul acela pe care il cunosc ca pe propria-mi odaie, pt ca l-am strabatut de atatea ori cand ma jucam cu tovarasii hotii si vardistii sau v-ati ascunselea. De mirosul de cacao cu lapte pe care mi-l prepara bunica in fiecare dimineata, de toate nazbatiile pe care le-am facut, de toti copacii pe care i-am escaladat si de tot amalgamul ala de fericire, energie si puritate. M-am dus sa ii mai vad. Am impresia ca ii vizitez mult prea rar. Obisnuiam sa merg week end de week end mai demult. Chiar dormeam la ei peste noapte, ma uitam cu bunicul la meciuri sau talk show-uri politice si ne certam ca chiorii, imi duceam cainele la plimbare prin padure pana seara tarziu, stateam cu bunica prin bucatarie si ma prefaceam ca o ajut, de fapt ea facea toata treaba (am cea mai energica si mai cool bunica din lume). Seara dormeam cu cainele in pat, iar dimineata ma trezeam cand simteam ca e gata cacaoa si cand Ada ma lingea in nestire peste fata. Ieri am mai povestit despre scoala, sarbatori, despre politica, despre Elodia, sport, ziare, familie si rudenii, bunicul m-a certat (de fiecare data o face) ca " iar iti sta parul ala ca o matura!" si m-a intrebat cati centimetri am in inaltime, ca sigur am crescut. Avea dreptate. Eu nu am observat, dar am crescut 4 cm lately:-? Au si vizitele rare beneficiul lor. Cu cat te vede mai rar o persoana, cu atat mai sensibila e la schimbarile prin care treci. Bunicul mereu observa detaliile de genul asta. Ada e cam bolnava. A si imbatranit, deja nu mai e cainele jucaus de altadata. Dar a ramas la fel de inteligenta si de simpatica. Pe la 7 seara m-am desprins de casa lor calduroasa, cu greu. Ceva m-a atras spre centru. Desigur, I`m still a girl. Shopping again. Gosh, when will it stop? Alaltaieri am mers la Polus, cu gandul de a cumpara cadouri celor dragi. Bineinteles ca am cumparat toate tampeniile. De la carti, la bluze pe care ma indoiesc ca am sa le port vreodata, cam toate maruntisurile. Ieri - again. Cosmetice. Curea. Rochie (!!! I still can`t believe it. Me...and a dress...:-? Pretty strange combination). Money flies away like a newly released bird from its cage. Am venit acasa cu troleul, desi ar fi fost frumos sa vin pe jos. Poate chiar sa trec prin parc. Last year, the park was a kind of temple for me. The temple where I learned enjoying the present moment. And that`s why I thank the Magician. Feathers, snow flakes, my ice-cold heart, as well as my hand, and his warmy friendship. E frumos sa ai prieteni de la care ai ce invata clipa de clipa. It`s not about love here, it`s about knowledge knited with a pure friendship. Nu stiu, zau, cati sunt capabili de prietenie. E ceva prea sacru, prietenia.:) Acum il inteleg pe Proust cu madleine a lui :)) Flashbacks, flashback. Analepse si prolepse. Revin la troleu. Un copil s-a suit la Fabrica de Bere cu o muzicuta foarte stresanta si a inceput sa sune din ea, EXACT langa mine. Simteam ca imi crapa craniul. Nici nu mai auzeam muzica din casti, numai zdranganeaua aia suna in draci. Luckily s-a dat jos la prima statie. Cand a coborat, am vazut ca nu avea sosete. Nici caciula, nici manusi, nici fular. :| Eu inghetam, cu tot cu blana mea cea groasa, cu manusile de piele bine izolate, fularul si cele 3 bluze de pe mine... I felt like life was a whore.
M-am uitat dupa baiat. Mi-a zambit. N-am reactionat in niciun fel. Apoi s-a strambat si mi-a scos malitios limba. Nici nu ma mir, si eu as fi facut la fel. Mi-as fi scos limba si poate as fi confectionat rapid un bulgare cu care sa fi aruncat dupa mine, dar copilul s-a pierdut in intuneric. Ajunsa acasa, am plonjat sub dush si ... nu mai stiu ce s-a intamplat dupa. Totul era asa de bine. Cald, frumos, curat, mirosea a scortisoara si mar copt in casa. Nu aveam stare. Simteam ca trebuia sa ies din casa. Am facut-o cam tarziu, dar mai bine mai tarziu decat niciodata. M-am dus la filosofii mei ratati, m-am simtit ca o ratata si eu. But not for long. E ciudat cum tu, singur, iei decizii in cunostinta de cauza(stiam ca nu se intampla absolut nimic nou acolo, stiam ca ma plictisesc, stiam prea bine ca nu era locul meu acolo) si tot tu le renegi apoi. Pentru ca te trezesti. Stii ca n-ai ce cauta acolo. Stii ca nu e momentul sa fii acolo. Am venit acasa si mi-am downloadat Mahjongg si nu m-am lasat pana n-am terminat un joc HARD :))) Ah, what a wonderful feeling. Era 2 noaptea si eu inca o ardeam pe net.
Azi dimineata, dupa ce a venit mama si m-a trezit in halul ala ingrozitor de brutal, aveam o stare execrabila. Niste draci cum numai un om care a dormit prea putin si care e trezit fix in mijlocul visului de un sunet tampit poate avea. Am inceput sa vorbim despre vietile noastre. Just as usual, mi-a spus ca risc mult. I know that. But I feel like it`s worth it. It`s good to have moms around :)


PS- Tocmai o descopar pe Feist. Prima data am auzit-o in Carturesti. Eram cu Robert si a fost foarte mirat ca nu auzisem de tipa. Eu am fost socata ca ii place genul asta de muzica. Flashback. A mountain road, we listening in draci Placebo si stricand bunatate de masina noua:)) Daca ar fi fost Feist in loc de Placebo, nu cred ca am fi zgariat in halul ala masina. Our today`s must-listen: FEIST :) Enjoy, hon`...

Psyche and Cupid - The End of the Story

As she leaned the lamp over to have a better view of his face, a drop of burning oil fell on the shoulder of the god. Startled, he opened his eyes and fixed them upon her. Then, without saying a word, he spread his white wings and flew out of the window. Psyche, in vain endeavoring to follow him, fell from the window to the ground.

Cupid, beholding her as she lay in the dust, stopped his flight for an instant and said, "Oh foolish Psyche, is it thus you repay my love? After I disobeyed my mother's commands and made you my wife, will you think me a monster and cut off my head? But go; return to your sisters, whose advice you seem to think preferable to mine. I inflict no other punishment on you than to leave you for ever. Love cannot dwell with suspicion." So saying, he fled away, leaving poor Psyche prostrate on the ground, filling the place with mournful lamentations.

When she had recovered some degree of composure she looked around her, but the palace and gardens had vanished, and she found herself in the open field not far from the city where her sisters dwelt. She repaired thither and told them the whole story of her misfortunes, at which, pretending to grieve, those spiteful creatures inwardly rejoiced.

"For now," said they, "he will perhaps choose one of us." With this idea, without saying a word of her intentions, each of them rose early the next morning and ascended the mountain, and having reached the top, called upon Zephyr to receive her and bear her to his lord; then leaping up, and not being sustained by Zephyr, fell down the precipice and was dashed to pieces.

Psyche meanwhile wandered day and night, without food or repose, in search of her husband. Casting her eyes on a lofty mountain having on its brow a magnificent temple, she sighed and said to herself, "Perhaps my love, my lord, inhabits there," and directed her steps thither.

She had no sooner entered than she saw heaps of corn, some in loose ears and some in sheaves, with mingled ears of barley. Scattered about, lay sickles and rakes, and all the instruments of harvest, without order, as if thrown carelessly out of the weary reapers' hands in the sultry hours of the day.

This unseemly confusion the pious Psyche put an end to, by separating and sorting everything to its proper place and kind, believing that she ought to neglect none of the gods, but endeavor by her piety to engage them all in her behalf. The holy Ceres, whose temple it was, finding her so religiously employed, thus spoke to her, "Oh Psyche, truly worthy of our pity, though I cannot shield you from the frowns of Venus, yet I can teach you how best to allay her displeasure. Go, then, and voluntarily surrender yourself to your lady and sovereign, and try by modesty and submission to win her forgiveness, and perhaps her favor will restore you the husband you have lost."

Psyche obeyed the commands of Ceres and took her way to the temple of Venus, endeavoring to fortify her mind and ruminating on what she should say and how best propitiate the angry goddess, feeling that the issue was doubtful and perhaps fatal.

Venus received her with angry countenance. "Most undutiful and faithless of servants," said she, "do you at last remember that you really have a mistress? Or have you rather come to see your sick husband, yet laid up of the wound given him by his loving wife? You are so ill favored and disagreeable that the only way you can merit your lover must be by dint of industry and diligence. I will make trial of your housewifery." Then she ordered Psyche to be led to the storehouse of her temple, where was laid up a great quantity of wheat, barley, millet, vetches, beans, and lentils prepared for food for her pigeons, and said, "Take and separate all these grains, putting all of the same kind in a parcel by themselves, and see that you get it done before evening." Then Venus departed and left her to her task.

But Psyche, in a perfect consternation at the enormous work, sat stupid and silent, without moving a finger to the inextricable heap.

While she sat despairing, Cupid stirred up the little ant, a native of the fields, to take compassion on her. The leader of the anthill, followed by whole hosts of his six-legged subjects, approached the heap, and with the utmost diligence taking grain by grain, they separated the pile, sorting each kind to its parcel; and when it was all done, they vanished out of sight in a moment.

Venus at the approach of twilight returned from the banquet of the gods, breathing odors and crowned with roses. Seeing the task done, she exclaimed, "This is no work of yours, wicked one, but his, whom to your own and his misfortune you have enticed." So saying, she threw her a piece of black bread for her supper and went away.

Next morning Venus ordered Psyche to be called and said to her, "Behold yonder grove which stretches along the margin of the water. There you will find sheep feeding without a shepherd, with golden-shining fleeces on their backs. Go, fetch me a sample of that precious wool gathered from every one of their fleeces."

Psyche obediently went to the riverside, prepared to do her best to execute the command. But the river god inspired the reeds with harmonious murmurs, which seemed to say, "Oh maiden, severely tried, tempt not the dangerous flood, nor venture among the formidable rams on the other side, for as long as they are under the influence of the rising sun, they burn with a cruel rage to destroy mortals with their sharp horns or rude teeth. But when the noontide sun has driven the cattle to the shade, and the serene spirit of the flood has lulled them to rest, you may then cross in safety, and you will find the woolly gold sticking to the bushes and the trunks of the trees."

Thus the compassionate river god gave Psyche instructions how to accomplish her task, and by observing his directions she soon returned to Venus with her arms full of the golden fleece; but she received not the approbation of her implacable mistress, who said, "I know very well it is by none of your own doings that you have succeeded in this task, and I am not satisfied yet that you have any capacity to make yourself useful. But I have another task for you. Here, take this box and go your way to the infernal shades, and give this box to Proserpine and say, 'My mistress Venus desires you to send her a little of your beauty, for in tending her sick son she has lost some of her own.' Be not too long on your errand, for I must paint myself with it to appear at the circle of the gods and goddesses this evening."

Psyche was now satisfied that her destruction was at hand, being obliged to go with her own feet directly down to Erebus. Wherefore, to make no delay of what was not to be avoided, she goes to the top of a high tower to precipitate herself headlong, thus to descend the shortest way to the shades below. But a voice from the tower said to her, "Why, poor unlucky girl, do you design to put an end to your days in so dreadful a manner? And what cowardice makes you sink under this last danger who have been so miraculously supported in all your former?" Then the voice told her how by a certain cave she might reach the realms of Pluto, and how to avoid all the dangers of the road, to pass by Cerberus, the three-headed dog, and prevail on Charon, the ferryman, to take her across the black river and bring her back again. But the voice added, "When Proserpine has given you the box filled with her beauty, of all things this is chiefly to be observed by you, that you never once open or look into the box nor allow your curiosity to pry into the treasure of the beauty of the goddesses."

Psyche, encouraged by this advice, obeyed it in all things, and taking heed to her ways traveled safely to the kingdom of Pluto. She was admitted to the palace of Proserpine, and without accepting the delicate seat or delicious banquet that was offered her, but contented with coarse bread for her food, she delivered her message from Venus. Presently the box was returned to her, shut and filled with the precious commodity. Then she returned the way she came, and glad was she to come out once more into the light of day.

But having got so far successfully through her dangerous task a longing desire seized her to examine the contents of the box. "What," said she, "shall I, the carrier of this divine beauty, not take the least bit to put on my cheeks to appear to more advantage in the eyes of my beloved husband!" So she carefully opened the box, but found nothing there of any beauty at all, but an infernal and truly Stygian sleep, which being thus set free from its prison, took possession of her, and she fell down in the midst of the road, a sleepy corpse without sense or motion.

But Cupid, being now recovered from his wound, and not able longer to bear the absence of his beloved Psyche, slipping through the smallest crack of the window of his chamber which happened to be left open, flew to the spot where Psyche lay, and gathering up the sleep from her body closed it again in the box, and waked Psyche with a light touch of one of his arrows. "Again," said he, "have you almost perished by the same curiosity. But now perform exactly the task imposed on you by my mother, and I will take care of the rest."

Then Cupid, as swift as lightning penetrating the heights of heaven, presented himself before Jupiter with his supplication. Jupiter lent a favoring ear, and pleaded the cause of the lovers so earnestly with Venus that he won her consent. On this he sent Mercury to bring Psyche up to the heavenly assembly, and when she arrived, handing her a cup of ambrosia, he said, "Drink this, Psyche, and be immortal; nor shall Cupid ever break away from the knot in which he is tied, but these nuptials shall be perpetual."

Thus Psyche became at last united to Cupid, and in due time they had a daughter born to them whose name was Pleasure.

The Second Part of the Story

When she awoke refreshed with sleep, she looked round and beheld near a pleasant grove of tall and stately trees. She entered it, and in the midst discovered a fountain, sending forth clear and crystal waters, and fast by, a magnificent palace whose august front impressed the spectator that it was not the work of mortal hands, but the happy retreat of some god. Drawn by admiration and wonder, she approached the building and ventured to enter.

Every object she met filled her with pleasure and amazement. Golden pillars supported the vaulted roof, and the walls were enriched with carvings and paintings representing beasts of the chase and rural scenes, adapted to delight the eye of the beholder. Proceeding onward, she perceived that besides the apartments of state there were others filled with all manner of treasures, and beautiful and precious productions of nature and art.

While her eyes were thus occupied, a voice addressed her, though she saw no one, uttering these words, "Sovereign lady, all that you see is yours. We whose voices you hear are your servants and shall obey all your commands with our utmost care and diligence. Retire, therefore, to your chamber and repose on your bed of down, and when you see fit, repair to the bath. Supper awaits you in the adjoining alcove when it pleases you to take your seat there."

Psyche gave ear to the admonitions of her vocal attendants, and after repose and the refreshment of the bath, seated herself in the alcove, where a table immediately presented itself, without any visible aid from waiters or servants, and covered with the greatest delicacies of food and the most nectareous wines. Her ears too were feasted with music from invisible performers; of whom one sang, another played on the lute, and all closed in the wonderful harmony of a full chorus.

She had not yet seen her destined husband. He came only in the hours of darkness and fled before the dawn of morning, but his accents were full of love, and inspired a like passion in her. She often begged him to stay and let her behold him, but he would not consent. On the contrary he charged her to make no attempt to see him, for it was his pleasure, for the best of reasons, to keep concealed.

"Why should you wish to behold me?" he said. "Have you any doubt of my love? Have you any wish ungratified? If you saw me, perhaps you would fear me, perhaps adore me, but all I ask of you is to love me. I would rather you would love me as an equal than adore me as a god."

This reasoning somewhat quieted Psyche for a time, and while the novelty lasted she felt quite happy. But at length the thought of her parents, left in ignorance of her fate, and of her sisters, precluded from sharing with her the delights of her situation, preyed on her mind and made her begin to feel her palace as but a splendid prison. When her husband came one night, she told him her distress, and at last drew from him an unwilling consent that her sisters should be brought to see her.

So, calling Zephyr, she acquainted him with her husband's commands, and he, promptly obedient, soon brought them across the mountain down to their sister's valley. They embraced her and she returned their caresses.

"Come," said Psyche, "enter with me my house and refresh yourselves with whatever your sister has to offer."

Then taking their hands she led them into her golden palace, and committed them to the care of her numerous train of attendant voices, to refresh them in her baths and at her table, and to show them all her treasures. The view of these celestial delights caused envy to enter their bosoms, at seeing their young sister possessed of such state and splendor, so much exceeding their own.

They asked her numberless questions, among others what sort of a person her husband was. Psyche replied that he was a beautiful youth, who generally spent the daytime in hunting upon the mountains.

The sisters, not satisfied with this reply, soon made her confess that she had never seen him. Then they proceeded to fill her bosom with dark suspicions. "Call to mind," they said, "the Pythian oracle that declared you destined to marry a direful and tremendous monster. The inhabitants of this valley say that your husband is a terrible and monstrous serpent, who nourishes you for a while with dainties that he may by and by devour you. Take our advice. Provide yourself with a lamp and a sharp knife; put them in concealment that your husband may not discover them, and when he is sound asleep, slip out of bed, bring forth your lamp, and see for yourself whether what they say is true or not. If it is, hesitate not to cut off the monster's head, and thereby recover your liberty."

Psyche resisted these persuasions as well as she could, but they did not fail to have their effect on her mind, and when her sisters were gone, their words and her own curiosity were too strong for her to resist. So she prepared her lamp and a sharp knife, and hid them out of sight of her husband. When he had fallen into his first sleep, she silently rose and uncovering her lamp beheld not a hideous monster, but the most beautiful and charming of the gods, with his golden ringlets wandering over his snowy neck and crimson cheek, with two dewy wings on his shoulders, whiter than snow, and with shining feathers like the tender blossoms of spring.

To be continued...

The Story of Cupid and Psyche - Part One

This`ll be a pretty long story. That`s why I decided to deliver it to you piece by piece. If you were ever curious about what Psyche`s story was, well...here it is.


A certain king and queen had three daughters. The charms of the two elder were more than common, but the beauty of the youngest was so wonderful that the poverty of language is unable to express its due praise. The fame of her beauty was so great that strangers from neighboring countries came in crowds to enjoy the sight, and looked on her with amazement, paying her that homage which is due only to Venus herself. In fact Venus found her altars deserted, while men turned their devotion to this young virgin. As she passed along, the people sang her praises, and strewed her way with chaplets and flowers.

This homage to the exaltation of a mortal gave great offense to the real Venus. Shaking her ambrosial locks with indignation, she exclaimed, "Am I then to be eclipsed in my honors by a mortal girl? In vain then did that royal shepherd, whose judgment was approved by Jove himself, give me the palm of beauty over my illustrious rivals, Pallas and Juno. But she shall not so quietly usurp my honors. I will give her cause to repent of so unlawful a beauty."

Thereupon she calls her winged son Cupid, mischievous enough in his own nature, and rouses and provokes him yet more by her complaints. She points out Psyche to him and says, "My dear son, punish that contumacious beauty; give your mother a revenge as sweet as her injuries are great; infuse into the bosom of that haughty girl a passion for some low, mean, unworthy being, so that she may reap a mortification as great as her present exultation and triumph."

Cupid prepared to obey the commands of his mother. There are two fountains in Venus's garden, one of sweet waters, the other of bitter. Cupid filled two amber vases, one from each fountain, and suspending them from the top of his quiver, hastened to the chamber of Psyche, whom he found asleep. He shed a few drops from the bitter fountain over her lips, though the sight of her almost moved him to pity; then touched her side with the point of his arrow. At the touch she awoke, and opened eyes upon Cupid (himself invisible), which so startled him that in his confusion he wounded himself with his own arrow. Heedless of his wound, his whole thought now was to repair the mischief he had done, and he poured the balmy drops of joy over all her silken ringlets.

Psyche, henceforth frowned upon by Venus, derived no benefit from all her charms. True, all eyes were cast eagerly upon her, and every mouth spoke her praises; but neither king, royal youth, nor plebeian presented himself to demand her in marriage. Her two elder sisters of moderate charms had now long been married to two royal princes; but Psyche, in her lonely apartment, deplored her solitude, sick of that beauty which, while it procured abundance of flattery, had failed to awaken love.

Her parents, afraid that they had unwittingly incurred the anger of the gods, consulted the oracle of Apollo, and received this answer, "The virgin is destined for the bride of no mortal lover. Her future husband awaits her on the top of the mountain. He is a monster whom neither gods nor men can resist."

This dreadful decree of the oracle filled all the people with dismay, and her parents abandoned themselves to grief. But Psyche said, "Why, my dear parents, do you now lament me? You should rather have grieved when the people showered upon me undeserved honors, and with one voice called me a Venus. I now perceive that I am a victim to that name. I submit. Lead me to that rock to which my unhappy fate has destined me."

Accordingly, all things being prepared, the royal maid took her place in the procession, which more resembled a funeral than a nuptial pomp, and with her parents, amid the lamentations of the people, ascended the mountain, on the summit of which they left her alone, and with sorrowful hearts returned home.

While Psyche stood on the ridge of the mountain, panting with fear and with eyes full of tears, the gentle Zephyr raised her from the earth and bore her with an easy motion into a flowery dale. By degrees her mind became composed, and she laid herself down on the grassy bank to sleep.

To be continued...

Is it madness? Or it`s just ME?

NOTE!!! If you look forward to reading a logical, well-organized blog entry, then please skip my page. Don`t ask for tidiness, for logic, for reason...not today. Thanks for your kind understanding.


Just got home. Another lovely hectic day. No school on today`s menu. Researching my future. Found what I was looking for. Meeting with the interactors.
And now I should be cleaning out my closet, but I`m not in the right mood to do such things.

My winamp loves playing games with me. I just can`t focus on today`s topic. Which is telepathy.

Carevasazica e joi. (asta devinde laitmotiv, incet incet)

If the phone doesn`t ring, then it`s certainly me.
Imi plac sarbatorile.
Imi place joi. Mai ales cand vineri nu te duci la scoala. Am probleme cu absentele. Am nevoi. Am nevoie de o motivare. Am nevoie de o evadare pe partie. Am nevoie de un snowboard. Am nevoie de bani. Mi-e sete. Am nevoie de lamaie, ca iar s-a terminat. Am nevoie de spray nazal, ca s-a terminat si ala. De fapt nevoile sunt mult mai putine. Nevoia e acel lucru vital fara de care nu poti sa traiesti. Nevoie ar fi doar de aer, apa...not much more.
Gosh, not this song again...'love`s an excuse to get hurt. Do you like to hurt? I do, I do. Then hurt me.' Geeee, who invented such sad stories? Life`s much of a magical trip which step-by-step reveals its mysteries to you, not so many sighs and not so much sadness.
I really think I am mad.
Somebody help me.
I feel like I wanna kill somebody. Will you be my victim? This sounds much of a "will you be my valentine?"-question So yeap, we can sometimes say that love`s just an epiphany of suffering. But it`s not my case, since love`s not on my menu today. I should call and tell him: "Hey, today I did NOT think of you. At all." Ok, this was mean, now I should stop. The water`s boiling. And the window`s opened, I guess I should close it. But what if a snow flake gets cold and wants to enter? Hmm....I guess I`m a killer now. Cause we all know that if the tiny cute snow flake enters, it`ll die. But I don`t mind about it. I only wanna see him happy, even if it`s just for one second.

You know what? We`ll talk about telepathy a bit later. I really have to go now. Cause my room`s a whole mess and I can`t take it anymore, I have too much energy.
PS-It just stroke me a terrifying idea: what if one day I`ll be running out of it? Of energy? :-? OMG. :-o:-o:-o

Stop singing, for God`s sake...

Mijloc de saptamana. Eu - cam sfarsita.
M-a trezit bunica azi dimineata, n-am intarziat la teza la mate.
Am stat aseara sa citesc o carte, ca pe vremuri. The Tipping Point - Malcom Gladwell. Misto de tot carticica. Probabilitatea de a nimeri o carte buna de citit fix in seara in care ar trebui sa te stresezi mai tare pt teza la mate este una foarte mica, dat fiind numarul destul de mare al cartilor ce mi-au trecut prin mana so far. Si totusi, asta e una din cartile peste care dai cel mai probabil din intamplare, dar care te fascineaza de-a dreptul. Ma simt ca si cum as fi castigat la loto. Desi fiecare castig isi are pierderea lui, dar sa nu preconizam deocamdata niciun final dezastruos la mate. Ca oricum vine, nu de alta. Cert e ca The Tipping Point categoric a meritat sacrificata o noapte, fie ea si una de dinaintea tezei.
Saptamana viitoare pe vremea asta cel mai probabil am sa o ard pe vreo partie. Abia asteeeeeeeeept!
Azi la mine in clasa se mai purtau discutii legate de celebrul Revelion, "ultimul petrecut alaturi de clasa, merita sa fim impreuna" etcetera(ati observat constructia autohtoniza(n)ta a cuvantului etcetera? :)) it means "si" -frantuzescul ET "vioara" - regionalism maghiarizat pt vioara-adica CETERA) Maaa rog :)) Certuri, discutii, chestii-trestii, afaceri, misculatii, orgolii si suspine. A crappy sappy soap-opera de 2 lei. Important nu e sa fim sanatosi, fratilor? Adevarul e ca eu habar nu am ce fac de Revelion si nici nu-mi pasa. Atata vreme cat ma simt bine, nu-mi pasa unde si ce fac. Cu cine, da :)
We`ll hit the road again, just like we did last summer. I know it will all be magic since heroes will be around. And if not, we`ll just enjoy each other`s presence around a fireplace and a wonderful Christmas tree.
Am rezolvat si cu cadoul. Sunt in grafic. Mai sunt cateva cadouri de cumparat, dar bugetul tinde la 0 for the moment.
Am reinceput cu entuziasm sa lucrez la vechiul meu proiect. Sunt pe la capitolul 13, simt ca incep sa se contureze lucrurile intr-o maniera satisfacatoare.
Azi mi-am imaginat cum ar fi daca m-ar opri cineva pe strada si m-ar intreba "esti fericita?"...cum ar fi ca de raspunsul dat sa depinda toata viata mea de acum incolo? Although it might seem a simple yes-or-no question, cred ca mi-ar fi greu sa raspund. As spune evident da. Pt ca eu chiar sunt fericita. Cu toate oscilatiile mele, si cu tot amalgamul de feelinguri fuzionand in mine, per ansamblu sunt categoric fericita. It`s not because of the many things which should contribute to one`s happiness. But because of little things...just like winter, show fall, those many lights in Unirii square, the wandering smiles I see every single day on the street, the many friends I am surrounded by, the good read I`m enjoying now, the hot tea I`m drinking alone every day watching the icy stars on the magical sky. And so on. :)
Nu ma mai pot concentra acum, aud necontenit in cap tot soiul de sunete magice, majoritatea fragmente din melodii de-astea de holiday(by the way, winampul meu e deja impodobit ca de sarbatoare, e umplut pana la refuz de melodii mishto de Craciun si de Anul Nou...oh, ador perioada asta :d ). Nu-mi dau pace, pur si simplu. It`s like the little voices which I have within me and don`t let me concentrate on anything..E enervant. Parca mai voiam sa scriu ceva, but this lalalala just doesn`t allow me to fully express myself.

Just hear those sleigh bells jingle-ing, ring-ting-tingle-ing too
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you
Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling "You Hoo"
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

Giddy-up giddy-up giddy-up let's go, Let's look at the show
We're riding in a wonderland of snow
Giddy-up giddy-up giddy-up it's grand, Just holding your hand
We're gliding along with a song of a wintery fairy land

Our cheeks are nice and rosy and comfy cozy are we
We've snuggled close together like two birds of a feather would be
Let's take that road before us and sing a chorus or two
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

There's a birthday party at the home of Farmer Gray
It'll be the perfect ending of a perfect day
We'll be singing the songs we love to sing without a single stop
At the fireplace where we'll watch the chestnuts pop
Pop! Pop! Pop!

There's a happy feeling nothing in the world can buy
When they pass around the coffee and the pumpkin pie
It'll nearly be like a picture print by Currier and Ives
These wonderful things are the things we remember all through our liives
These wonderful things are the things we remember all through our lives

Just hear those sleigh bells jingle-ing , ring-ting-tingle-ing too
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you
Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling "You Hoo"
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you
Giddy-up giddy-up giddy-up let's go, Let's look at the show
We're riding in a wonderland of snow-ow
Giddy-up giddy-up giddy-up it's grand, Just holding your hand
We're gliding along with a song of a wintery fairy land

Nice and rosy and comfy cozy are we
We've snuggled close together like two birds of a feather would be
Let's take that road before us and sing a chorus or two
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you
Lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you
Lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with
Lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with


ce tareeeeeee...!

Marti urata frumoasa

Finally home.
Parca demult n-am mai simtit o astfel de nevoie acuta sa fiu ACASA. A-C-A-S-A. Pur si simplu acasa, la caldurica, sa imi beau ritualicul ceai, sa imi verific nenumaratele mail-uri si, ca de obicei, sa nu raspund decat la cele pe care eu le consider importante.
M-am trezit greu. Ceva e in aer lately...ma trezesc ingrozitor de greu, parca as fi un bolovan greu pe care incerci inutil sa-l ridici cu o singura mana. Am nevoie de o melodie extrem de enervanta, de un volum dat la maximul maximului, de mama sa traga de mine cel putin o jumate de ora (fapt pt care ea, saraca, isi pune ceasul sa sune cu o jumatate de ora mai devreme decat de obicei, de colegi sa ma sune dimineata devreme sa verifice daca am binevoit a ma ridica din patu-mi calduros etc etc etc.) Asa ceva nu mi s-a mai intamplat. De obicei eu sunt acel om ciudat care se trezeste dimineata inainte de a suna ceasul, am un ceas biologic foarte alert, caruia nu ii prea place sa dormiteze...ma trezesc instant, fara sa stau pe ganduri, tzushti la dus, spalat pe fata, dinti, frecat ochi, imbracat si plecat. Sounds pretty efficient, huh? Ei bine, asta se intampla in mod uzual. De vreo 3 saptamani simt ca ma lasa puterile. Simt ca vreau sa doooooooooooooooooooooooooorm. Lauda somnului, somnului caruia incep sa ii duc dorul intr-un hal fara de hal. Carevasazica, m-am ridicat greoi din pat, evident, cu vreo 20 de minute mai tarziu decat in mod normal, m-am spalat pe dinti, mi-am pus matematica(in clasa a 12-a nu mi se pare nicio materie importanta, in afara de mate. Probabil simt ca la materia asta am sa imi cad bacul...:-? ). Apoi am varat pe mine blugii-nu perechea care trebuia, i-am luat pe cei putin cam jegosi, dar sper ca n-a observat nimeni acest detaliu insignifiant. Si am zbughit-o. O noua zi. O noua zi, o da! Ce optimist suna. Hell with new days...I need my old days, when I used to be with me myself, not working so much as I do nowadays....I miss me. I miss my old habits. I miss not being always in such a big rush.
Whureva`....nu e timp de tagada acum. Am avut o zi exact ca oricare alta. Mate prima ora, dupa care o prelungita labareala pana pe la ora 3. Venit acasa, terminat ceva raport, lucrat un pic la un nou proiect-cam ambitios, dat fiind nivelul meu de energie si entuziasm lately...- apoi fuga la Interact. Intr-unul din entry-urile viitoare am sa detaliez, poate, ce e si cu Interactul asta. ACum n-am chef. Unde vreau sa ajung e ca ziua a inceput cam nasol, cu gandul la teza la mate de maine(de la ora 8!!! mi-e frica sa nu care cumva sa nu ma trezesc. God damn it, somebody wake me up! cititorilor de bloguri, atata amar de bine faceti, dati-mi si mie un telefon dimineata si treziti-ma, am TEZA!!!). La un moment dat mi-am dat seama ca stressul imi distruge putinii neuroni functionali ramasi, bietii de ei oricum nu se mai divid, la ce bun sa ma tot agit atata? Teza vine, teza trece, toate-s vechi si noua toate...Ce e teza, ca teza trece. De iei 3 sau de iei 4, tu te-ndeamna si socoate....si mai bine pune-te sa-nveti cu mai mult de 12 ore inainte de teza, nu lasa totul pe ultima clipa. Okok, dar fratilor, oare acest indemn nu vine fix cap in cap cu that living your life on the edge principle? Eh nu...:)))

Ce voiam sa zic? Voiam sa zic oare ceva? Da, voiam sa scriu ceva aberant, voiam sa zic de ziua asta care trebuia dedicata stressului dinainte de penultima teza la mate din viata mea. Dar nu. S-au intamplat lucruri frumoase. M-am dus la sedinta si pt prima data in viata mea am simtit ca lucram ca o echipa. Interact asta are potential, trebuie doar sa ne mobilizam. Sefii au fost incantati de prestatia noastra, am colindat frumos, felicitari noua.

Nu mi-e dor de erou. Am tezaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Dupa - desigur, am sa merg sa ii caut ceva cadou. Sariti cu idei, ce merita un baiat frumos, destept, care are de toate, de la prietena lui? Pace, liniste si cel mult iubire, nu? Asa ma gandeam si eu. La capitolul 3 ar trebui sa mai lucrez un pic. Promit ca iarna asta ma perfectionez.
Striga matematica, ma duc, totusi. Nu e stress, e linistea dinaintea furtunii. E constiinta mea impacata ce canta pe ritmuri de RHCP formule din caietul meu de mate. Si e telefonul care suna. Guess who? Ce zgomot minunaaaaaaaaat.... :))

Ha!

Don't close your eyes for the crash, you'll miss the best part.
Asa sunt eu.
Miercuri am primit portia nr 2 de vaccin anti hepatic la scoala. Gratis. Motiv de bucurie, as spune. O impunsatura si esti cu un pas mai departe de o boala nasoala. Good for us, elevii, ca avem gratuitate. Pacat de absenta la educatie fizica, dar trecem peste. In cabinetul medical, dezbracate pana la brau, stateam cinci fete cucuiete, asteptand un ac sa intre in bratele noastre. N-am putut sa nu observ cu cata groaza se asezau colegele mele pe scaunul ala infect de rece...si, mai ales, cu cata durere-n corazon inchideau ochii. Ii inchideau de narcisiste ce sunt, cred. Se iubesc atat de mult pe ele insele incat nu suporta sa isi vada propria piele prihanita de un ac. Mie mi se pare fascinant cum omul 1) are puterea sa indure o durere-fie ea chiar si cauzata de o impunsatura infima de ac, 2) are puterea de a se regenera - pe sine sau pielea lui, nu prea conteaza, I only want to emphasize men`s power of recreating themselves (deci rectific, re-generarea, nu doar simpla regenerare...ca de regenerat se poate regenra si omul, dar si planta sau mobila...dar de re-generat numai omul are puterea sa se re-genereze....now that`s fascinating). Si acum, ca tot am trecut asa de brusc de la vaccin la filosofie...imi aduc aminte ca de mic copil imi placeau imaginile crude. Nu cred ca pot sa ma proclam o baudelairiana convinsa, nu sunt adepta esteticii uratului. Dar naturalismul da, ala e chiar asortat mie. Nu-mi place uratul. Dar imi place sa observ patologicul firii umane, asa cum e el.
Ma uitam la acul ala cum patrunde in mana mea, simteam cum serul se imprastie prin vene, cum muschiul bratului palpita de...dreaqu` stie, c-o fi fost durere, c-o fi fost fascinatie..nu mai stiu. Pielea mea perfortata de acul ala rece chiar mi se parea o imagine frumoasa. Ca un nor alb pe un cer senin de vara, de un albastru mult prea albastru, dureros de privit cu ochi umani, dintr-odata strafulgerat de un avion cu reactie.
Aveam vreo 5 ani cand am primit o injectie urata de tot in fund, aveam o raceala crunta, daca nu ma inseala memoria. Ideea e ca injectia aia mi-a ramas pe veci intiparita in minte, cu atata forta a infipt acul in mine tanti aia frustrata de meseria ei de simpla asistenta medicala la un dispensar policlinic infect pt copiii din Manastur...Evident, m-am pus pe un bocit de-ala isteric. Si dupa vreo jumate de ora de plans in hohote, pe strada, m-a intrebat mama: "de ce dumnezeu ai plans in halul ala? te-a durut asa de tare?" ..." nu, dar am ratat impunsul...n-am vazut acul cand m-a impuns".
Acum, privind retrospectiv, pot sa spun ca ma mandresc cu faptul ca de cele mai multe ori am privit cu sange rece lucruri la care poate altii nu le-ar fi rezistat atat de eroic.
In schimb, mi-am dat seama...cu cat inaintam in viata, parca pierdem din noi, cei de demult. Cand chiar ar fi trebuit sa dau dovada de sange rece, sa joc corect, sa spun ceva franc in fata...n-am facut-o. Ei bine, se zice ca omul intelept greseste doar o data in viata. Ramane de vazut cat de inteleapta sunt eu. Sper ca mi-am invatat lectia. O greseala asumata si corectat e un pas inainte.
Lucruri vin, lucruri ni se intampla, lucruri ne marcheaza, lucruri ne schimba. It`s a fact of life. Sunt o evolutionista in esenta mea si cred ca fiinta umana are datoria de a evolua. Totusi, de multe ori imi dau seama ca, inaintand in viata, pierdem. Pierdem principii, Pierdem valori la care odata tineam. Pierdem prieteni. Pierdem fire de par. Pierdem neuroni. Pierdem amintiri. Ne pierdem pe noi.
Esecul pierderii eu, personal, il masor punand in balanta lucrul pierdut (valoarea sa, beneficiile pe care ti le-a adus si pe care probabil ti le-ar fi adus in continuare daca nu l-ai fi pierdut) cu cel dobandit. Daca balanta inclina spre cel nou, e clar ca aveai nevoie sa pierzi lucrul acela pt ca sa poti evolua, sa mergi mai departe. De multe ori facem alegeri. Acestea se iau - preferabil - dupa o analiza rationala : sa tin ce am acum sau sa-l las pierdut? Sa merg mai departe in Cunoasterea mea, pierzand cunoasterea de pana acum, sondand un univers care nici macar nu-mi garanteaza ceva nou?
Well...I did. Am...renuntat, nu sunt sigura ca am chiar pierdut. Benevol. Si tot benevol...am intrat intr-o noua etapa a vietii mele. Cu ochii larg deschisi, ca si atunci cand am privit acul intrand in mine.

PS-Analiza rationala....Nota bene: rationati cu ce stiti voi mai bine. La unii functioneaza mai bine ratiunea cu sufletul, la altii cea cu encefalul.

Fluturi ce?

Fluturi in stomac.
N-am avut asa ceva niciodata, nu inteleg prea bine ce e cu expresia asta. Lumea sustine ca e "un sentiment ai naibii de frumos", ce iti "gadila tot corpul", iti face sangele sa-ti tropaie mai alert prin vene, sa te simti in 7th Heaven. Head over heels. Nici expresia asta nu o pricep. Oricum, a-propos de expresia "a avea fluturi in stomac", nu se poate vorbi de un sentiment. A avea fluturi in stomac, chiar si la figurativ vorbind, e perceptia unei senzatii, nicidecum a unui sentiment. Sentimentele iti gadila cu totul altceva, in nici un caz peretii stomacali. Whureva`...
Aseara a fost majoratul lui Radu. Desi intotdeauna la alcool reactionez precum mimoza atinsa de niste degete prihanite, nu m-am potolit pana nu am tras o vodka peste cap. Se prea poate sa imi placa vodka din cauza unor radacini rusesti pe care nu demult le-am descoperit in arborele meu genealogic. Sau poate ca sunt mult prea fascinata de cultura rusa. Sau poate e doar snobismul. Moscova e cel mai scump oras european din punct de vedere al investitiilor imobiliare, conform Forbes 2007. Oricum nimic nu e mai relevant decat ca eu, la simtul a 50 ml de Absolut...absolut ma imbat. O fi doar autosugestie, o fi realitate. Oricum, l`imagination ce n`est pas le mensonge. Cert e ca m-am simtit foarte bine. Dimneata: trezit devreme, facut ceva raport la un proiect, dat telefoane, rezolvat treburi de oameni seriosi, apoi ore de mate. Apoi mi s-a facut dor de el. Nu l-am sunat. Mi-e greu sa relev chiar fiecare parte din mine in fata unui, say, alien. Sunt prea multe lucruri ce ne leaga. De-asta tacerea asta crunta. Vama Veche, first of all. 4 years ago. O abordare care cerea palme. De-alea gen "papushe, vii la un suc?", dar cu mult mai mult stil si subtilitate galanta. Apoi o lunga perioada de tatonare, soldata cu o palma ferma peste fata fix in ajun de Craciun, un an mai tarziu. Nimic concret so far. In rest telepatie si comunicare, cum altfel, prin mail-uri si telefoane, ocazional. O pura prietenie. Produsul ei? Dupa un interval de cativa ani in care am trait cateva vieti paralele, iata-ne din nou in locul de origine(Vama Veche) de data asta mai maturi si mai ... impreuna. Am dat cu piciorul intr-un principiu la care cred ca tineam mult la un moment dat. Dar , intre timp, am dat de ... Apropiere. Dumnezeu la puterea dumnezeu. Nebunii cu palarie danseaza. Cred ca daca nu NE iubim, cel putin iubim.
Desigur ca am numarat pana la 10. Dupa atatea integrale trebuia sa-mi revin cumva. Un fulg de nea m-a plesnit peste fata calda. Temperatura corpului meu a scazut sub zero grade. Instant. Nu-mi mai trebuia nimic decat mana lui calda si un ceai fierbinte. Pana sa numar la zece, am uitat de integrale. M-a sunat. Vieti ciudate ce avem noi nu mai are nimeni. Vine saptamana viitoare. Irelevant. He`s here with me every time I need him. The question is: how often do I really really need him? Nu ma mai inteleg...