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...