long time ago..

Haruki Murakami :

“De ce mai străluceşte soarele
De ce mai cântă păsărelele
Probabil că n-au aflat
Că lumea s-a sfârşit deja…”

beyond a reasonable doubt..

Tăcerea.. Aurul nevăzut pe care puţini îl mai pot sesiza.. Cuvintele nu pot descrie integral amalgamul de sentimente ce te încearcă.. Aparatele de fotografiat nu pot surprinde trăirile nevăzute în toată splendoarea lor.. Tăcerea exprimă tot când o asculţi atent..

Noapea.. Nici soarele, nici ziua, nici raţiunea nu pot ţine piept acestei cortine.. Clipa în care te poţi desprinde de pământ aproape integral.. păstrând o singură punte de legătură : durerosul gând că va veni şi dimineaţa.. clipa în care doar luna-ţi poate surprinde fiecare fior şi înţelege.. în felul ei..

Greutate.. E greu lanţul de fier invizibil care-ţi sugrumă până şi aerul.. dar pentru o secundă din multitudinea de secunde din care este compusă o viaţă de om am simţit că s-a eliberat.. secunda în care am închis ochii, am simţit că nu simt nimic şi o singură imagine persista în orice gând pe care deja nu-l mai aveam.. era autocarul care m-ar fi călcat..

Dorinţă.. Să nu găseşti un peştişor de aur care ţi-ar putea împlini 3 dorinţe.. ar fi prea complicat.. e suficient una singură.. să fiu şters în amnezia lumii pentru a mă putea lăsa fără urmă..

18.57

18.57

18.57.. it was an usual spring day when it all happened. my heart was beating on higher frequency than usual, my hands for shaking for an unknown reason, my mind refused to think of anything else, but.. 18.57..

18.57.. windy, rainy, sunny day.. dust all over the place.. may be it was meant to be dusty.. so I could fall into it..

18.57.. hurrying up.. had to do the last thing i wanted to do at that time.. be somewhere where i do not belong.. home..

18.57.. some old lady is staring at us exactly like a kid who watches his first cartoon movie.

18.57.. i’m begging time to stop.. just for a while.. for this certain ‘while’ when nobody is actually there except us..

18.58.. my cleverest enemy just won the battle.. may be the final one before winning the actual war.. that painful bastard actually has no feelings..

today.. what’s so special about this number ? i guess nothing, it’s just a number of illusions.. illusions that grow into hopes.. and hopes.. well they lead to disappointments.. 1857.. 1857 hours of loneliness starting from today.. this time i’m going to ship off my lovely enemy and be alone for another ‘while’.. 1857.. 77 days and 9 hours.. clocks are ticking..

Cheers Darlin’

delicate..

whenever i get to close my eyes for a second, just playing hide’n’seek with reality or trying to stop my mind’s thinking process, i get the worst punishment possible. i get to see her face.. it’s like a virus from one of those american cheap sci-fi movies when a virus affects a whole network, desktops are covered by one picture and you can’t do anything about it.

whenever i try to fall asleep after a long day, instead of resting or trying to make any conclusions or just plan the activities for the next day, i fail.. the same virus affects my system..

mornings unfortunately aren’t forgiving either..

and.. the reason why..

..it’s ’cause it’s delicate

it’s just that each time our lips nearly touch.. time hesitates.. and it’s not that we’re scared.. it’s just that it’s delicate..

welcome..

welcome to my blog

i am not going to say who am i, just post every single thought that crosses my mind and that won’t leave me empty after posting it..

have phun