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Cum traduci cuvantul “dor?”

Zilele se contopesc cu noptile soarele imi zambeste dar mie imi este constant frig visele nu mai sunt vise mangaierile nu mai sunt mangaieri chipurile oamenilor nu mai sunt chipuri, culorile nu mai sunt culori parfumul florilor nu mai e parfum cerul nu mai e cer iar pamantul nu mai e pamant pentru ca tu Mama…

Posted on 31 May '18 by admin, under Uncategorized. No Comments.

De pe hartia cu cerneala verde

Uneori ceva imi da putere si fiecare rasarit imi spune ca traiesc.

Multumesc pentru fiecare gura de aer, pentru fiecare durere de cap, pentru piersicile coapte care mi-au ciobit dintele , pentru ca ma simt  in stare sa trag prima linie cu creionul si sa vad cerul limita imaginatiei, pentru ca ma simt obosita, pentru ca dorm maxim 4 ore , pentru ca mi-e frica, pentru ca vibrez de la muzica din mine, pentru zambetul pe care il desenez inca instinctual pe caiet atunci cand vreau sa zambesc si daca n -ar suna acum telefonul poate , poate nici n-as resimti atat de puternic efectele zapuselii de afara si as multumi pentru ca am invatat sa multumesc acum mai multi ani.

Posted on 28 May '17 by admin, under Uncategorized. No Comments.

love is …back!

Waited for a good while to hear any news from this guy. Welcome back mr Ashcroft! Looking fwd for some rock star attitude in “These people” .

Posted on 24 February '16 by admin, under Uncategorized. No Comments.

8

il était là dans un après-midi en regardant le ciel à travers le trou d’une feuille d’arbre”.

Asa a inceput. Cand prea mic sa constientizeze cat de pretioase vor deveni acele ore de plictiseala, dupaamiaza, cand toti copiii dormeau linistiti el se refugia in gradina. Se ascundea de bunicii care cautau sa-l ademeneasca la somn. Se ascundea cat de sus posibil printre ramurile copacului cu cel mai des frunzis . Acolo a auzit pentru prima data cum in minte ii rasunau vocile celor intalniti peste zi. Cuvintele lor reveneau si mai revenea o voce mica ce nu parea a lui, dar care parca ii rostea cuvintele fara ca el sa se oboseasca. Asculta linistea printre toate acele glasuri iar vantul, vantul ii mangaia chipul ca o alinare de mama…

Posted on 8 March '15 by admin, under Uncategorized. No Comments.

my kind of Lady…

Posted on 25 March '14 by admin, under Uncategorized, visuals. No Comments.

ai carte n-ai carte, fara parte

Am crescut la bunici pana la 6 ani, in cea mai ciudata perioada comunista di Romania. Anii 80. Deseori, bunicul ma lua cu el la piata iar bunica nu intelegea nicum de ce as lasa eu jucariile si joaca cu copiii, ca sa merg cu bunicul la piata. Bunicul ma tinea de mana pe strada si cand se intalnea cu vreun cunoscut ma strangea usor de degete ca sa nu uit sa dau buna ziua. Inca de pe atunci aveam tendinta de a ma lua cu visarea in timpul mersului…

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Posted on 25 December '13 by admin, under Uncategorized, Urban. 1 Comment.

women are from wonderland and men are from neverland

The Alice in wonderland women among us

they are confusing , utterly needy and distressed in appearance but in fact the spoiled little brats,  they are masters of deceit and have grown ito manipulative ever restless beings… Their apparent weakness and absent minded casual whit hide a strong decided individual with some sort of an infantile predisposition that measures exactly how much of themselves to reveal in order to get the cookie. What is it that fascinates in all this ? (more…)

Posted on 25 October '13 by admin, under Eng., Uncategorized. No Comments.

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Posted on 17 September '13 by admin, under Uncategorized, visuals. No Comments.

A mile and a song away

“Distantele au alti ochi, departarea are alta voce.
Dar mie imi este la fel de dor de tine.”_

_multumesc Doina Postolachi

Posted on 20 April '13 by admin, under Eng., Uncategorized, Urban, idilice, visuals. 1 Comment.

bringing one down to tears by song 3

song 1
It started out with a kiss.
For the fist time in 3 years i had a kiss at midnight and not a shot of champagne. I thought, …magic!

song2
I dreamt colours and shapes for three days in a row. Beautifully colored, never ending, ever changing prints.The dried out flowers on the bed table still gave out a nice scent and i gave in again… to a forth night of dreamful sleep.

song3
I woke up next to a stranger and i needed to get up and flee for the colorful crowded streets once more.

We need to learn about simplicity again. We need to start seeing ourselves as the screaming, scared new borns that we are, bunglers of life, chaotically running bundles of energy randomly sparse inside a delicate bubble of soap, unaware of the miracle  we could be  if we would simply… stop.

Posted on 15 January '13 by admin, under Uncategorized. No Comments.