:))

Ea e femeia...

ea e femeia pe care el si-o doreste doar o noapte si tu toata viata, iar a doua zi el o doreste toata viata si tu doar pt o noapte

ea e femeia care stie sa rada chiar si atunci cand sufletul ii plange

ea e femeia pe care ti-e frica sa o iei in brate ca sa nu o ranesti dar pe care o ranesti pt ca ti-e frica sa iubesti

ea e femeia pe toti o arata cu degetul dar toti o vor

ea e femeia de care ti-e dor dar pe care nu vrei sa o mai vezi

ea e femeia dupa care tu  plangi atunci cand esti cu cealalta

ea e femeia care nu zice nu

ea e femeia care are grija de tine atunci cand nu te astepti

ea e femeia care te iubeste in tacere

ea e femeia care se bucura pt reusitele tale si sufera pt esecurile tale fara ca tu sa iti dai seama

ea e femeia pe care ai pierdut-o atunci cand ai incercat sa o castigi

ea e femeia pe care o strigi noaptea in vis fara sa vrei

ea e femeia pe care o urasti ca o iubesti atat de mult

ea e femeia care stie sa te aline

ea e femeia care poata sa faca totul motivata doar de faptul ca existi

ea e femeia care nu se lasa cucerita de o gramada de bani ci de o gramada de sentimente

ea e femeia al carui zambet nu il poti uita si ale carei lacrimi te-au marcat pe viata

ea e femeia in care gasesti mereu un copil de care sa ai grija dar e destul de matura incat sa se descurce singura si sa stie ce vrea de la viata....

ea e femeia de care ti-e dor chiar si atunci cand e langa tine

ea e femeia pt care totul nu e de ajuns

ea e femeiea pt care ai face orice dar de care iti este frica

ea e femeia visurilor tale dar tu alegi sa stai langa alta

ea e femeia ce te iubeste neincetat

ea e femeia ce iti stapaneste gandurile

ea .... 

 

Gri!

Plâns de cobe pe la geamuri se opri,

Şi pe lume plumb de iarnă s-a lăsat;

„I-auzi corbii” ─ mi-am zis singur... şi-am oftat;

Iar în zarea grea de plumb

Ninge gri.

Ca şi zarea, gândul meu se înnegri...

Şi de lume tot mai singur, mai barbar,

Trist cu-o pană mătur vatra, solitar...

Iar în zarea grea de plumb

Ninge gri.

(George Bacovia, Gri)

poems...

Firul de sânge care-mi iese din buzunar

firul de lână care-mi iese din ochi

firul de tutun care-mi iese din urechi

firul de flăcări care-mi iese din nări

Tu poţi crede că urechile mele fumează

dar oamenii au rămas ţintuiţi în mijlocul străzii

pentru că în noaptea asta se vor vopsi în negru toate statuile

şi va fi insomnia mea aceea pe care o vei cunoaşte

o insomnie oarecare de cretă şi de argilă

o insomnie ca o sobă sau ca o uşe

sau mai bine ca golul unei uşi

şi în dosul acestei uşi vreau să vorbim de memorie

vreau să mă miroşi ca pe o fereastră

vreau să mă auzi ca pe un arbore

vreau să mă pipăi ca pe o scară

vreau să mă vezi ca pe un turn

(Gellu Naum, Oglinda oarbă)

De-abia plecaseşi. Te-am rugat să pleci.

Te urmăream de-a lungul molatecii poteci,

Pân-ai pierit, la capăt, prin trifoi.

Nu te-ai uitat o dată înapoi!

Ţi-aş fi făcut un semn, după plecare,

Dar ce-i un semn de umbră-n depărtare?

Voiam să pleci, voiam şi să rămâi.

Ai ascultat de gândul cel dintâi.

Nu te oprise gândul fără glas.

De ce-ai plecat? De ce-ai mai fi rămas?

(Tudor Arghezi, De-abia plecaseşi)

Când stai în tren şi pleacă trenul vecin,

De ce ai impresia că ai plecat

Tu?

Primăvara şi toamna

Te tot uiţi pe cer, pierdut în gânduri,

Stoluri de păsări vin,

Stoluri de păsări pleacă,

De ce ai impresia că mergi tu?

Toată viaţa m-am uitat pe fereastră

Pironit într-un colţ

De autobuz, de tren, de vapor

Hurducat de căruţă

M-am uitat cum fug de mine copacii,

Oameni, oraşe, continente

De ce sunt copleşit de atâtea emoţii,

De ce am impresia că am cunoscut lumea?

(Marin Sorescu, Pleacă trenul)

We learn both through studying and through the experience that life gives us!

Since childhood, we spend our lives sitting in some school desks, four, five, six, seven hours a day, drawing lines, learning the ABC, trying to be the best in all that we can. As years pass by, we learn more and more things, we get involved in many extra-curricular activities, trying to make our school life as easy and as joyful as it can be.

Day by day, week by week, month by month, year by year, as we grow up, we start to think of other things than just how to get good marks or to impress ourselves with how good or bad we actually are. When we reach adolescence, our feelings start taking attitude, we fall in love, we make many friends with whom we go out and have fun.

In this part of our life, school can not interfere. Although we learn many things in school, it does not teach us how to love. This chapter of our lives is teached and learned by ourselves, and if something goes wrong...well...that is where experience gets involved.

From all the things we are being taught in school, some are let outside for experience to teach us. It is said that experince is the worst teacher of them all in one's life, because, at first it gives you the test, and then it teaches you the lesson. For example, in a relationship, you know what to avoid, but at some point, you make a mistake, and only after you suffer the consequences, you learn that you shouldn't have said or done what you did.

Once we finish school and face real life, we get to realise that what we've learned in theory is much harder to put into practice. We have to make our way through life, and try to avoid hitting the walls that surround us, so that the pursuit of happiness is much easier.

That is why, we learn both through studying and through the experiences that life gives us.

Delaying misery...

Once upon a time there was this little girl..trying desperately to convince herself that...one day...a prince in shining armour would come and rescue her from all that's bad in her life..They would run away...and live happily ever after...Cute story, right?

Well...in the real world, none of this can happen...These stories were created, for us, children like me, to imagine that one day, they would be able to live the story, or rewrite it the way they wanted to, but as similar as possible to the original one! 

But who lived a fairytale? I know I didn't...Have you? If you did, congratulations...but don't give us the recipe..Our Prince Charming will show up one day..The day our misery has reached it's final point..and we'll be smiling, looking up from six feet under!

No, I am not trying to make a drama scene by writing this, but, why do good things come in short supplies? Why don't we have enough time to enjoy good things? Why do we have the tendency to waste them all? Why do we throw good this away from us, and realise that only long after we did that? Who are we to judge the judgement of others?

Who am I to judge you?

And...

Who am I, in the end, to ask all these questions?

The art of living...

Pearblossom Highway… an ordinary desert highway…but if you look at the substrate…a simple view of it, you can compare it to one’s life!

During one’s lifetime, one has to make certain decisions, certain choices…choices that will eventually change one’s life, one way or another. At some point, one has to confront oneself with problems, having to choose between moving on or stopping or just ignoring it…or one just might be prevented or advised to: “STOP AHEAD”…Would one listen? Put yourself in one’s shoes…would you listen? Would you pay attention? Would you prevent yourself from a potential crash or you would go straight ahead without caring about the sign given or shown.

Through all the misleads of life, all the left-over, through all the memories, mistakes or good deeds, a person can always find himself/herself surrounded by the good and bad that life can offer; but that good or bad depends on each person's point of view. There are plenty of examples: some want a career before family, some want love before career, some want both at the same time, and some have none. It is said that when you crave for too much, you risk getting nothing, due to your stubbornness of having everything. "Everything" is gained in time, with experience and patience, love and understanding, trust and compromise!

          Having great expectations often brings great disappointments. Putting your hopes high for something that eventually proves itself hopeless or impossible, can crash a person. They say impossible is nothing, and if that so, why is the definition of impossible so clear, so certain, and so often seen? Is this life worth all the thinking, hoping, expecting?

            I’ve heard persons saying that life is an art! Well…If life is an art, then why aren’t we surrounded by so many artists? Why aren’t out there many more who are able to say: “I was a maestro in this art called life. I carved it with my music, with the color palette of the poems I’ve lived.”

            Why have we got so many stars, but just few artists in their true meaning? And if life is an art, then why are there so many homeless people all around the world, whom fight to survive from a day to the next? Where is the art in their lives? And most important: where is the art in having a life filled and fed with illusions, hopes…and as you age…everything hides behind the curtain, which is already consumed by time …and dreams that have already fallen asleep.

            And the answer given to all these questions is that life is an art just because it’s incomprehensible, just as all arts are. There are few people who know how to appreciate what was given to them: the right to live. If we search art in shortcomings, in useless things and hours wasted on nothing, we don’t know what it is that we are searching for.  If we have something to reproach, we should reproach it to ourselves. It’s true…some are born luckier that others, but we all ought to put good use to our resources and make our own way through life. The real frustration is that life is, in the end, an art but not many of us are able to become artists. We live our lives paying attention to things that aren’t worth it, to things that shouldn’t matter.

            When you get near a crossroads, just like in David Hockney’s picture, you realize that you have to make a decision that, in the end, will lead you to maturity… which leads you to real life, real persons and real problems…through all those…try finding yourself… Taking the right way can make you blossom!

            A human being, although surrounded by a sea of people, is born and dies alone, just like a cactus in the desert, where, far away, one can see a dusty highway, forgotten by time and space!

            Unfortunately, in a world full of bad persons, good persons are becoming harder and harder to find. Although so young, us, children heading heavily towards maturity, get to see all the bad things happening around us…The way I see it…life is just a prelude of death…Whose death? The death of good? Of bad? Both? None? Who knows? ...Only one person knows, but that is not a simple person…is God!

            However, each and every one of us is just a black spot on a blank map…A map of such complexity…the map called life!

So, in the end, what is life? An incomprehensible art, consisting of dusty desert highways, crossroads, shortcomings, short lasting happiness, lack of attention… But great landscapes!