Friday 30 March 2018

Church bells

"I have loved many women and men, but I loved none better than you [...]" - Walt Whitman 


Church bells ring. 
I was wondering why. It's almost Easter, isn't it? 
They have a different sound in this country, happier and deeper. 
It makes me think to a great sadness which is, however, covered in hope. 
Compared with the sound of other bells which I heard before, this specific sound makes me feel different. 
I like the beautiful fusion between good and bad. Between ending and an eternal beginning. It reminds me of my life and, most of all, it reminds me of us. 

I started reading "The Alchemist". I was thinking about this book since summer, when your lips pronounced the name of it for the first time. When you, the guy who only used to hear stories about books from me, recommended me a book. 
I wanted to laugh.
Now, I just smile.
I haven't feel so nervous about holding a book in my hands since I was little. 
I lost that crazy feeling of wanting but not wanting to read something. When you are intrigued by a story but you are not sure if you actually want to finish it. Fear of disappointment but also the fear of reading something so amazing, knowing that it will be eventually over. 
This time, I am afraid for a different reason. 
I hold this book in my hands and I am scared because every word makes me think about you. Knowing that you read those words, I keep wondering what were you thinking while you were reading them, what meaning did you find? 
I imagine you wearing your black shirt, behind the bar, moving the pages while you're moving your eyes, and thinking, imagining.
I like the story, but I am not sure if I want to finish it or not. I like thinking about you, but I am aware that it hurts my feelings, just as I am aware of the fact that I will finish the book, unable to exchange any idea with you, any thought. 
I wish you could be in this bed with me, too big for a single soul, on your back, helping me to discover where that beautiful mind wanders. I will probably smoke a cigarette by the window, watching you. I can hear you making mean jokes about how I shouldn't smoke but I don't think I could hear them properly, because I would be too focused on your appearance. 
Every time I had the chance to see you, I was so careful to remember every detail. It's like I knew, the entire time, that it will come a day when I won't be able to see you anymore. 
Now, when I am indeed live this eternal fear, I am concerned that it might come a day when it will be so hard to remember your smile. Every day it gets harder to remember your laugh. 
By reading this book I am trying to keep myself as close to you as possible. 
And I know it sounds crazy.

But crazy is the life itself.
I have a new job. It makes me so tired, but I won't complain because I wanted it so badly. And it also reminds me of you. The only difference between then and now is that when I look behind the bar, there is no you. 
When I make a cappuccino, all I can think about is how you made cappuccinos, and how you would criticize me for the way I am making it. 
I wake up in the morning, before the sun gets the chance to warm this world a little bit. I have to walk through some kind of village, seems like a small forest, with a path in the middle of it. Do you remember how we were walking through the park, in order to get to work ? We didn't really take the bus, we were enjoying too much talking and walking in the nature. Seeing the lake, smelling the morning air.
Here, there is no bus. 
But even if it would have been one, I would chose the walk because I like to see how the sky gets blue, to smell the daffodils, to observe the British old fashioned houses. Some of them are so beautiful. I am thinking about living there with you, it would be such a dream. Waking up and smelling the trees together, while you're making coffee. Then in the night time, talking about life while facing the warming fire of a chimney, making love somewhere between. 
This would be a fulfilling life. 
But the reality is so much different. 
I walk on the hill, which takes my breath away. I am not really happy to work here, it makes me feel like a stranger. I am tired and my legs hurt. I can see so many cars and I am wondering where all this people go. 
I serve a lot of tea. With milk, please. 
When I finish, I walk down the hill, while looking at the dawn. The view's so beautiful. This nature makes me to believe in tomorrow.
I come back "home", it's all empty. I spend most of my days alone. I am not that bothered, after all, they took everything from me. Except your memory.
Two days ago, I had sex with someone. It wasn't even sex, it was just a forced physical interaction that I refused from the beginning. 
The next they I woke up crying. The shower didn't take away all my disgust. I felt assaulted, covered in dirt. I didn't want to be this way, to end up like this.
Or when I was so drunk in the club that I fell. And I had to talk calm, trying to hide the unbearable pain which was exploding in my body. I still have the bruises. In the same night I took a shower with all my clothes on, I felt so sick.
I am glad, however, that all these things happen because now, I am going to keep myself alone, in order to avoid this horrifying experiences. 
This is not me. I knew by then, just as I know now.
But there are so many things, so many thoughts, and there is no you.
Every time I feel so much disgust for the world, I remember that the world has you, so it can't be that bad.
I live with this deeply regret that I can't be with you and that I can't find a single soul who would treat me like I am more than an object, but I am trying to keep myself focused on things which really matter. 
Such us our memory, such as myself.
I am working on that, and I will make us proud.

Lotus

Monday 26 February 2018

beauty of the world

"With such a hell in your heart and your head, how can you live? How can you love?" - F. Dostoyevsky 


A couple of weeks ago, I had this dream about you. 
I was sleeping with you on my chest. 
And then I woke up, and it was me, just me. But in the back of my mind, I was looking, once again, in those brown eyes which I got the chance to see for the first time 3 years ago, in the summer of my life. 
And I missed you terribly. 
I wanted to write, but I was tired of all these weird emotions. My body felt heavy, like you were still there. But I was, however, in peace. Because you'll always be my deepest silence, the dream of my life, the beauty of the world. 

And last night, I had another dream. I woke up without remembering it. I had this weird chaos in my mind, like I've been in some place, unable to remember why I was there and what I was doing. 
I took a shower and right there, covered in boiled water and hopelessness, I remembered my dream. It was you, once again. We were back together, after a long distance, maybe longer than this one. We were holding hands, and we were just the same. 
The same crazy kids who were lying on the same bench in the park, unable to imagine all that was about to come, creating dreams and lives in our minds. What if someone would have told us then about this madness? Now, when I'm thinking about my future, I am scared. Is it going to be crazier than this? 

When the memory of this dream hit me, I asked myself  "why". You're always in my mind, that's a fact, but the dreams about us are long gone. It's been years, after all. When I am awake, I don't romaticize us anymore, I don't build a future for us. Because it hurts and because it's not possible. But I think about you when I'm in my bed in the morning, when I see something that reminds me of that beautiful childhood of us or simply when I make myself some breakfast. But mostly, I remember about you when I can't endure my life. When people hurt me, lie to me, cheat on me, humiliate me. And I start crying, and then I think about you with anger and kindness, all at once. Because you were the only one who accepted me for who I was, who saw me and took me without asking for something back. Because for you I wasn't an object of desire. You didn't ask me for sex, you asked me about my dreams, about my deepest emotions. You were telling me all that's bad about myself, but not to drag me down, as they all do, but to help me grow. When I was bad, you were mad, because you thought I have the potential to be just great. 
I am not sure if you loved me, but I know that you wanted to know me and maybe, sometimes, to hold me. 
And I am so fond of you, when I think about this all. And I am so deeply disgusted by this present where all of that is gone, where I can't find anyone like this again and most of all, where I can't have you back. Where I have to deal with all of this pain and anger all by myself. 

Maybe that's why I dream about you and I wake up full of sadness. 

But let me tell you about me, because I am different now, on so many levels. 
I was in love with someone and after that, I have been depressed and I dealt with all of that by myself. It took me a long time and many nights of tears to take myself back there in the world, to breath in, and then to breath out. Telling myself "don't give up, don't give in, there is an answer to everything."
The pain from the inside went right out, starting to damage my friendships. It took just a couple of days to find myself lying on the floor, utterly alone. Somehow, I sorted it out. But I was already exhausted, insecure and damaged. 
Meanwhile, I had to take care of my degree. But I didn't. The stress, the panic and the anxiety made it all even worse. I don't know what I am doing anymore, how to do it, why to do it. 
I am not motivated anymore, some days I just feel that I am not capable at all. 
And then, I got out of money.
And I cried. Because I struggled to work, but I couldn't find any place for it. So then I had to spend all my days inside my room, my ugly, green pale room. 
And then I found myself in the arms of a guy that I didn't know anything about. Just because I wanted to be hold just for once, just because I wanted to be their definition of normal. I was sick of tears, tired of loneliness. I needed a physical thing now, just because I wanted to feel like a human, because I wanted to be kissed, because  I wanted someone to lie on my chest, to replace the pressure of the world. Because I am young, and I live a crazy life, and I had to adapt. 
It was just a couple of days until I heard the truth. The "truth" they said about me. That I am stupid, that all I am is a body. 
And it hurt me deeply. And I had to convince myself that they weren't right. I had to keep looking at them like I wasn't breaking on the inside. Maybe they are right, but even if they are, I still had to keep going, I still have to wake up and then go back to sleep.
And I cried and cried, and smoked and listen to music and walked around, day and night, just to keep myself busy.
And this is what I am doing now.
And then I am at my window once again, smoking, seeing the moon covered in clouds. And I think of you. Would you still care for me, if you would see me now? Would I still be here, if you weren't there? 
I am not sure who I am anymore, or what to do. 
Somehow, after all these years, you're still the only thing that I am sure about, my only refuge, the most beautiful part of my life, my eternal gratitude and my best friend.
But do I ever cross your mind.....

Ascunsa








Wednesday 31 January 2018

saying goodbye

"We live in a rainbow of chaos." - Paul Cezanne.

Iubesc marea. 
Sa ma arunc in neinchipuita ei adancime mi s-a parut cel mai firesc lucru. Era ca o chemare de undeva din afara mea, ceva incontrolabil, depasind inimaginabil limitele mele umane.
Ratiunea, singurul lucru ce m-ar fi putut incetini din a ma arunca in cel mai sublim necunoscut, mi 
s-a parut pe atunci o notiune abstracta. 
Pentru ca aveam curaj. 
Fiindca definitia tineretii nu era alta decat nebunia momentului, haosul inimii parea sa-mi dicteze pasii, sa-mi ghideze, de fapt, toata existenta. 
N-am vazut pe atunci ce furtuna nebuna strabatea marea si n-am putut, nici macar sa ghicesc, ceata sufocanta de la celalalt mal. 
Eram imbatata de un albastru nefiresc de frumos, de niste emotii puerile care infloreau in mine zi de zi, asemenea unui lotus.
Lotus...
M-am aruncat in mare si aproape ca m-am inecat. Poate ca nu este niciun "aproape", poate ca, intr-adevar, am murit si traiesc un vis, dar nu este visul meu.
Fiindca obisnuiam sa visez frumos, in aceasta imagine tulbure a vietii mele, abia pot sa respir. Am plamanii scufundati in tutun si in apa sarata careia i-am atribuit numele tau. 
Nu mai pot sa gandesc lucid, astept finalul fiecarei zile pentru ca, desi vesnic izbita de amintirea ta,  tigara fumata la geam, vocea lui Frank Sinatra pe fundal si cerul senin al noptii ma fac sa-mi amintesc ca inca exist. Singurele clipe in care, ravasita dupa o alta zi, pare ca ma regasesc undeva, pe cel mai pustiit tarm al lumii. 
Sunt o epava. Delirez la infinit si mi-e dor de mare. 
De tine, de entuziasmul si bucuria pe care obisnuiam sa le simt cand ma scufundam tot mai mult, inconstienta, pierduta. 
Acum m-am trezit si ma doare. 
Acesta fiind motivul noptilor mele tarzii si sufletului meu amortit. 
Sunt singura si ma debusoleaza sentimentul ca, inconjurata de oameni pare ca ma simt si mai incremenita. 
Care ar fi, in fond, solutia la o problema numita "tu" ?
Ieri am vazut o poza cu tine. Sau poate a fost acum doua zile, sau intr-o alta viata.. nu mai stiu. Timpul isi pierde insemnatatea, cand nu te bucuri de el in niciun fel. O zi e doar o zi, o ora e doar o ora, amintirea ta este, se pare, singurul meu ceas.
Un ceas care merge inapoi, infigandu-si sagetile in sufletul meu obosit. 
Pareai fericit. Am inceput sa plang insa, de aceasta data, nu stiu daca am plans din cauza propriei mele nefericiri sau fiindca zambetul tau este oxigenul dupa care tanjesc, ca orice om inecat. 
Vazandu-ti sclipirea de bucurie capturata in fotografie, aproape ca am uitat cine esti si ce am ajuns sa fiu eu, din cauza ta.
Pentru cateva minute erai din nou copilul care dormea cu capul pe pieptul meu, in prima zi de toamna. Erai cei mai frumosi ochi pe care i-am vazut vreodata, stand deasupra mea, zambit copilaresc in intimitatea serilor noastre. 
Auzeam din nou vesnica noastra melodie de fundal si simteam in piept racoarea acelor dimineti de vara, cand rataceam de nebuni pe strazile goale. Si-mi amintesc cat de plina ma simteam eu. Si ce frumoasa era marea, si ce frumos erai tu. Atunci si intotdeauna. 
Sunt momente cand as vrea sa retraiesc acele clipe in care eram infatisarea delirului sau cel putin sa le uit, sa sterg orice urma de bucurie, pentru ca tristetea insuportabila de acum sa nu mai aiba nicio continuitate. 
Dar fiindca nu se poate savarsi niciuna din aceste dorinte absurde, nu pot decat sa-mi iau ramas bun. 
Au trecut prea multe luni traite intr-o singuratate desavarsita. 
M-am trezit tarziu atat de multe dimineti, incercand sa raman tot mai mult in inconstienta somnului, fiidnca m-am saturat sa-mi amintesc...
In alte nopti, cand adorm gandindu-ma la viitorul pe care nu vom ajunge sa-l traim impreuna, te visez. Te vad fericit cu altcineva. 
Insa stiu ca acestea nu sunt doar scenarii imaginare generate de mintea mea pierduta in disperare, ci o realitate la care incerc sa ma acomodez. 
Nu cred ca am sa inteleg vreodata care ti-au fost motivele.
Cum ai putut sa strangi in brate o fata care te iubeste mai mult decat s-ar putea vreodata iubi pe ea insasi si sa minti. Si sa nu te doara si pe tine. 
Nu am sa stiu niciodata de ce si cum am ajuns aici, intr-o viata pe care mi-e greu s-o numesc a mea. 
Am vrut sa fii fericit, cumva, inca vreau. In scurtele momente cand uit inghetul prin care incerc sa ma misc. 
Nu m-am considerat niciodata un om egoist, as fi vrut sa te stiu fericit, sa stii ca te iubesc si ca asta nu se va schimba. Dar cat imi doresc, acum, sa uit de toate acestea.
Nu-mi amintesc sa fii trait vreodata un chin mai mare, o umilinta mai adanca. 
De aceea, in prima zi a unei alte luni de iarna, imi iau la revedere.
Pe atunci imi doream sa nu trebuiasca niciodata sa spun cuvinte atat de grele, azi imi doresc sa nu te fi cunoscut deloc. Poate ca asa as fi putut sa dorm si sa traiesc.
Nu mai am energie sa fiu tulburata de manie, nici timp sa ma mai adancesc in vise imposibil de atins, nici in gandurile astea sufocante...
Deci ramai cu bine, intr-una dintre cele mai dureroase secvente ale vietii mele.

Ascunsa

" In ochii fericirii ma uit pierdut si plang. " - M.Eminescu

" In ochii fericirii ma uit pierdut si plang. "  - M.Eminescu