"Now the story's played out like this
Just like a paperback novel
Let's rewrite an ending that fits
Instead of a Hollywood horror..."
"Someday"-Nickelback
Daca tu crezi ca viata este un film si atunci cand mori ti se va derula in fata ochilor...inseamna:
1 - nu ai murit inca...
2 - ai ascultat prea multe povesti.
Deci sa lamurim lucrurile, va spun acest lucru din experienta...da, I'm definitely dead...si da, ma adresez tie...cum am murit? Accident de masina. De ce simt nevoia sa vorbesc cu tine? Nu stiu, poate ca devenind fantoma...well, I have too much time on my hands!
Primul este socul: No, I can't be dead!!! Sau negarea...hmm oh well...Apoi intunericul...
Apoi lumina...hint: Si in iad poate fi lumina...
"Bine ai venit copila" a soptit o voce, trezindu-ma din amalgamul de ganduri ce incepeau sa semene cu potiunea dezgustatoare a mamei vitrege a lui Alba-ca-Zapada. Nu stiu daca cea din fata mea era un inger, o zeitate...de o frumusete coplesitoare, dar presupun ca ii lipsea simtul umorului.("Bine ai venit?" No shit, who would want to be dead...). Ochii ei de o sinceritate arzatoare puteau sa vada pana in strafundurile sufletului meu.
"Vei deveni ingerul lui pazitor...el are nevoie de tine...acum." El? Nici nu mi-am dat seama ca toate sentimentele care se amalgamau in inima mea orbitau in jurul lui: regret ca nu am putut sa imi iau ramas-bun, regret ca nu i-am zis "te iubesc", regret ... regret...prea putin...prea tarziu...
"Chiar trebuie sa veghez asupra acelui idiot pana isi va gasi drumul in viata?" am zis inca neputand sa dau glas sentimentelor pe care le simteam.
"Cred ca te-am iubit mai mult decat am vrut ca tu sa stii" am soptit uitandu-ma la imaginea baiatului perfect din coloana de fum care s-a materializat in fata mea.
"Si el te iubeste..." a soptit zeita cu glasul ei de miere. "Acum du-te si vegheaza asupra inimii tale pentru ca ea bate in interiorul lui...Si cu tine ca ingerul lui pazitor...sigur va gasi calea pierduta..."
Nu am intrebat-o niciodata de ce s-a intamplat acest lucru...si nici nu cred ca as vrea sa stiu de ce lumea mea s-a destramat, de ce ghemul de ata numit viata s-a terminat atat de brusc ...nu...acum singurul lucru bun pe care il pot face este sa fiu vantul ce bate din umbra pentru a mai putea simti atingerea sa...macar pentru un ceas, un moment, o clipa, o secunda...
"I'd give my all to have
Just one more night with you
I'd risk my life to
feel
Your body next to mine
'Cause I can't go on
Living in the memory of our song
I'd give my all for your love
tonight..."
"My all"-Mariah Carey
Epilog:
"25 Martie...Ziua ei..." a gandit el nostalgic.
Mihai putea vedea cum soarele apunea usor printre copaci...desi a fost o zi minunata de primavara...parea lipsita de culoare, de sunet, de veselie...cititul nu mai parea asa amuzant...de unul singur...in buzunar inca il apasa greutatea unui lantisor pe care nu i-l va mai putea darui niciodata..."La multi ani, iubito".
Deodata vantul incepe sa bata si in zumzetul fruzelor i s-a parut ca a auzit glasul departat al Ameliei rostind: "Part time lover, full time friend...forever...". Prima data de la accident cand a zambit din inima...
PS: orice asemanare cu personaje reale e pur intamplatoare...si daca seamana...i couldn't care less...xoxo yours truly, alexu-chan
25 ian. 2012
Jack the Ripper
Slaughter my dreams and chase my heart,
Beautiful as the devil, cruel as a cold angel
Your vendetta felt like branded iron-
you were smart...
A Celestial Bronze sword to perish my anger,
An Obsidian Dagger to twist me in tangles.
How can I breathe smoke, you may ask!?
Because living with you is an excruciating task.
Blue eyed danger - yes, you're a monster
Let my veins bleed ink and throw me in the dumpster.
Beautiful as the devil, cruel as a cold angel
Your vendetta felt like branded iron-
you were smart...
A Celestial Bronze sword to perish my anger,
An Obsidian Dagger to twist me in tangles.
How can I breathe smoke, you may ask!?
Because living with you is an excruciating task.
Blue eyed danger - yes, you're a monster
Let my veins bleed ink and throw me in the dumpster.
23 ian. 2012
Rock 'n' Roll nerd
He doesn't have a problem with drugs
He just doesn't get them
He's fine that his mates have tattoos
But he thinks they'll regret them
He likes going to pubs
But he hates when the music's too loud
He tends not to go to rock concerts
Cos he can't stand the crowd
But all he's ever wanted to be
Is a rock star on Rage or MTV
But he knows that it's not fucking likely
He's just turned thirty
He knows that he will always be
A rock 'n' roll nerd
He'll keep writing songs the world will never hear
And though they won't be heard
He'll just keep writing
Oh yeah
But you see the problem is
He always dreamt of being a star
But he learned piano instead of guitar
Which in the nineties didn't get you very far
So while all the other kids were learning Stairway
He was the piano to their forte
But he was convinced one day
He'd rock their fucking asses
Be an icon for the disenfranchised masses
And grow his hair long
And rebel against the state
But just for now that'd have to wait
Cos he's running late for his morning classes
And he will always be
A rock 'n' roll nerd
He'll keep playing gigs that no one knows about
And though it sounds absurd
He'll just keep playing
Oh yeah
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/t/tim_minchin/rock_n_roll_nerd.html ]
But you see the problem is
There's not much depth in what he's singing
He's a victim of his upper middle class upbringing
So he can't write about the hood
Or bling bling
So he sits and imagines his girlfriend is dead
To try and invoke some angst in his middle class head
But the bitch is always fine at half past nine
When they go to bed
And he's not spent a single night in prison
He has no issues with nutrition
He has no drinking problem
And no drug addiction
Unless you count the drugs they put in chicken
And marijuana always tends to make him cough
He doesn't look good with his t-shirt off
And when he tries to act tough you can tell he's trickin'
While his mates all go out late
Popping pills and having fun
He goes home and showers
And gets a good eight hours
He gets his thrills from his morning run
And while his mates all go on dates
Taking speed and drinking cans of Jim Bean
He stays home and cooks
Curls up with a book
With the girl he's had since he was seventeen
Cos he's never really been part of the scene
Give him guns 'n' roses, he'll take Queen
He's more into Beatles than The Stones
He's more Stevie Wonder than Ramones
And he's never owned a panel van
He's never shot a Panterra fan
He doesn't know the difference between metal and thrash
He couldn't tell you nothing about Axel and Slash
He likes Ben Folds to the Jackson Five
He knows all the words to Staying Alive
And though he wants to be all grungy and cool
He spent eleven years in a private school
So it don't matter how he tries
He cannot hide behind his rock 'n' roll lies
Cos you've either got it or you don't
You'll either rock it or you won't
Yeah, you've either got it or you don't
Yeah, you'll either rock it or you won't
He knows that his music lacks depth
But it just can't be helped
He has nothing interesting to say
So he writes about himself
But he doesn't want to seem self obsessed
So he writes in third person
In an attempt to seem more rock 'n' roll
But he suspects it's not workin'
And deep in his heart he knows
That he'll never be Silver Chair or Eskimo Joe
And even if he was quite pretty
With small pants like Kylie
He knows that he
Will always be
A rock 'n' roll nerd
He'll keep writing songs the world don't care about
And though it sounds absurd
He'll just keep writing
Oh yeah
You can criticise him
But he won't care
Cos he wants to rock, and he will never be deterred
But he'll always be a fucked up little, try-hard, wannabe rock 'n' roll nerd
Rock 'n' roll nerd
He just doesn't get them
He's fine that his mates have tattoos
But he thinks they'll regret them
He likes going to pubs
But he hates when the music's too loud
He tends not to go to rock concerts
Cos he can't stand the crowd
But all he's ever wanted to be
Is a rock star on Rage or MTV
But he knows that it's not fucking likely
He's just turned thirty
He knows that he will always be
A rock 'n' roll nerd
He'll keep writing songs the world will never hear
And though they won't be heard
He'll just keep writing
Oh yeah
But you see the problem is
He always dreamt of being a star
But he learned piano instead of guitar
Which in the nineties didn't get you very far
So while all the other kids were learning Stairway
He was the piano to their forte
But he was convinced one day
He'd rock their fucking asses
Be an icon for the disenfranchised masses
And grow his hair long
And rebel against the state
But just for now that'd have to wait
Cos he's running late for his morning classes
And he will always be
A rock 'n' roll nerd
He'll keep playing gigs that no one knows about
And though it sounds absurd
He'll just keep playing
Oh yeah
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/t/tim_minchin/rock_n_roll_nerd.html ]
But you see the problem is
There's not much depth in what he's singing
He's a victim of his upper middle class upbringing
So he can't write about the hood
Or bling bling
So he sits and imagines his girlfriend is dead
To try and invoke some angst in his middle class head
But the bitch is always fine at half past nine
When they go to bed
And he's not spent a single night in prison
He has no issues with nutrition
He has no drinking problem
And no drug addiction
Unless you count the drugs they put in chicken
And marijuana always tends to make him cough
He doesn't look good with his t-shirt off
And when he tries to act tough you can tell he's trickin'
While his mates all go out late
Popping pills and having fun
He goes home and showers
And gets a good eight hours
He gets his thrills from his morning run
And while his mates all go on dates
Taking speed and drinking cans of Jim Bean
He stays home and cooks
Curls up with a book
With the girl he's had since he was seventeen
Cos he's never really been part of the scene
Give him guns 'n' roses, he'll take Queen
He's more into Beatles than The Stones
He's more Stevie Wonder than Ramones
And he's never owned a panel van
He's never shot a Panterra fan
He doesn't know the difference between metal and thrash
He couldn't tell you nothing about Axel and Slash
He likes Ben Folds to the Jackson Five
He knows all the words to Staying Alive
And though he wants to be all grungy and cool
He spent eleven years in a private school
So it don't matter how he tries
He cannot hide behind his rock 'n' roll lies
Cos you've either got it or you don't
You'll either rock it or you won't
Yeah, you've either got it or you don't
Yeah, you'll either rock it or you won't
He knows that his music lacks depth
But it just can't be helped
He has nothing interesting to say
So he writes about himself
But he doesn't want to seem self obsessed
So he writes in third person
In an attempt to seem more rock 'n' roll
But he suspects it's not workin'
And deep in his heart he knows
That he'll never be Silver Chair or Eskimo Joe
And even if he was quite pretty
With small pants like Kylie
He knows that he
Will always be
A rock 'n' roll nerd
He'll keep writing songs the world don't care about
And though it sounds absurd
He'll just keep writing
Oh yeah
You can criticise him
But he won't care
Cos he wants to rock, and he will never be deterred
But he'll always be a fucked up little, try-hard, wannabe rock 'n' roll nerd
Rock 'n' roll nerd
22 ian. 2012
Prejudecati
Uitandu-ma in jurul meu am observat ca toti avem prejudecati: unii uram tiganii, altii evreii, altii americanii etc. Dar faptul ca toti avem prejudecati nu trebuie sa ne faca sa credem ca nu este o problema. Nu pot sa condamn pe nimeni ca are prejudecati atata timp cat si eu am prejudecatiile mele, dar nici nu pot sa nu realizez ca este o problema destul de grava. Dar realizarea faptului ca ai o problema este primul pas spre a indrepta problema. Asa ca ar fi bine ca toti sa "pierdem" putin timp analizandu-ne, sa ne descoperim prejudecatile si sa incercam sa le indreptam. Prejudecatiile ne pot ingusta mintea si s-ar putea sa pierdem lucruri interesante. Cel mai bine este sa dai o sansa la tot si sa nu spui niciodata ca nu-ti place ceva fara sa fi incercat. Nu poti spune despre o carte ca e proasta fara sa o citesti, nu poti spune despre o persoana ca e urata fara sa o fi vazut macar o data, asa ca hai sa incercam sa fim mai deschisi si sa nu ne mai lasam condusi de prejudecati.
Lacomia
In ultima vreme am inceput sa ma gandesc destul de mult la instinctele noastre cu care ne-a inzestrat natura si am realizat ca nu reusesc sa imi explic de unde provine lacomia. Prin lacomie ma refer la dorinta de a avea cat mai mult, in momentul cand deja nu iti mai este necesar pentru supravietuire sau etc, chiar daca asta inseamna sa calci pe cadavre.
Oare lacomia este un instinct care a existat mereu in noi, la fel ca instinctul de conservare sau de perpetuare a speciei? Sau este ceva ce oamenii au dezvoltat pe parcursul timpului si a ajuns sa ne caracterizeze ca specie? Si daca este ceva ce s-a dezvoltat, de unde a inceput totul si ce a provocat aparitia acestui sentiment?
Oare lacomia este un instinct care a existat mereu in noi, la fel ca instinctul de conservare sau de perpetuare a speciei? Sau este ceva ce oamenii au dezvoltat pe parcursul timpului si a ajuns sa ne caracterizeze ca specie? Si daca este ceva ce s-a dezvoltat, de unde a inceput totul si ce a provocat aparitia acestui sentiment?
21 ian. 2012
Omenirea...o punga de Skittles
Daca as fi un inger...as putea sa simt? Si daca da...atunci ar fi serenitate ori suspin ori manie? Dar, oare as putea sa simt?
Nu stim...noi suntem doar oameni. Eu sunt doar o lacrima intr-un ocean plin de suflete care mai de care mai colorate. A-ti fost vreodata pe un stadion? Nu numai ca eu m-am considerat un mic graunte de orez intr-o mare de persoane, dar acea mare era doar o particica dintr-un ocean. Sa ne imaginam ca populatia poate fi restransa la o punga de Skittles. Fiecare dintre noi este diferit. Asa cum bomboanele au diferite arome si culori, asa se intampla si in viata de zi cu zi. Nimeni nu se imbraca la fel, nimeni nu gandeste la fel...dar eu sunt doar o persoana...o singura bomboana. "Eu" pronume personal de persoana I, eu...pot eu un bob de orez sa schimb lumea? De ce nu as putea fi altceva? Dar traiesc, respir...locul meu este pe pamant...urmez un ciclu al vietii: m-am nascut, traiesc, ma indrogostesc si mor...iar atunci cand trupul meu se va intoarce in pamantul din care a fost zamislit...poate voi da viata unor flori...poate ma voi reincarna intr-o floare...dar oare poate o floare sa vada lumea? As vrea ca in fiecare zi sa fiu vizitata de catre o albina...polenul meu sa se raspandeasca in aer...sa fie plimbat in mici particule prin tot universul...Poate asa, intr-o viata, as putea sa simt lumea...ca o mica particula de praf ce lenevesc in soarele egiptean pe piramida lui Keops...sau pe faimoasa piramida a lunii construita cu secole in urma de Mayasi...Poate as putea atunci sa ascult cantecul universului, dar oare cum a luat nastere?
Vise...sau visuri...momentan nu stiu nimic...sunt doar un om...traiesc si mor...
20 ian. 2012
19 ian. 2012
Groază, milă, nebunie
Groază, milă, nebunie. Atea sunt sentimentele care mă încearcă când mă uit la televizor. Sigur că problema nu este televizorul meu mic și vechi, ci acțiunea de degradare a tinerilor ROMÂNI. Mă uit stupefiat la o domnișoară îmbrăcată în uniforma lui Che Guevara - după ce mă reculeg, într-un final, lovit de imaginea puternică încep să mă întreb: oare tuta (căci inocența ei a dispărut) a citit vre-o dată istorie? Apoi îmi dau seama că domnișoarei (căci nu e vina ei), i-a fost distrusă rațiunea de către caracatița imensă ce a cuprins și ultimul nenorocit de sat. Îmi dau seama că nu e vina ei că nu știe ce crime a făcut Che, în numele unui ideal cretin, pe care l-a numit delibarat și pentru a aduce speranțe deșarte oamenilor, libertate. Îmi dau seama că nu e vina ei
că nu știe câte vieți au fost distruse pentru a se instaura, mai apoi, nu libertatea, ci un comunism crâncen, asemănător cu al nostru. Îmi dau seama că nu e vina ei
că nu știe câți oameni trăiesc (și o fac cu greu) la limita de jos, asta mulțumită "ajutorului" lui Che. Oare știe ce înseamnă să fii mamă și să îți pierzi copilul, care nici nu a atins majoratul?
Da, sunt îngrozit că singurul ideal interzis este cel nazist. Cum rămâne, oameni buni, cu comunismul? Cu el ne-a fost bine? Cu el ne este bine? Trebuie numai să deschidem ochii, să ne dăm seama că este vorba despre același tip de regim, numit altfel fiindcă era nevoie de o copie de siguranță, în caz că se descoperea adevăratul scop al ideologiei.
Azi se pregătește un furt al manifestațiilor, după același tertip ca cel din '89. Oamenii au ajuns să nu mai lupte pentru a schimba modul infectat de corupție care ar trebui să unească națiunea, dar au ajuns să lupte pentru ca aceiași băieți dubioși, sub alt nume, să le ia viitorul, al lor și al celor ce va să vie.
Da, sunt îngrozit că singurul ideal interzis este cel nazist. Cum rămâne, oameni buni, cu comunismul? Cu el ne-a fost bine? Cu el ne este bine? Trebuie numai să deschidem ochii, să ne dăm seama că este vorba despre același tip de regim, numit altfel fiindcă era nevoie de o copie de siguranță, în caz că se descoperea adevăratul scop al ideologiei.
Azi se pregătește un furt al manifestațiilor, după același tertip ca cel din '89. Oamenii au ajuns să nu mai lupte pentru a schimba modul infectat de corupție care ar trebui să unească națiunea, dar au ajuns să lupte pentru ca aceiași băieți dubioși, sub alt nume, să le ia viitorul, al lor și al celor ce va să vie.
Dar, de se vor scula, pre mulți au să popească și ei!
18 ian. 2012
Starry (K)night
I'm fighting for my soul,
Through the veil of darkness I see
The prince he promised to be...
But where am I now...lost in despair...
Waiting for a knight...bloody hell...
My legacy, twinkle star,
I'm gonna see my future in the moon above...
Through the veil of darkness I see
The prince he promised to be...
But where am I now...lost in despair...
Waiting for a knight...bloody hell...
My legacy, twinkle star,
I'm gonna see my future in the moon above...
Începutul
Cu mare fală Vermillion, Alexu-chan și Veliki anunță deschiderea blogului "Atenție! Cad idei...". Sperăm să vă facem să citiți cu plăcere publicațiile noastre.
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