Monday, February 28, 2011

cautam sa alegem drumul cel mai bun. si nu neaparat cel mai drept. incercam sa decidem rational iar cateodata nu se poate. the mind says no. but the heart says go go. we ignore one or another.sometimes they say the same. we're happy. it's nothing to stop us. we can dive happily into the consequences of our decisions. most likely it's not like that. it's a double decision. what to do. and who to listen to. and once again we see a matrix defining the thousands of rounds we can take, we can chose, thousands that diseappear the next second we chose.

what roads are you going to kill?

make me.happy

Friday, February 11, 2011


The day I looked at stars wasn't anything special. I was just minding my own business, thinking about money, sex and stuff, when it happend. I was blinded for a second and everything stopped, just to start again, rejuvenated. It came as a memory of a moment in time, long ago.

I was sitting in my bed in the middle of that first real spring day when everything ended. She has just left and I deleted her number from my phone, canceling her existence. I was not sad, but numb.

The sun coming thru the blinds was lines of burning fire, tattooing my wall. From under the covers I could see the dust lighting up and dissapearing as it flew chaotically throughout the sun captured in my room. Everything else was quiet until a fly came out of nowhere and started to buzz around the room. I followed it with my eyes on the couch, then on the monitor. It just stood there, contemplating the surface in a way I never cared.
That's when I threw the pillow at it. I wanted it moving, alive, not another petriefed object in my room. The monitor fell on the floor seemingly cracking from the noise it made. I didn't care, I was following the fly on its path when something wonderous happend. It went into the sun, immediately illuminated as it burned, as it transformed into something miraculous: a firefly. Then, after what seemed like minutes, it landed near my bed, on the table. I looked at its body, now the milky black of a normal fly and wondered where all its magic dissapeared and why is it so easy to lose it all.

I slowly took my book and in one fast, final motion, crushed the insect. It left a disgusting stain on the brown wood of the table as a testament of its existence. I had to kill it, it just didn't deserve to exist anymore as it was.

That day the stars showed me what I could be, if only I could see more, if only I tried more. I knew right then that I had to get home fast, and do what was only right. I now could see myself in my true colours. And I was ugly.