Archive for March, 2012


Azi

Azi vreau s-o iau razna.

Dacă nu m-ar opri nimic, azi mi-aș face părul albastru, două tatuaje, aș arunca telefonul și laptopul definitiv, mi-aș cumpăra 20 rochii de vară, mi-aș arunca toți pantofii pe care-i am și m-aș urca în mașină să plec la mare.

Acolo mi-aș uda tatuajele în apa mării, mi-aș usca părul în briză și mi-aș murdări rochiile în nisip. And i would love every single bit of it!

Azi vreau s-o iau razna.

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I trust love will get me there

…and then she went like this:

The music’s not good without you, baby, the music’s not good at all!…

The chocolate is not enough.

The ice cream is too cold.

The tears are too dry.

This body is way too weak.

The brain, thoughts and mind are just too strong.

I’m too tired.

I’m simple and simply me. The music won’t help, the chocolate won’t heal, the ice cream won’t numb, the tears won’t wash, the body won’t stand, the brain damages me. I’m tired, but all i have left is me.

I hate this age of mobile phones, of social-networking platforms and of high-speed technology. Before, we had plenty of time to be with ourselves, to really get to know our inner being, to closely listen to our hearts’ songs, whispers and laments, to learn the steps of our bodies’ rhythm, to feel the vibes of our souls.

Now, we are running desperately towards whatever gives us the chance to splash our feelings out loud. We’re attention-seeking whores, always looking for a good deal. We transform people around us in customers of our drama, and the phone/computer is our personal dealer, opening the way towards quite a show!…

We lose our ground to some extent, and then, all we want is to get it back. We lose stability, and we crave for it. We lose security, and we become desperate. We lose safety and we feel vulnerable, bare-headed, rooted to the ground, in the rifle-area of each feeling, that has transformed itself into a menacing weapon.

So we want to heal that, to heal ourselves. We look for millstones to grip ourselves onto, for anchors to prevent us from drifting away from the safe shore, for columns of stability to built our trust around, for a comforting roof to catch our breath under and often, it is a saviour that we are looking for, in its whole greatness.

But this is not what we truly are. We are not these weak leaves, recklessly blown by some relentless wind. We came to believe this is who we must be: if we have a phone, we have the mean to contact a friend and complaint for hours, so we do it, just because it’s possible. If we have an internet connection, we let out feelings flow in statuses, blog posts, vlogings, likes, shares and comments, just because it’s at a click’s reach. We hardly stand for something, so we tend to fall for anything….

We let impulses take over ourselves, we change our state of mind drastically from one song in our playlist to another and we change attitude from one argument to another, in a talk we’re having with a friend. We fluctuate dreadfully whilst desperately trying to find our ground and hold onto it.

And i’m doing the exact thing right now. I am fully aware of it.

I forgot. I forgot and i want to remember. I forgot how it is not to have a phone with thousands of minutes i can use to say nothing. I forgot how it is not to have this white box in front of my eyes all day long, asking me ‘What’s on your mind?’, ‘What are you doing?’ and other things alike. I forgot how it is not to postpone sorting out my feelings with such ease, just because i can ‘call you later’, ‘save this as a draft and finish it afterwards’ or ‘get in touch with you as soon as i reach a computer’. I forgot how it is not to feel immortal, just because the era of speed gives me the chance to grow cheeky about the issue.

I forgot how it is to spend an entire day with no one else but myself, hearing nothing more but my own thoughts, feeling nothing else but my true feelings, carving in this emotional body i have, polishing it and re-discovering myself over and over and over again, after each thought, breath and sigh i have lived for only myself. I forgot how it is to truly feel the value of a moment, the weight of a minute, the blessing of an hour or the wonder of an entire day spent with me.

I forgot how it is not to hurry, but to deepen my thoughts. I forgot how it is not to speed the healing of a love wound, but to totally understand the process of its creation – first, to take knowledge of its presence there – afterwards, and to carefully remove the dust specks that make it more painful – before attempting to apply a plaster on it. I forgot how it is to feel heavy and unwavering as a millstone on my own, tall as a column all by myself, steady like a safe roof just by standing on both feet – my own hero, my own saviour.

Because that’s what i really am: the safety, the peace and the love within. I don’t really need your phones, your computers, your music, your chocolate, your ice cream, your drama, your speeches, your calculations, your risk-evaluations, your pre-conceived ideas. You taught me i needed them, you made me believe i needed them, you wanted me to need them, but fuck you, i don’t need them!!

I am this beautiful, powerful, loving human being, who remembers not having these pieces of shit and being happier, acting with more confidence, feeling safer, making better decisions after thinking about them thoroughly in the most sincere manner possible, deeply acknowledging her feelings by spending an intense, great deal of time in their company.

So yeah, as much as you taught me to like them, i must say it again: The music won’t help, the chocolate won’t heal, the ice cream won’t numb, the tears won’t wash, the body won’t stand, the brain damages me. I’m tired, and all i have is me. 

I know that me. That true, within and underneath-it-all me. And i’m gonna go down searching for it and be sure i’m not coming back until i find it. And i will find it! Cause it’s all i truly ever had, all along. I cannot allow burring that true me for the sake of what i’ve been told me is.

So there. I’m simple and simply me. And i trust love will get me there.

Be. Shine. Love

moto: Același soare care topește gheața, întărește noroiul.

 

Era o situație înghețată, într-un fel. Eram un soare latent. O știam, dar n-o știam cu adevărat. Simțeam că am un miez mai mult decât vulcanic, dar mai puțin decât cosmic. Câteva scântei de carbit și m-a aprins.

Bucată cu bucată, suprafața scoarței mele a trecut ușor prin pară și foc, s-a purificat și a căzut, lăsându-mă curată de orice limitare. Epidermă, dermă, miez. Cromosferă, fotosferă, nucleu – focul a pătruns peste tot, lumina s-a reaprins, iar odată cu ea și umbrele.

Trebuie să recunosc, la un moment dat chiar credeam că o să te am. Complet, egoist, total și pentru totdeauna – da, așa. Nu, nu mă înțelege greșit, nu mă bucuram pentru conul de umbră pe care-l trăiai. Nici nu vroiam ca el să se transforme în întuneric. Dar trebuie să recunosc că aș fi vrut EU să luminez acolo!…

Și până la urmă chiar asta am făcut. Ce căi surprinzătoare are viața!… E ca în Univers: știi, Soarele nu se gândește la toate reacțiile pe care le declanșează pe Pământ, cum nici Pământul nu se gândește dacă Soarele va mai fi acolo, după fiecare rotire. Și totuși, câte minuni se întâmplă, spirală după spirală, fără voia sau intenția lor!…

Nu m-am gândit cum o să fiu; am fost doar. Sunt. Îmi doream, ce-i drept, să răspândesc lumină, să fie doar lumină. Dar nu sunt singură; și Soarele e însoțit de planete și… milioane de alte particule celeste. Așa că voi crea umbre. La asta nu mă așteptam.

Sentimentele sunt ok; dar sunte erori în program, nu? „Îmi doream”, „nu mă așteptam”… Un soare nu-și dorește, nu se așteaptă, nu gândește, nu îi pasă, nu analizeaază, nu pregătește, nu se scuză, pentru că nu greșește. Un soare este.

Așa că dacă mi-am dorit și am așteptat, trebuia să aflu că un soare nu face asta. Trebuia să primesc o lecție, un „la loc, drepți!”, o mână caldă pe umăr, o sărutare de la Univers și o scânteie în plus.

În rândul jocurilor optice, trebuie să recunosc că așa cum ești oglindă, eu trebuie că sunt umbră. [paradoxal, știu. nici eu nu înțeleg încă, dar așa simt acum.] Așa că acolo unde am vrut să fac loc luminii mele, am înlăturat umbra aceea, am reaprins orizontul și am gâdilat un Soare să se ridice din nou.

Șiret, acest Univers, și totuși atât de splendid și de rafinat incât nu mă pot supăra pe el!… Sunt ceea ce sunt și trebuie să învăț să iubesc asta la fel de necondiționat ca orice altceva. Așa că trăiesc această lecție. Un Soare poartă cu sine atâtea binecuvântări. Necondiționate, negândite, necalculate. Și spune tu, n-ar fi păcat să-și concentreze razele într-un singur punct? Știm ce s-ar întâmpla atunci…

Acum învăț bucuria de a fi ceea ce sunt, conștientizez efectele pe care le pot creea și renunț să le judec. Totul are un scop perfect, dar el trebuie lăsat să se desfășoare, la fel de natural cum Soarele continuă să lumineze și Pământul continuă să se rotească.

 

The song is always the same

Same place. Same seats, same room, people don’t even matter. Same bartender, same waitress, same whatsoever. Same or different – in the end, i’m telling you: it doesn’t. even. matter.

Put your headphones on, close the white book, unplug the brain from the game. You’re the song. You’re each note of it, the rhythm, the measure, the beat. The space, time and spirit in it. Remember that. Now let’s follow.

You were dancing over the mellow steps of a tune whispered by some vague entity. You were guessing you had your own score and you wanted it out. You were searching for a way to get it through the thick sackcloth of the game. But you were guessing.

Still, you were searching. That was your first ingredient towards freedom. That’s how you stepped out of the crowd. You claimed your space, your true attitude, your ONE energy. You sparkled.

That was the first sign you were ready to receive your weapons. You were almost mastering yourself [or at least that’s what you thought] but once you got your instruments, the game flipped, the score changed its rhythm, the notes changed their term, you changed DNA. You became your weapons, extended.

Weeks, days, hours, every 3 minutes later you were reinventing yourself. You were having the perfect mirror, the perfect teacher, the perfect context, the perfect space, the Time, but most of all, you had the perfect substance: YourSelf.

You’ve been having that all along: you’ve been having those notes, those beats, those terms, some rhythm, but the score was floating, carelessly sprawling among the elements of this Universe. You needed discipline.

Cut. The master comes when the disciple is ready. And when he comes, his lessons are bitter, his methods rough, his words tough and his presence powerful. But you need that.

So now you’re becoming your weapons and they become your allies. It’s time. Close the white book, unplug your brain from the game. Feel your sword, know your gun, touch your trigger but don’t pull it. Don’t even bother attempting to write this score down. Everything you’ve been thought before gets cut out now. This is not a score to write. This is a score to feel, to touch, to smell, to breathe, to experiment, to live. Don’t ever write a single damn note down. Just feel, touch, smell, breathe, experiment, live, PLAY it!

The score is the complex instrument that you have now, but YOU are THE SONG. And songs… real songs… Real songs are not written, they are not timed, they are not recorded. Such a waste of time, these actions… Real songs ARE. They just are. They are splinters from and in the core of this Universe. They are PURE LOVE and there’s nothing more to add to that. Because you should have already known this by now: Love itself just IS.

Now go out in the Universe and PLAY, babe. PLAY!