stângaci

miroase-a mâna-maicii-domnului
și-a nopți de vară de mult pierdute

pe-atunci timpul nu fugea așa repede
și orele erau mai colorate,
fericirea se clădea și ea mai ușor
cu sărutări stângace
furate sub cireșii dați în pârg

totul era stângaci pe-atunci
dar parcă râdeam cu toată inima
și ne supăram doar în joacă
așa, ca să ne cumpărăm iertarea
cu guma turbo și dulceață de nuci

Standstill

some while ago I was trying to pinpoint the exact moment when time started flowing so fast
i could barely remember how it was like before the ouroboros of deadlines,
the rash decisions and
the constant white noise headache.

and i know i wanted it back
the standstill
the near catatonic slow down of time
and then it happened

i inhaled and by the time i took my next breath a lifetime had passed,
history ran its course,
worlds died and were rebuilt

i remember the pain
spreading like wildfire
as my lungs were contracting
desperately reaching for the next gasp

i remember people screaming
but i couldn't make any sense of it
in all that rumbling noise
of collapsing atoms

there it was:
time stood still
in between the spark and the flame,
in the IV drip,
between the verse and the chorus,
trapped in the after-candles.

and then the world just kept on spinning...

;)

we give and take.
it's a never ending cycle
that keeps us stuck on each other
in the best way possible.

this is how it works:
first, she cleared some space
in her pink feathery living room
and in her mornings
for his black drum kit.
now, he cluttered her day
with gifts and all his love
and that smile of hers
made it all worth it.

down the rabbit hole

can you not feel it?
curiosity nudging you to take a peak,
to search for answers
even behind closed doors...
especially there.

I have this weird thing
when I look at a door:
I can't help but be curious of what's inside.
who lives there?
how is it decorated?
are the rooms flooded with light
or do they hide in the shadow of their curtains?

I think you figured that out about me
and you left your door unlocked on purpose.
you knew I couldn't stand not knowing
what's behind the brick wall
so you left the hallway light on.
all I had to do was follow and sneak inside.
it was the best ride down the rabbit hole
with all those corridors twisting and turning
weaving in and out into endless loops,
wonders hidden behind every corner.
I got lost a couple of times
but I felt so at home that it didn't matter.

shared purple

do you think she's got courage?
I know that it might not seem like it
if you're looking through the same old dusty lens
that limited so many others.

oh, but she does.
to lay herself on paper like that
all in, no take backs
almost naked...
but for the fragile purple dreams covering her soul.

it takes guts
and half an ounce of madness
to dissect your inner world
and neatly display it for public viewing.

and you...
yes you, the purple dream keeper.
you rock!

whimsical

i know this chick
she's something special
and maybe she doesn't hear it enough
or she doesn't listen close enough
'cause she should know this already.

she's one of those people
that for some reason just stick with you
like cotton candy.
she's whimsical
and silly in the best way,
maybe a bit naive and unasuming
and possibly too quiet-spoken.
but she is also fiercely determined
and boy, she is smart!
she's got that old soul vibe,
the hunger for knowledge
that you can't fake.

yeah, she's young and impacient
and she makes mistakes
but she learns and grows with them.

child, trust yourself with the hard choices.
somewhere beneath the surface
burried under rules, fears and conventions
beats a strong heart.
trust it.

Pareri personale:You're Next

What started as "Meh... lots of crappy horror movies out there why not add one more to the list?!?" turned into 95 minutes of pure genius, gore packed, entertaining and very satisfying ride. By the end of it all my dark little soul was doing back flips.

Inceputul ofera toate elementele necesare unui film cliseu:
* o casa de vacanta la dracu'n praznic unde esti vecin cu padurea;
* o reuniune de familie cu ceva bani si complexe freudiene. Mama - alcoolica in recuperare (e ok daca aude voci si sunete ciudate, n-o mai baga nimeni in seama), tatal - strutul cu capul in nisip (dispus sa treaca oricand cu vederea problemele evidente ale tuturor din familie in speranta ca daca nu vorbeste despre ele, poate nu exista), Drake - the oldest and the bully (ala care stie el mai bine decat toti cei pe care-si varsa frustrarea pentru ca are un mariaj de rahat), Crispian - the second child and the academic (asta e profesorul sarac care si-o trage cu studentele lui), Felix - the youngest and the rebel (asta n-o sa se maturizeze niciodata, da' familia inca mai spera) si Aimee - singura fata din familie (vrea si ea sa fie observata pentru ca poate face totul la fel de bine ca baietii);
* o gasca de criminali psihopati cu masti, topoare, arbalete si tot arsenalul.

Te uiti la adunatura asta, iei in calcul si matrasirea brutala a vecinului (singurul vecin pe o raza de 'enspe kilometri) infaptuita cu o seara inainte si deja stii ce-o sa se intample si cum: o sa moara toti in chinuri, unul cate unul, ca niste caprioare in lumina farurilor. 1-0 pentru criminalii psihopati.

De murit, mor astia pe capete, dar la capitolul victime se adauga si psihopatii, casapiti fiind de o floare de fata aparent inocenta. Aparent...

Reuniunea familiei include si sotiile/ iubitele/ iubitii copiilor adunati acasa de promisiunea unui week-end relaxant. Printre ei se gaseste si  Erin iubita lui Crispian (si da, este o fosta studenta) care e asa sweet and unassuming, singura care se ofera s-o ajute pe mama soacra in bucatarie, pe scurt, genul ala de fata pe care o duci acasa s-o prezinti parintilor. Numa uita-te la ea cat ii de scumpa.

Aceasta fiinta angelica si copilaroasa are si ea un secret: her daddy was a prepper. Un nene de-ala care e absolut sigur ca aceasta lume se va duce dracului dintr-un motiv sau altul (colaps economic, criza resurselor, you name it) iar daca vrei sa supravietuiesti trebuie sa stii sa te descurci in salbaticie cu ce-ai la indemana, adica sa faci din rahat bici. Bai, nu stiu ce-a invatat-o asta pe fiica-sa dar bate tipa psihopatii cu ciocanul de snitele de l-ar face si pe master chef gelos de asa dexteritate. Fata asta nu omoara, ea dirijeaza simfonii. Fata asta este un izvor nesecat de idei cand vine vorba de capcane. E sora mai mica a lui MacGyver care reuseste sa transforme orice obiect intr-o arma letala (da, in cazul in care te intrebai: te-ar ucide si cu elasticul de la chiloti). I love her!

Si asta e doar primul plot twist din multele executate cu maiestrie. Acum sa nu va ganditi ca n-are si filmul asta prostii lui si fazele alea de te fac sa tipi "WTF is wrong with you people?!?!?", dar cumva merg in contextul setat. De exemplu: psihopatul o omoara pe mamica si lasa ditamai iataganul infipt in ea (asa, ca in combinatie cu scrisul insangerat de pe perete sa fie de mare efect terifiant). Prostii satului o gasesc pe mamica (plansete, zbierete, denial, smuls parul din cap), o acopera cu un cearceaf si-o mai bocesc o tura, dar din toti cretinii adunati in jurul ei absolut nici unul nu se gandeste sa ia maceta ca sa aiba o arma cu care sa se apere. Si daca te gandesti ca ii asteapta o moarte nasoala si insangerata parca nu te mai deranjeaza asa atare pentru ca oricum o sa te simti razbunat cand o sa urle in chinuri cu ceva topor infipt atat de adanc in taratacuta incat le fuzioneaza creierul cu podeaua.

Acestea fiind spuse, luati de va uitati ca sa va incantati retina si sa imblanziti animalul din voi (bestia aia care ar calca vreo 2-3 concetateni pe cap inainte de micul dejun si-ar mai tortura vreo 2 in pauza de pranz - Si nu va mai mintiti ca voi n-aveti asa ceva si ca sunteti integrati in absolut, ca nu va crede nimeni). And girls, you'll thank me after this one since you're all gonna wanna be her when you grow up. ;)

un om şi o vioară

aici timpul este sonor.
acum, nu mai are valoare.
se întinde, se dilată, devine fluid,
alunecă prin cameră şi te îmbraţişează,
te învăluie ca un secret şoptit sfios la ureche

şi tu îl laşi...

te laşi în voia lui
şi te bucuri de călătorie.

niciodată stelele n-au părut mai aproape,
niciodată n-ai vizitat atâtea lumi necunoscute,
niciodată nu ţi-ai lăsat sufletul atât de expus,
niciodată n-ai uitat aşa de tine,
niciodată instinctul n-a cucerit raţiunea,
niciodată nu te-ai simţit atemporală,
niciodată n-ai rămas fără cuvinte,
niciodată, niciodată, niciodată...


îmi amintesc ce gust are marea,
ce culoare au amintirile,
câţi fluturi încap într-un vis...

fluturi,
toţi suntem fluturi orbitând haotic aceeaşi flacără:
un om şi o vioară.

just the 2 of us

it's bizarre, this influence you have over me
even though we're miles away:
celestial bodies orbiting each other
following unseen rules
inexplicable to anybody else
but making perfect sense for us,
guiding our chaotic push and pull.
it's not even weird anymore
how you're there
without me calling you out loud:
two halfs of the same whole
lucky enough to find each other
in an universe of mismatched parts.
useless to say but:
slap me back to reality
if I ever take it for granted.

not alone

when life hits
it hits hard:
closed up fists,
broken wrists,
shaterred guard.

cuts might heal,
scars remain:
broken feel,
shattered will,
closed up pain.

human hearts,
fragile things:
shattered shards,
closed up scars,
broken strings.

through it all
you have friends:
make the call,
break the fall,
let them help.

Two sides of a coin

I'd judge you by my image...
but even though we're cut from the same cloth
we're different measures:
I'm latte with 2 sugars while you're black coffee.
I see the fault and act to correct it
while you give out second chances and try to heal it
but we'd both do whatever it takes for friends.
As you raise your voice
I lower mine
but we both know
we could easily scream the windows into pieces.
You'll hold my hand while I get my tattoo
and I'll walk the aisles with you to buy a book,
for though they don't appear the same
they're both pieces of art.
And as you fall
we'd first laugh
and then I'd pick you up,
because you need to make fun of yourself
every once in a while;
as I'd encourage you to make your own mistakes...
how else would you learn otherwise?
Bottom line: I'm glad we're different
but not fundamentally so,
because arguing with myself all the time
would be god damn boring!

I heard that

I heard you the first time you petulant prick
but chose to ignore you and the sheer load of bullshit
escaping your mouth.
you're talking the talk but the walking falls short
and to lead by example means to put in the work,
the sweat and the time and above all
to forget about "mine" and start thinking "all",
"ours" or simply "the team".
to give you a hint: they're the ones solving stuff
while you're living the dream.
so spare me the drama and the fountain of crap,
spare me the sob story that's about to be spat
with the same mean mean world
and the poor puddy cat
who should have and could have everything in it's grasp
but waited for it to magically fall on it's lap.

decât atât

1000 de vorbe un ban nu fac...
n-aș ști ce să-ți spun
fără să reciclez
aceleași rahaturi penibile și leșinate.
m-ar deprima să le zic,
te-ar enerva să le-asculți
și nu vreau să te jignesc
compatimindu-te.

n-am oricum nevoie de atâtea cuvinte
să-ncerc să-ți explic,
ți-s suficiente astea să mă-nțelegi.

decât atât:
"YOU IS SMART,
YOU IS KIND,
YOU IS IMPORTANT!"