Archive for the ‘Momente de gandire’ Category
Regulile tatalui ei
11
Jan
Cand barbatul devine tata – si mai mult, cand barbatul devine tata al unei fetite – ceva se intampla. Nu mai e ca inainte. Inainte putea fi cel mai simpatic om de pe planeta, cel mai pasnic si intelegator care nu ar fi putut omori nici macar o musca. Dar cand rationalizeaza faptul ca din samanta sa a dat nastere unei noi vieti feminine… “protectiv” ar fi un cuvant mult prea bland pentru a descrie starea care il cuprinde. Am putea spune ca devine obsesiv in privinta sigurantei scumpei si angelicei sale fiice. Nimic nu are voie sa i se intample ingerasului, nimeni nu are voie sa o raneasca si mai ca ar trebui chiar mama sa ii ceara lui permisiune pentru a o lua in brate.
Stiu ca se spune ca tatii ar avea o relatie mai stransa cu fiii lor, acestia din urma putand invata multe lectii de viata de la cineva mai intelept, dar va pot spune din experienta ca nu asa stau lucrurile. De ce? Pentru ca, in ochii barbatilor, dupa ce impartasesc cunostintele lor unei noi generatii, acestia – adica fiii – ar trebui sa isi poata purta singuri de grija. Altfel, cum ar putea sa aiba grija de propria lor familie intr-o buna zi?
Cu fiicele e altfel. Fetele sunt mai plapande, mai nesigure, mai naive decat baietii. Ele au nevoie sa fie protejate mai mult, nu impinse in lumea mare. (Da, stiu ca lucrurile nu ar trebui sa mai fie asa si exista, intr-adevar, exceptii si ca ar trebui sa existe egalitate intre sexe… dar, in mare parte, cam asa stau lucrurile.) Inca din copilarie, rolurile sunt standard: fetele sunt printese, baietii sunt soldati; fetele se joaca cu papusi, baietii cu masini; fetele invata sa gateasca de la mame, baietii invata sa foloseasca ustensilele mecanice pentru a construi diverse de la tati. Fiica este mandria unui tata. Ea reprezinta tot ce e mai frumos si delicat in lume. Ea este lumina ochilor lui, care nu greseste, care nu il dezamageste si careia i se fac toate poftele.
Desi un tata poate fi un mielusel in preajma fiicei sale, el devine un leu feroce care sufla flacari pe nari in momentul in care simte ca ingerasul sau este in pericol. De asemenea, conexiunea fiind atat de stransa intre cei doi, tatal poate deveni extrem de gelos cand simte ca in viata fiicei sale a intrat un alt mascul. Atunci este cu adevarat periculos. Mai ales daca masculul in cauza a ranit-o, in orice fel, pe fiica. (Cand un tata, politist criminalist, 1.80 m inaltime si solid iti spune ‘Daca te mai prind la usa casei mele, te omor.’ ar fi de preferat sa nu iti incerci norocul si a doua oara.) Noul mascul, care nu a avut ocazia sa invete de la cei dinaintea lui cum sa se comporte cu tatal prietenei lui – in termeni de jargon – a cam pus-o.
Asa ca au fost create cateva reguli.
REGULILE TATALUI EI
Regula nr. 1: Daca vii cu masina in fata casei si claxonezi ar fi bine sa aduci cu tine ceva… orice. Ca de aici, sigur nu vei pleca cu nimic.
Regula nr. 2: Nu o atingi pe fiica-mea in prezenta mea. Poti sa te uiti fugitiv, atata timp cat nu ti se blocheaza ochii la nimic mai jos de gat. Daca nu-ti poti pastra ochii si mainile departe de trupul fiicei mele, ti le voi indeparta.
Regula nr. 3: Imi dau seama ca este considerat “cool” pentru baietii de varsta ta sa-si poarte pantalonii largi incat pica de pe ei. Te rog sa n-o iei ca pe o insulta dar tu si prietenii tai sunteti idioti.
Totusi, vreau sa fiu deschis in legatura cu acest subiect, asa ca-ti propun un compromis. Poti veni in fata usii cu lenjeria intima la vedere si cu pantalonii avand 10 numere mai mari; nu voi obiecta. Totusi, pentru a ma asigura ca hainele nu cad de pe tine, iti voi lega pantalonii cu un cablu electric in jurul taliei.
Regula nr. 4: Sunt sigur ca ai auzit ca in ziua de azi sexul fara protectie te poate ucide. Lasa-ma sa intru mai in detalii si sa-ti spun ca si sexul cu protectie poate ucide. In cazul de fata, daca vine vorba de sex, eu sunt protectia.
Regula nr. 5: Este de inteles ca pentru a ne cunoaste mai bine, de obicei se discuta despre sport, politica si alte subiecte ale zile. Te rog sa n-o faci. Singura informatie de care am nevoie de la tine este o indicatie cu privire la ora de intoarcere, iar singurul cuvant de care am nevoie este “devreme”.
Regula nr. 6: Nu am indoieli ca esti probabil un baiat cunoscut, cu multe alte oportunitati de a iesi cu alte fete. Este OK din partea mea daca este in ordine si cu fiica mea. In alta ordine de idei, odata ce iesi cu mica mea fiica, vei continua sa te intalnesti doar cu ea pana se satura de tine. Daca o faci sa planga, te voi face si eu sa plangi.
Regula nr. 7: Cat timp stai pe hol si o astepti pe fiica mea sa coboare, chiar daca trece mai mult de o ora, sa nu te prind cascand sau facand gesturi nervoase. Daca vrei sa ajungi la timp la film, ar trebui sa te lasi de intalniri. Fiica mea are nevoie de timp pentru a se machia, un proces ce poate dura mai mult decat vopsirea unui pod. In loc sa stai acolo degeaba, de ce nu incerci sa faci ceva util, cum ar fi sa-mi schimbi uleiul la masina ?
Regula nr. 8: Urmatoarele locuri nu sunt potrivite pentru fiica mea :
* Locuri unde sunt paturi, canapele sau orice altceva mai moale decat un scaun de lemn
* Locuri unde nu sunt prezenti parinti, politisti sau orice figura autoritara
* Locuri intunecate
* Locuri unde se danseaza, oamenii se simt bine si se tin de mana
* Locuri unde temperatura este destul de ridicata incat s-o faca pe fiica mea sa poarte pantaloni scurti, fuste scurte, tricouri sau orice altceva decat pulover, bluze lungi pe gat si pantaloni
* Filmele cu o puternica tema romantica sau sexuala sunt interzise. Filmele ce prezinta violenta sau unde apare cel putin un ferastrau sunt in ordine.
* Meciurile de fotbal sau hokey sunt in ordine
* Casa parintilor e si mai bine
Regula nr. 9: Sa nu ma minti. S-ar putea sa par a fi un parinte chel, terminat de viata, obosit si cu capul in nori, dar cand e vorba de fiica mea eu sunt atotstiutorul, zeu fara mila al intregului univers. Daca te intreb unde mergi si cu cine, ai o singura sansa sa-mi spui adevarul, tot adevarul si numai adevarul. Am o pusca, o lopata si 3 hectare de pamant in spatele casei. Nu te juca cu mine.
Regula nr. 10: Sa-ti fie frica. Sa-ti fie foarte frica. E foarte usor pentru mine sa mi se para ca sunetul masinii tale pe alee e motor de elicopter de razboi. Cand asta se intampla, vocile din cap imi spun din ce in ce mai obsedant sa-mi curat armele in timp ce te astept sa-mi aduci fiica in casa.
Imediat ce ajungi in fata casei vei iesi din masina cu ambele maini la vedere. Spui parola si anunti ca mi-ai adus fata acasa in siguranta si mai devreme decat ieri, apoi te intorci inapoi in masina (nu este nici un motiv pentru care ai intra in casa). Figura camuflata de la fereastra este a mea.
Goodbye, my almost-lover
16
Dec
Clouds were rolling in. Menacingly dark clouds that turned day into dusk. The air was thick, humid and too warm to make breathing comfortable. As the sound of thunder began to be heard from far away, sounding the approach of the storm, the wind began to blow.
I was roaming the streets, unprepared for what was to come, frantically searching – searching for what I had lost long ago, for that which would make my life whole, for the only thing that was missing in my life. I had caught a glimpse of what I was searching – of it, of him – turning a corner and I followed.
The wind was tugging at me, its force having increased. I knew what would come, but ventured forward stubbornly. If I found it, everything would be fine. If I had it, I could endure any hardship. And so, I turned the corner after my quarry and came into a promenade, flanked on both sides by old-styled buildings. There used to be terraces up and down this street, but not anymore – they had been taken down, the tables, chairs and umbrellas undoubtedly placed in storage until better weather came to the metropolis. People were running all around, hurrying to get to shelter before the storm broke and the heavens opened.
But no sign of what I was searching for.
My heart sank, not knowing where to go and continue my search, not knowing how to ask people for information. I knew it was over. I knew I had lost it. I knew I had lost him.
I believed I had found you, Love, waiting for me and only me. Instead, I had to run to get out of the rain that had started pouring. And, shivering beneath a building’s ledge, I cried.
I had believed that it was finally time for the rest and the security I have wished so long for. I had believed… yet I had been wrong. It had probably not even been you, Love, who I had followed. Yet again you have forsaken me and left me to walk my path alone, in my despair and misery.
“Love, where are you?” I asked, watching the empty streets soaked in rain. “How can I find you and taste the sweetness of your lips?”
Once, long ago, I too believed in fairytales with happy endings. I too used to dream of princesses in far-away lands and knights in shinning armor. And in Prince Charming. My Prince Charming. I used to dream that one day it would happen to me, that I would find that special person meant just for me and finally have my happily-ever-after.
Alas, such naïve thoughts have no place in my heart and mind anymore. I grew up. I went through many things – good and bad. And I became more realistic. Love like the one I have fantasized about is so rare that, statistically, I will never experience it. Yes, I may fall in love, but it will never be returned to me with the same intensity.
Each time I fall in love, it becomes weaker than the last because, with each new break-up, my heart retreats a bit more inside my shell for protection. It is in pieces after all the lies and pain it has had to endure throughout the years. My hope that it may be possible will never die, yet I fear that I will become so cautious that I will allow the right man for me to slip through my fingers without knowing it and without offering him a chance.
Or perhaps I was not even meant to be happy in love…
Thus, I return to the world I created in my imagination, where I never have to pretend or wear masks, where I can never be hurt or used. There I can truly be myself, I can love whomever I choose, I can be loved to the fullest extent and just how I have always imagined. There I am accepted for who I am. There friends do not stab me in the back and the man I love never leaves to find someone else.
There I am happy…
Alcohol consumption
24
Nov
I have been facing controversies for a number of months now and a lot of missed opinions. And why? Because I enjoy the occasional glass of alcohol from time to time.
I started writing this because I grew annoyed and felt the need to get something straight with all of you. I am NOT an alcoholic and I have NEVER gotten drunk past the point of slight dizziness. However, it would appear that even this is seen as taboo for women in our society. Elders look on it as not being ‘ladylike’ behavior, whereas the youth become annoyed and judgmental if they cannot take advantage of that state of slight inebriation.
Whatever some might believe, I do not drink to drown my sorrow or anger. I drink because a glass of red wine when I am writing, drawing or working photos on my computer makes me feel as though I am part of a different time and I become inspired. I do not run away from responsibilities in a glass of alcohol. I merely postpone them for when my mood has improved.
I drink when I am out with my friends because a cocktail loosens the tongue of problems which need to be discussed and frees the spirit of frustrations. I drink when I am with my family because a small cup of visinata after a hearty home-cooked meal has become something close to ritual. I drink because it gives me the courage sometimes to continue on my path, regardless of how hard it is to endure or how painful it is. I drink because I want to show people I know how to have a good time and still be responsible. I drink because sometimes it reminds me of better times when I had been with the people I love.
I do not see what people are so worried about or enraged with. Alcohol is not a bad thing. On the contrary. Red wine, for example, has been proven to be of much help to the heart and the circulatory system. Take it from me – alcohol, in itself, is not that much of a bad thing. It is we humans who give it negative connotations… when we see what it does to people who are not able to drink responsibly.
Try to remember that the next time you want to judge me. Because, of course, you merely see what I show at a time and that is never the entire story.
5 moves women love in bed (but can be too afraid to ask for)
27
Oct
Whenever I have the flu or have to stay home for who knows which reason, I end up cruising the net for various interesting articles and so on. Came across the following one when I realized it had been quite awhile since I last visited Cracked.com.
I read it and realized that these 5 little things were oh-so-true for about 70% of all women, maybe even more. I’m sure as hell they’re true for me.
Enjoy!
“I’ve never been afraid to ask for what I want in bed. I guess because during my teenage years I figured out I was/am a perv and I just owned it. But in my decade-plus of hooking up with dudes, I’ve come to see being clear about what I want is a bit rare: Guys have told me other women become self-conscious when asking for something risqué or kinky. So, I’m going to help you out, boys. Here are some things your lady might want, but she’s too self-conscious to ask for. Don’t pressure anything, of course — but if you offer, you may be pleasantly surprised at how enthusiastically she accepts …
1. She wants you to eat her out more: Our culture has a weird relationship with vag, if you haven’t noticed. Your lady has likely been exposed to a lot of lame-o messages telling her that her vag is “too hairy,” “too smelly,” “tastes gross,” “ugly,” etc. She might really love getting oral sex, but she’s afraid to ask you to do it because she’s afraid you’ve internalized the same messages that she has.
How to ask: It’s time to start sincerely praising her lady parts big time: “Your p**sy is so pretty!” “I love the way your vagina looks.” “I love the way your p**sy tastes.” “I love hearing you moan while I eat you out!” And so on. (If she is offended by the word “p**sy,” obviously you should say something different.) If she is still skittish about being eaten out, don’t push it. Offer to give a massage all over her inner thighs and on the outer folds of her labia; keep offering to do this, and keep praising her vag, until she mellows out. And if she never does, hey, maybe she’s just not into oral sex!
2. She wants to fool around in public: Let me be clear: Having full-on sex in public might be a little too risqué — not to mention messy — for some women, myself included. But that doesn’t mean a lady wouldn’t love a heavy-duty make-out session at that banquet in the far corner of the bar, the backseat of her car, or on her front steps!
How to ask: Download the Kelis song “In Public” — the chorus goes “Let’s get it on in public” — and when it plays, ask your girl if she thinks it’s sexy.
3. She wants to be dominated: Even big-mouthed ballsy women like me enjoy being dominated! Yet dominating a woman scares a lot of men because they are afraid — rightfully so — of being rape-y. But with tons of trust and communication, she’ll be creaming her panties in no time! You just need to take baby steps and constantly read her body language to make sure she’s comfortable, both physically and emotionally. I want to emphasize the importance of baby steps: If you’re going to play around with domination, it’s never a good idea to start off with anything that might hurt her feelings or humiliate her, i.e., barking orders at her (“Go down on me NOW!”) or name-calling (“Slut!”). Playing around with restraints — loose restraints, of course — is definitely a better way to go.
How to ask: Start simple. Really simple. “Would you like it if I blindfolded you the next time I go down on you?” If she likes that, next time ask, “Would you like it if I loosely tied your wrists to the bedposts?” If she likes that, next time ask, “Would you like it if I held down your arms while I lick your breasts?” If she likes that, the two of you can figure out what else she might like. It’s also a good idea to create a “safe word,” which is something she can say when she wants you to stop immediately. (Sometimes in the heat of the moment people say “Oh, noooo!” when they really mean “Oh, that feels good!” So it’s good if your safe word is something other than “no.”) My safe word is this sentence: “I want you to stop now.” Because it makes my intentions clear.
4. She wants you to be the submissive one: Getting dominated might not be her thing, but she might want to dominate you. Yes, even if she’s the meek and shy one! Speaking from a lady’s point of view, it can be awkward to tell a guy you want to dominate him because it’s hard to ascertain which guys will think it’s too emasculating. (I am not saying a man getting dominated has to be emasculating; some guys just perceive it that way.) But if you think your woman might get her rocks off by playing the sex goddess, you getting dominated is worth bringing up.
How to ask: Does your lady ever ride cowgirl? If that’s your favorite move — and in my experience, for a lot of guys, it is — tell her that you just LOVE her in control. Then suggest the same things that I recommended under the “She wants to be dominated” section — say you want her to give you a BJ while you’re blindfolded, then with your wrists tied to the bed post, etc. If she finds her inner domination queen, you’re a lucky guy!
5. She wants to be spanked: Lightly spanking a woman (i.e., nothing that could cause a bruise) can feel amazing for both of you: I’ve heard lots of women say that getting spanked sends lots of tingly feelings to their vaginal and anal areas and I’ve heard lots of men say spanking a woman makes them feel like they are physically demonstrating their lust. I’ve been pretty open about my own enjoyment with getting spanked and, I promise you, lots of women really like it. Unfortunately, asking to be spanked can be embarrassing for a woman because, well, it is sort of silly!
How to ask: Just like when you’re asking a woman if she wants to be dominated, the key is to take baby steps. While you’re making out, touch her ass a lot; squeeze it, rub it; show her you think her booty is a-maz-ing. Whisper in her ear, “Can I give you a little spank?” If she says yes, do it once, softly. Ask, “Do you like that?” If she says yes or even if she’s ambivalent, ask if you can do it a few more times, all the while kissing her and still squeezing and rubbing her ass. Then you should probably stop. Next time you guys are cuddling, bring up how you liked giving her little spanks and ask if she wants to try it again sometime. If she’s receptive, ask her if she wants you to do it harder or if she’d like to lie in your lap while you spank her. One more thing: my advice about dominating a woman is the same here, too. Do not call her names or humiliate her unless she tells you that’s what she wants. For all you know, she has issues left over from childhood about being physically punished and calling her a “bad girl” might be upsetting. The same goes for women who might have had abusive relationships in the past: Even if your woman really likes getting spanked, it’s important to remember that spanking is still hitting and you need to make it 100 percent absolutely clear that you’re only doing it in the context of sexual arousal. Understood? Now go get it on.
Help me, Frisky-verse: What other things do women love to try in bed that we’re sometimes too self-conscious to ask for?”
P.S.: When I find the male version of this article, I’ll post that as well. Until then… sorry, guys!
Attraction
30
Sep
Have you ever felt so in to someone that the very presence of them around you can make you forget all your problems? That by just the sound of their voice they can mesmerize you? That you can lose yourself in their eyes every time? That their touch can make you feel the most amazing sensations? That the thought of them makes you want to better yourself and grow into the kind of person they could love?
Have you ever wanted someone so badly that you always imagine the two of you in various circumstances and doing various activities? Like going for walks in the park or taking pictures, laughing together, going to the movies and holding hands? Like helping each other in each other’s work, making everything sound easy and making up new games? Like painting the town red going from club to club or from bar to bar? Like imagining how you would make love to them for hours and how it would feel waking up next to them the following morning?
Have you ever felt all that? You must have at least once. It’s that feeling that gives you butterflies in your stomach, that makes you blush when you see them, that arouses you at every physical touch.
You can call it madness. You can call it innocence or naivety. You can blame it on pheromones or chemistry. You can call it whatever you wish but the feeling remains the same.
It isn’t love. Love requires more from us to exist. It is infatuation. It is attraction. It is a burning desire. It is your body compelling you to be closer to him or her. It is a chemical reaction, reminiscent of our primal selves, filling our brain with endorphins and dopamine (the pleasure hormone and, respectively, the addiction).
And the feeling of infatuation does not disappear when you are away from the object of your infatuation. You feel the need for the drug again. You feel the need to be with them again.
Then you’re with them, unable to contain your desire, your lust for them. Your hands begin to touch, discovering each other’s bodies and what areas are more arousing than others, stirring up each other’s passion. Your lips begin to kiss, fingernails digging into flesh, breaths mingle together frantically and you want more and more and more…
This is the most dangerous. Infatuation is very dangerous through one simple fact: it is an excessive need. Of course, living in the moment and doing only what you have wanted for days, weeks or more is not wrong… but you must learn to control it. In the haze caused by their pheromones and your own brain squirting out hormones, you can overlook vital pieces of information that may spell your own doom. You may forget that the one you are attracted to is a complex person – just like you – with dreams, fears, joys and sorrows.
If you are feeling that right now, I only have one piece of advice for you: stop and think for a bit first.
Why? Because infatuation and first impressions are one thing… but compatibility, understanding and trust are a completely different problem.
NOTA BENE: Please excuse the use of the pronoun for the third person plural in indicating “him” or “her” (third person singular). I understand it may have puzzled some readers… but it was easier writing one word to denote that person instead of three.
Analogie si realitate
30
Aug
Orasule pe care te iubesc, mi-ai fost camin atata amar de vreme, atatia ani in care am descoperit cine sunt. Mi-ai fost gazda, prieten, calauza, inger si calau, binecuvantare si blestem. Ai fost martor inaltarii mele si caderii in gunoi, la fericirile si necazurile mele, precum o fantoma muta miscandu-se in zbor in jurul meu, cautand cel mai bun unghi pentru lovitura de gratie.
Si l-ai gasit!
Am venit la tine inca o copila naiva, abia desprinsa din sanul familiei si de prispa casei parintesti, abia incepandu-si drumul in viata, abia descoperindu-se ca o tanara femeie – am venit clocotind de un caleidoscop de vise, asteptari, dorinte si frica, sperand ca in tine si la tine voi descoperi tot ceea ce aveam nevoie pentru a fi fericita. Am venit la tine, orasul meu ciudat, ca sa invat, sa experimentez, sa ma gasesc pe mine insami.
Dar am gasit in tine, orasule al tuturor calatorilor, numai o fatada de frumusete si un miez fierbinte de putreziciune si perversitate imposibil de imaginat in capitalele mari ale Europei. Cat de mult te-au schimbat toti cei care ti-au calcat pragul, fiecare lasandu-si amprenta asupra constiintei tale ca mai apoi tu sa ma marchezi pe mine prin ceea ce ai devenit. In sanul tau am invatat ce grea e viata, in imbratisarea ta am aflat ce rece poate fi dragostea; am invatat importanta unui grup mic de prieteni adevarati; am invatat sa iubesc, sa mint, sa ma lupt si sa pierd.
Orasul meu ticalos, m-ai amagit cu promisiuni goale si mici bucurii ca mai apoi sa ma cobori in noroiul adus in fiecare an de Dambovita ce iti trece prin vene. Mi-ai rupt aripile in zbor si m-ai obligat sa invat sa ma tarasc. Mi i-ai indepartat pe cei ce ii tineam aproape de suflet si mi-ai ucis iubirea. Din cauza ta am lipsit la evenimente importante, la inmormantari… Nu am gasit in tine norocul de care aveam nevoie nici in viata profesionala, nici in cea sentimentala si mult prea putin in relationarile mele interumane. Nu ai stiut sa ma ajuti asa cum i-ai ajutat pe altii; nu ai stiut sa ma asculti, obligandu-ma sa ma inchid iarasi in mine, repetandu-mi copilaria. Mi-ai scos in cale numai barbati nepotriviti iar in fata celor potriviti nu ai fost destul de marinimos incat sa ma dezlegi de ghinionul ce il trimiteai constant in dreapta mea.
Asa ca plec, orasul meu iubit, te las in urma si…
Si atat.
Dar, o! orasule, de ai fi avut curajul sa imi ceri sa raman…!
Incomplete
23
Jul
I’ve tried, I admit.
And I’ve tried very hard. But I just couldn’t do it.
I can write about almost anything. I can write about almost anyone. Unfortunately for me, you’re part of this ‘almost’ category. I can’t fathom why. Anything I write is silly and scattered, too few words and… always incomplete.
Ever since I met you. It’s been this way ever since we met, so long ago, at the metro station. Anytime I try to write or even say what you mean to me… my mind stops thinking and only my heart works to let me know what feelings it holds for you; and, as you may well know, the heart is not very rational – it simply feels.
I may never be able to tell you what I feel for you… and I may never be able to show you either, considering the circumstances. I’m sorry for hesitating for so long. I’m sorry for being afraid.
But if ever things change… let me know… All you have to do is remember the sea shells I gave you…
…
The fact, however, is this: I do not appreciate you disappearing like you so much seem to like to do. It hurts me when you do it because I hold you in high regard – because I care for you very much. You made me feel safe around you and confident enough to be myself – something I don’t normally feel around most of the people I know. I miss you… and I miss talking to you…
Scrisoare de ramas-bun
17
Jul
Poate ca, undeva adanc, inca mai aveam o frantura de speranta… inca mai atarnam de posibilitatea ca nu avea sa se sfarseasca povestea noastra. Dar am realizat ca speranta aceea era doar gaura neagra din urma mortii unei stele: intunecata, inimaginabil de mica… si lucrul care avea sa ma distruga daca mai continuam sa o hranesc.
Undeva adanc pastram acea speranta ca putem fi impreuna si ca putem invinge orice. Mai adanc, insa, se afla gandul si adevarul ca se terminase, ca nu mai exista nici un viitor… cel putin nu cu tine. Descoperind asta in propria-mi persoana, intelegand ca am fost orbita de dragostea mea pentru tine, m-a salvat.
Toate semnele fusesera acolo: modul in care imi planificam viitorul, in care vorbeam despre tine, in care interactionam cu altii… Incepusem deja sa construiesc zidul ce va taia, intr-o buna zi, orice sentiment nutrit pentru tine. Inca il mai ridic, chiar si acum, dar a fost destul de rezistent sa ma protejeze si sa nu ma lase inghitita de inima-mi franta cand mi-ai spus ce decizie luasei. Am fost furioasa atunci pe tine, ca nu ai avut curajul si respectul sa imi dai vestea intre patru ochi. Inca mai sunt furioasa, dar nu voi plange pentru tine. Sunt mai puternica si mai tare ca oricand. Sunt, in sfarsit, iarasi eu! Iar tu nu imi meriti lacrimile.
M-am indragostit de tine din primul moment. Ti-am oferit inima mea foarte timpuriu iar asta mi-a fost greseala fatala. Naivitatea mea mi-a dat impresia ca pot avea incredere completa in tine. Mi-ai demonstrat insa, iar si iar, ca acea incredere era prosteasca si gresita. Mi-ai frant inima de mai multe ori. M-ai abandonat atunci cand am avut cel mai mult nevoie de dragostea ta si asta pentru ca nu ai putut sa ma accepti asa cum eram… asa cum sunt.
Intr-un fel, te compatimesc din punctul acesta de vedere. Nu vei stii cum e sa iubesti pe cineva cu toata inima ta, fara retineri, indiferent de ceea ce se poate intampla. Nu exista persoana perfecta pe lumea asta, pana la urma. Cu totii te-au parasit pentru ca ai dorit intotdeauna sa primesti mai mult decat ofereai; fie ca stiai, fie ca nu. Predai conceptele reciprocitatii dar nici macar tu nu poti trai dupa propriile-ti invataturi. Ti-am oferit totul, intreaga mea viata era la picioarele tale iar tu nu mi-ai oferit decat o mica parte din a ta.
Momentul nu a fost niciodata cel potrivit. Cu tine era intotdeauna prea tarziu.
Si intotdeauna va fi… indiferent pe cine ai la brat.
Te-am iubit cu toata inima mea si ma inaltam tot mai sus de fiecare data cand imi suneai ca si tu ma iubesti… doar ca mai apoi sa cad in genunchi de durere si tristete. Singurul drum pe care il mai pot lua acum este in sus. Am redescoperit cine sunt si ce sunt in stare sa fac, sa simt si sa traiesc. Dar nu gratie tie, ci a unor oameni carora sunt mandra sa le spun ‘prieteni’. Sunt putini, dar sunt adevarati. De la ei am primit dragostea si sprijinul neconditionate, chiar si cand aveau ei insisi probleme. Nu m-au criticat si nu m-au lasat fara sfaturi sau o vorba buna, ci m-au ajutat sa imi gasesc propriul drum. O, cate lucruri ar fi fost diferite daca si tu ai fi putut face la fel…
Astazi incep o noua viata, una in care tu nu existi. Chiar si dupa toate minciunile tale si toate modalitatile in care mi-ai gresit, te voi pastra in inima mea. Ai fost dragostea vietii mele si voi tine minte tot ce am invatat alaturi de tine. Imi vei lipsi mult timp si ma va durea sa nu pot fi langa tine, dar viata merge inainte. Ma asteapta alte aventuri, alte situatii, alte imprejurari si alti oameni.
Luandu-mi manusile si iesind pe usa, lasandu-te pe tine in urma, voi pastra o singura amintire: …acea fotografie albastra cu noi… pentru ca doar atunci cerul dragostei noastre a fost senin.
Si astfel… Ramas-bun!
Acest capitol s-a inchis.
Pasarea Colibri – Scrisoare de bun ramas
Iubito cata lume intre noi,
Numaratori de ploi din doi in doi
Si dintr-un ochi de dor necunoscut,
Cate zapezi pe buze ne-au crescut
Asculta-ma si lasa-ma sa strig,
Mi-e frica de-ntamplare si mi-e frig
Si nu mai vreau sa stiu pan` la sfarsit
Cine-a iubit frumos cine-a gresit
Cine-a iubit cine-a gresit?
Cine-a facut spre noapte primul pas
Cine-a plecat din joc cine-a ramas
Cine si-a smuls peretii rand pe rand
Cine s-a intors mereu cu ziua in gand
Cine-a pierdut cine-a castigat
De toate-nlantuit sau dezlegat
Cine-a crezut mai mult in celalalt
Sub cerul prea strain sau prea inalt
Sub cerul prea strain si-nalt
Iubito cata lume intre noi
Numaratori de ploi din doi in doi
Si dintr-un ochi de dor necunoscut
Cate zapezi pe buze ne-au crescut
Cand n-am sa uit cum suna glasul tau
Decat tacerea ce-mi va fi mai rau
Si cum sa pot sub stele innopta
Cand nu mai simt ce-nseamna umbra ta
Nu simt ce-nseamna umbra ta
Iubito cata lume intre noi
Numaratori de ploi din doi in doi
Si dintr-un ochi de dor necunoscut
Cate zapezi pe buze ne-au crescut
Ascullta-ma si lasa-ma sa strig
Mi-e frica de-ntamplare si mi-e frig
Si nu mai vreau sa stiu pan’ la sfarsit
Cine-a iubit frumos cine-a gresit,
Cine-a iubit cine-a gresit
Numaratori de ploi de doi in doi
Iubito cata lume intre noi
Numaratori de ploi de doi in doi
Iubito cata lume intre noi
O programa deprimanta
12
Jul
In ultimele zile m-am vazut nevoita sa caut diverse motive pentru a-mi stampila un zambet pe chip (prietenii stiu de ce) si am ajuns intr-un final, din nou, pe blogul Daily Cotcodac.
Si, frunzarind prin paginile electronice, am gasit un mic post ce se leaga de deprimanta literatura romana. Nu ma credeti? Ete ce zice Ovidiu Eftimie:
“Vazand ca in Romania nivelul de deprimare a atins cote inimaginabile, sondajele aratand ca minimum 3 din 2 romani sunt deprimati, am decis, precum legendarul mini-ziarist Ion Cristoiu, sa ma refugiez in biblioteca. Am zis s-o iau usor, cu biblioteca scolara.
Am vrut sa inteleg de ce poporul acesta este atat de deprimat. Am aflat. De vina e programa scolara.
Stiti cum se termina “La Vulturi”? Deprimant, nu? Dar poeziile lui Eminescu, va par vesele? Cand nu e suparat ca l-a lasat gagica, e trist ca tara asta e de cacat. Pe vremuri era asa misto, acum e nasol rau. Arghezi, vicecampionul national la poezie, scria din puscarii si umbla cu testamente.
Ce poezii se mai predau la scoala? Mama denaturata a lui Stefan cel Mare, care nu-si lasa fiul sa intre in castel si sa-si trateze ranile. Voiculescu – despre cum ii cerea indurare Iisus lui Tac-su în gradina Getsemani, stiind ca urmeaza sa fie batut in cuie. Soarta grea a taranilor care vor pamant. Si Bacovia, pentru elevii mai emo.
Sa parasim putin taramul poeziei si sa vedem literatura de dragoste. Asta se imparte in doua mari categorii: sotii care te inseala (“Ultima noapte de dragoste, intaia noapte de razboi”) sau gagici care in loc sa umble cu tanarul sarac prefera sa si-o traga cu batranul bogat (“Enigma lu’ piti Otilia”)
Chiar si la Caragiale avem numai corupti, tampiti sau curve. Si asta macar se preface vesel. Nu mai zic de Slavici, Rebreanu (crime, violuri, batai, tradari) sau Sadoveanu, din care la scoala se invata “Baltagul”, o poveste despre o femeie care isi cauta sotul mort, gaseste criminalul si-l ucide cu cainii.
In fine, cam asta a trebuit sa invete generatia mea in liceu. In conditiile astea, stau si ma minunez cum naiba de nu mi-am taiat venele imediat ce am luat BAC-ul. Sau cum naiba de nu m-am apucat de baut.“
Adevarul e ca… omul are dreptate. Deprimant…