To the glass and beyond

Tot de la Alex care nu e din Elirie

Ascult muzica. Incerc sa ies din starea in care eram sigur ca voi ajunge. Acea euforie ma intrista oricum pentru ca realizam ca se va termina. De ce nu putem fi intr-o stare euforica tot timpul? Dar poate ca asa, am incepe sa o percepem ca pe o stare negativa. Si pana la urma, poti spune de o prajitura ca e cea mai delicioasa dupa ce le-ai gustat pe celelalte...

Totusi, sunt sigur ca pot face ceva ca sa evit aceste perioade in care ma simt atat de mediocru si scarbit de atitudinea mea cu privire la toate lucrurile pe care le fac sau as putea sa le fac. De ce esti asa superficial, Alex?! Pentru ca da, urasc sa am zile cand nu fac altceva decat sa ma holbez la pagina de facebook pana ma ia somnul, in timp ce ma gandesc ca as putea face ceva pentru dezvoltarea mea personala. Stiu, sunt frustrat si nu este indeajuns. Dar scriind asta, incep sa cred mai mult in schimbarea mea. Defapt, nu-i pot spune “schimbare” pentru ca acele lucruri pe care le doresc sunt la locul lor, prafuite sau ambalate, asteptand sa fie folosite. Pare un text care numai literar nu este? Pai cine a zis ca vreau sa fie. Sunt gandurile unui om frustrat, si daca toate gandurile ar trebuie sa fie pline de figuri de stil, ei bine atunci suntem pierduti.

Mai exista ceva ce reprezinta o cauza pentru starile astea. Vi s-a intamplat vreodata sa vi se implanteze ideea ca trebuie sa fiti cumva si totusi, sa va simtiti total altfel? Sa fiti impinsi spre un traseu predefinit si sa realizati in timp ce il parcurgeti  ca nu va doriti asta si vreti sa iesiti din decor? Refuz sa urmez calea care pe mine m-ar transforma intr-un sclav al societatii. Bineinteles, pot oricand sa ma inchid in universul infinit pe care il detin, dar vreau asta? Nu, pentru ca vreau sa impart experientele mele cu ceilalti, cu cei care tin la mine si la care tin. Vreau sa sa impart totul cu toti cei care ma accepta, pentru ca da, locul omului e printre oameni. Dar cum sa fac asta fara sa ma ranesc din nou? Par egoist? Ei bine, cand sti ca va trebui sa dai explicatii pe care oricum ti le-ai dat tie de nenumarate ori, cand sti ca vei fi judecat desi prin aceasi judecata te-ai trecut singur pentru a ajunge la persoana actuala, de care esti mandru... de ce as face-o?  De ce sa ma justific in fata lor? Asa-i ca par las? Ei bine sunt mai putin las decat o majoritate cu creierele spalate. Si ce e mai trist e ca si le spala singuri...

Voi fi bine!:)

                                                                                                     Alex

De la Alex care nu e din Elirie

Elirie doarme, impreuna cu toti piticii de sub pat, trista soprana goala, padurea de pini muti si Balthazar. La fel si cel care imi trimite din cand in cand cate o cioara cu vreo veste, sau mai bine zis poveste. De ce ciori? Pai intrebati-l pe George Martin. Datorita lui am renuntat la serviciile porumbeilor care oricum par mai potriviti in farfurie. Si asa, devin eu un inamic al campaniilor de salvare a romanticilor "sobolani cu aripi". Cel putin eu sunt constient de "romantica" materie fecala si nu numai pe care aceste fiinte "inteligente" si "manierate" o "daruiesc" pervazurilor ferestrelor celor care vor sa-i salveze de la moarte prin infometare. (vezi cazul colegei mele de apartament). Din fericire, si populatia de pisici vagaboante trebuie sa manance haha. Asa ca nu pot fi suparat pe colega mea de apartament. De ce? Pentru ca, datorita ei, zburatoarele cu pricina, devin atat de grase incat fac infarct in timpul zborului si le cad pisicilor in gura. Parca  aud deja o fetita urland de spaima, ca si coloana sonora la acest filmulet dragut cu porumbei. Sau sa fie o fata care acum realizeaza ca a ucis din culpa?
Lasand zburatoarele la o parte, voi trece la subiectul responsabil de aceasta postare. Copiii africani!heheh'. Stiu, am facut si mai fac multe glume pe tema asta si in continuare cred ca exista in Romania situatii mai mult sau mai putin similare cu cele de pe continentul negru. Dar totusi, sa incerci sa ajuti acolo unde poti si unde conteaza, iti ofera un sentiment de apartenenta la ceva. Asa ca azi, am ajutat(cel putin teoretic) cu un like si o poza hehehe. Stati linistiti, nu vor fi hraniti cu asta. Cel putin nu cu like-uri hehehe'. Bineinteles, raman sceptic in ceea ce priveste factorul "non-profit" si multe campanii mi se par adevarate spalari de creiere in masa (in cazul unor "mase" nu prea exista material de spalat).
Daca v-am trezit spiritul umanitar... http://www.facebook.com/WeDay

                                                                                              Alex.
                                                                                                         
                                                                                                           

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I could start(again) with “It’s been a while” but I won’t. I mean I’ve promised something to myself so I can’t just press the replay button over and over again. The last time I was here, 2011 was still on. A holy child was born  and the “apocalyptical” year has come. So I guess I need some “apocalyptical” 2012 resolution. Actually I dare to say it’s an “apocalyptical” fact: my time outside the tennis court WILL COME TO AN END this year ! My rivals will bend the knee or I will destroy them!:)) Fuck that! I will destroy them anyway hehehe’

What do I wish for you in 2012? Too many or maybe too little. Or maybe it doesn’t matter. So I just wish you will find at least one thing you’ve lost. It’s always a nice feeling, isn’t it?

I would have written more but I have to catch some naughty dwarfs doing skateboarding under my bed, thinking I’m too focused on typing to even notice them. I still have the corner of my eye, little pricks!

Meanwhile,  here’s a nice poem as a “laters” ( not into reading it? listen to the song under)

“Love

 I see a slow, simple youngster by a busy street, with a begging bowl in his shaking hand.

 Trying to smile but hurting infinitely. Nobody notices.

 I do, but walk by.

 An old man gets naked and kisses a model-doll in his attic.

 It's half-light and he's in tears.

 When he finally comes his eyes are cascading.

 I see a beaten dog in a pungent alley. He tries to bite me.

 All pride has left his wild drooling eyes.

 I wish I had my leg to spare.

 A mother visits her son, smiles to him through the bars.

 She's never loved him more.

 An obese girl enters an elevator with me.

 All dressed up fancy, a green butterfly on her neck.

 Terribly sweet perfume deafens me.

 She's going to dinner alone.

 That makes her even more beautiful.

 I see a model's face on a brick wall.

 A statue of porcelain perfection beside a violent city kill.

 A city that worships flesh.

 The 1st thing I ever heard was a wandering man telling his story

 It was you, the grass under my bare feet

 The campfire in the dead of the night

 The heavenly black of sky and sea

 It was us

 Roaming the rainy roads, combing the gilded beaches

 Waking up to a new gallery of wonders every morn

 Bathing in places no-one's seen before

 Shipwrecked on some matt-painted island

 Clad in nothing but the surf - beauty's finest robe

 Beyond all mortality we are, swinging in the breath of nature

 In early air of the dawn of life

 A sight to silence the heavens

 I want to travel where life travels, following its permanent lead

 Where the air tastes like snow music

 Where grass smells like fresh-born Eden

 I would pass no man, no stranger, no tragedy or rapture

 I would bathe in a world of sensation

 Love, Goodness, and Simplicity

 ( While violated and imprisoned by technology )

 The thought of my family's graves was the only moment I used to experience true love

 That love remains infinite, as I'll never be the man my father is

 How can you "just be yourself" when you don't know who you are?

 Stop saying "I know how you feel"

 How could anyone know how another feels?

 Who am I to judge a priest, beggar, whore, politician, wrongdoer?

 I am, you are, all of them already

 Dear child, stop working, go play

 Forget every rule

 There's no fear in a dream

 "Is there a village inside this snowflake?"

 - a child asked me

 "What's the color of our lullaby?"

 I've never been so close to truth as then

 I touched its silver lining

 Death is the winner in any war

 Nothing noble in dying for your religion

 For your country

 For ideology, for faith

 For another man, yes

 Paper is dead without words

 Ink idle without a poem

 All the world dead without stories

 Without love and disarming beauty

 Careless realism costs souls

 Ever seen the Lord smile?

 All the care for the world made Beautiful a sad man?

 Why do we still carry a device of torture around our necks?

 Oh, how rotten your pre-apocalypse is

 All you bible-black fools living over nightmare ground

 I see all those empty cradles and wonder

 If man will ever change

 I, too, wish to be a decent manboy but all I am

 Is smoke and mirrors

 Still given everything, may I be deserving

 And there forever remains that change from G to Em””