May your heart’s desire
translate into life.
May the thoughts of the mind
bring peace of mind.
May your life be better
than your dreams of it.
Ceaţa
Vremea nu e o coincidenţă.N-a fost niciodată. E o ciudată simbioză intre soare şi starea de spirit.La fel cum ceaţa îneacă, te lasă fără suflare.Îţi intră în nări, în urechi,în ochi.Îţi inundă celulele şi le strânge până pocnesc ca artificiile.Curge în corp, cum curge şi sângele,dar cenuşiu şi greu ca plumbul.Corpul carcasă se mişca orb şi ritmic în ceaţa lăptoasă,în sunetul minutelor care trec.Se apropie Anul Nou.
On fog
Weather is never a coincidence. ‘s never been. There’s a strange symbiosis between the sun and the state of the mind .Much the same way, the fog chokes, leaves you drowning. It enters the nostrils, the ears, flooding the eyes. It floods the cells and tightens them until they pop like firework. Flowing like blood, but gray and hard as lead. The carcass body moves rhythmically, blind in the milky mist, in the sound of passing minutes.Minutes to New Year .
seara
las uşa descuiată.
(Ioan Matiut,”Fuga din urmă” )
Since you took the trouble to find me…
“If I believe in soul-mates?But of course I do! We are broken pieces of a two pieced puzzle.It’s just that…the world is so big and …we are so many…So I believe that one lifetime is simply not enough to find that soul-mate.So we wander,obstinately,and try on random pieces,like the women in the Cinderella story trying on shoes,to see if they fit.Even the part when they cut off toes and pretend they fit…We leave a bloody trace behind,with all our unfitting chances taken,until the hair grows white and hope grows withered.On separate roads, like railway tracks…and meeting is postponed to another lifetime.Yes,maybe there are soul-mates,somewhere out there…It’s all about the time it takes to find them and the number of lives we get…But I do know one thing: when the right two pieces fit,it makes such a terrible noise inside,that it will be impossible not to know it had finally happened.”
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Necuvintele lui sunt negandurile mele...
The art of becoming hinges on being self aware and sometimes, it's painful.
Functioning on coffee, workouts and cabin life energy. I read and write in the mountains.