Sunt normal,

Fiziologic vorbind,

și mental.

Tu mă minți

Atunci când spui ”te iubesc”

și mă alinți.

Nu suport,

dar totuși e ok, suntem...

de acord?

Nu, că

tu m-ai părăsit și nu pot

decât să...

Să nimic,

Ce am pierdut e

un amic!

Un amic,

un prieten, nu cea pe care s-o

fi iubit.

Să pleci,

și pe mine numai în coșmar

să mă vezi.

When you give up on remembrance
And the gods forget our vengeance
And loves flame slowly fades away
Darkness shall light our way.

Darkness and silence as He predicted,
And my soul is evermore addicted...
And this new world rises
And there are no more dices.

It is darkness, and silence and no charms
Just me and my aching arms.
And you...as memory of a past world
And hope that nothing will ever hurt.

How immensely fucked up can a human life get? The constant strain of life and death, both undeniebly present in any given existence, and none can be defined. And of course the concept of love; some say love is not enough, I say, believe and think, that love is enough if the lovers are only preoccupied by love itself and exclude the factors that this wretched and wile world supplies them with. But maybe I`ll elaborate another time. This time it`s about the other two.

The one that is constantly looming, and the other which is reoccurring all the time. And mostly that sadistic pleasure which is called parenting. Parents love their children, most of the time, and this we can refer to as a fact. But why? I think it`s their selfcentredness. Every soul has uncertainties, equations that cannot be solved, stuff that cannot be sorted, and when the infant arrives, the parents realize that they have obtained a thing which is perfectly dependant on them. And that calms them down, reassures them; gives that new kick-start to their life, a reason to fight, go on and further similar ideas. One of such ideas is hope: of a better future, a better world. And each new-born with it`s purity and infinite potential is expected to obtain that. Does anyone now of a case of success? Because I don`t think I do. Hence the sadism.

And this leads us to my other subject. Death. The magnific, the one spell that instantly solves the problems of this world, and of other worlds I have no knowledge. Have you ever sat besides a dying person? I did. I felt the turmoil, the will to live and still the sublime presence of something beyond description. A thing which will certainly have the last word in any argument. And that unconscious desire to yield to the subtelty of it. And finally doing so.

And now, at the end, I have no idea whatsoever why did I write this. But it felt good. I hope you`ll like it.

Since I`m committed on Facebook

This is the last one that I write while still in love with you.

That is a promise that will never do

Maybe I will not write again

But something new began...

I began to construct a new world,

A world of wonders unheard,

And it keeps falling apart

And i can`t think of anything smart.

You, Love, were the joint that kept me running

And no matter what I`ll be doing

You will be part of or equal to

MY LIFE

Wide-awake

George, the middle aged, middle-class, middle height, middle everything man realized that he was sleeping up till now. He was living his life in a dream. A dream he thought true. And now as he thought it through he indeed agrees with himself upon many things. But he knows now that it is futile because it is all a lie. It is, not was because he will go on like nothing have happened. The most rational course of action.

She may have left, she could have stayed, she should have stayed. But she left. She was far too bright to realize that it is a mistake. George is in pain. Now, disillusioned, doubting she ever loved him he just lays and watches a point in the ceiling. That point defines him best. It cannot be seen by anyone else, but him. It is a point out of many. Just one point, a mere nothing which is a whole universe of flourishing dreams, feelings, sighs and touches. He vowed never to be with her again. Even if this meant crushing and crunching his soul to tiny shreds.

His foresight was very good indeed. She came back a month later. She realized that he was the one secure point in her life, that one point which ensured happiness. The only being able to touch her soul. And he said no. He said no and forbid her to commit suicide. Because he said so she did not do it. His world was turned upside down. He just threw away the only thing he truly desired. That he wanted. He wanted her with every cell of his being, but he vowed to say no. He sensed that he should not do that, but did it ever matter? No...it didn`t matter this time either. He just did it. And gone back to being a ruin. That was her punishment. To know that he is a ruin because of her. He knew very well that this is balance. That this is the cornerstone of the world, and that he helped the world go around. He also knew that their love would have lasted even if the axis of this world broke.

But the show must go on.

Szeretem hajadnak gyonyoru, lagy eseset,

S szemed gyonged,artatlan szenvedeset

Insomnia II

He glanced at the last molecule of smoke which had risen from his cigarette. He knocks the ash of a lot and stares at the cinder hoping it will reflect in his eyes. He wants fire in his eyes. Desire that consumes. Stumps the cigarette. Looks at her and sees nothing. This nothing is everything he isn`t and everything he desires. But still it is nothing and he precisely knows this. And lets the conversation slowly pass away into eternal silences of a few seconds. Lights another cigarette. Stares at the cinder. Looks at her. His reminiscent side is long lost and he is fresh out of feelings. He froze from the inside out. And nothing is haunting him. I beg your pardon, the nothing is haunting him. That is exactly why he swore not to have feelings. Not to love.

This awkward meeting never happened in reality. It is a part of his subconscience, a play in his head. An eternally reoccuring play. Infinitely sad and true. Thus he lights yet another cigarette alone as he has always been. Looks at the mirror. Goes out for a walk hoping to get this play out of his head. By far the worst idea he has ever had. It would have been better to stay at home mate. Out there in the buzzing world you will feel even greater solitude and you will know not who to blame. Why is it that you know with every fiber of your being that it ought to be someone out there to touch your soul? To break the ice. And still you can`t find that person. You just constantly dress up people and situations for a grand lie, an endless fancy-dress party, in which they come and feel what you feel within the intimacy of your own being. Lies, lies, lies.

Outside. No buzz, but a dead city. He avoided the crowds. He avoided any possible human contact. Then why, for the love of god, did you leave the safe heaven of your home, your protective shell? Sits on the riverbank. Lights yet another cigarette. Looks at his reflection in the water. The discontinuous image fascinates him. He always considered that his pulsating reflection in the window of the passing tram or bus is nothing else but his image from the perspective of others. They care, stop caring than they care again. But this reflection...ohh this is different. This is what he longs for. And this is what he thinks about while staring at the cinder. He longs for someone to care. At any given moment. Someone. Someone...

Temporal insanity. A passing moment of eternal value in which the human is in contact with the divine. This moment passed. Passed long ago. When he had that last kiss.

Inside. The day has passed. He goes to bed. Sleeps. And in his dreams he is staring at a mirror and sees fire in his eyes. And in his dreams he has quit smoking.

Insomnia

As I cannot sleep and everybody in my vicinity is doing that I write. I listen to faithless and write. I wanted to do so all day long. And to be sincere never wanted to find the time to. I wished that all these thoughts will go away...drift away in silence as a neglected sons coffin rolls out of a family`s life. But it haunts me(wouldn`t really care if it would let me sleep).Hell here it comes.

There is a promise one can`t ever break. A promise of love. If you truly love someone in your childhood, teenage years or even as an adult it will last till your last breath. I`ve seen this countless times. As a child I noticed that some ladies have an odd way of looking at my father. I did not know then why had they been so kind, and loving. Because of love. And there is even more to it. I saw that very same look quite a few times when I was with my grandfather. After sixty years or so those ladies have "the look" and he has "the look" and they chit-chat about daily nothings, doesn`t matter...it really does not because they have "the look". And even if one sometimes says nasty things, and detests the other, if love really existed the as the years pass "the look" shall make its appearance and thus the promise is kept. Not in wild tear-off-my-clothes way. But in a much much more subtle, refined and LASTING way. "the look"

P.S.: I love you

I hope I can sleep now...