I can’t die. Not anymore. I used to … I used to die a lot … it seems so long ago though. I suppose I should be glad … dying is a bad thing, right? You’re not supposed to want to die. Well I don’t really know if I want to. It’s just that it’s weird that I haven’t died for such a long time. And I had some things that should have made me die. Not too many, ok … but still. Much more insignificant things used to make me die. I guess I kinda miss it … in a way … I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t read so much in to it. Fuck it … I’ll die some day … and I’m not really looking forward to it. Not because of the dying itself but rather because of the reason that will make me die. And it will have to be a fucking good reason by the looks of it. Why the fuck am I writing this anyway …
corectii pulii mele
mda … corectitudine morala … toti stim ce e corect, ce e bine. Cel putin cei care ajung sa citeasca asta ar trebui. Si mai mult ne laudam si ne facem sa credem chiar si pe noi ca le respectam. Ca noi suntem corecti, buni, impartiali, pula mea. Cat rahat totusi. Cati dintre noi chiar respectam chestiile pe care le stim drept bune. Si nu ma refer la standardele sociale, religioase sau mai stiu eu ce. Ma rfer chiar la standardele la care chipurile ne raportam. Personale. Pe care le incalcam zilnic. Standarde in care credem si pe care le folosim ca scuza, ca argument. Pe ele ne bazam cand ne credem superiori, cand judecam pe altii. Si toate ar fi bune si frumoase daca macar noi le-am respecta. Da e clar ca nu facem. Lucru care duce in multe cazuri la frustrare la mustrari de constiinta. Poate la asta se rezuma constiinta. Principiile in care credem dar pe care nu le respectam. Si care ne dau nopti nedormite.
Da’ de ce pana la urma ? De ce ne raportam la niste standarde pe care stim ca nu le vom atinge. Poate din dorinta de evolutie, de a fi mai bun bla bla. Poate … poate pentru a ne justifica greselile. Gresim dar stim ca nu e bine … Poate.
Da’ e mai bine asa ? Poate cel mai bine ar fi sa avem niste standarte la care sa stim ca o sa ne putem raporta. Sa ne bucuram de ceea ce facem chiar daca consideram ca gresim. Pai daca am fi asa convinsi ca nu e bine nu am mai face nu?
Nu stiu ce naiba se intelege da poate macar Niko intelege ceva :).
Hai sa facem ce ne face placere fara sa ne gandim la consecinte … poate asa invatam mai bine ce e rau si ce e bine.
Daca tot faci chestii de rahat macar sa fii impacat cu tine.
Zic nu predic … doar o idee nu cred neaparat ca asa e bine … da poate asa am fi mai putin stresati.
...
… or is it. In an truly surprising twist of fate, all thou in classic hollywood fashion, the tides may have turned in the last minute and our hero may still save the day and get the girl.
Or maybe life isn’t made in hollywood and this may not be the tides turning but rather the last twitch, the final uncontrolled reflex of a, otherwise, long dead body. The final cautionary words or just the unintelligible muttering of a dieing beast. The beast that was mortally wounded long time ago, that was expected to die quietly and out of sight. Yet this was a proud beast one that would not die in misery. It screamed and struggled, it lashed out at the ones waiting for it to die maybe with more vigor and indeed more madness than even before. But it would not last. You can’t defeat fate with will alone. After a while it’s violent struggle was reduced to a mere whine a quiet cry till finally it was heard no more. But even then it refused to die. It gained strength occasionally, taunted by the false illusion of hope. Cruel, cold, merciless hope. But it dared not hope to high. It merely wished, not to regain it’s full strength, witch now seemed impossible even to the stubborn beast, but to at least live. The fire in it’s heart may never be a blaze again but a gentle flicker may be enough. But even it didn’t believe that to be true. What a life would that have been for a beast that once soured the skies, that knew no limits or boundaries, that no one could tame. It had to die and it knew it. But it would not die quietly. It’s death would have meaning, it will not be forgotten. But it’s not it’s death but rather it’s life that should be praised and remembered.
This beast may be now truly and finally dead and the cries of it’s ghost may still haunt these places from time to time. But maybe now that it’s death and struggle may be put behind it’s life may have the center stage again. But we should not dwell in memories for too long. While today may have been the last for this beast, it’s agony finally calmed, things may not as grim as they would seem.
The beast may rise again one day like the mighty Phoenix. This beast would have the soul of the old one, it’s pride and stubbornness but it would nonetheless be a new and different beast.
But as it happens in life the new beast may be a mere imperfect copy, an unworthy reincarnation of the old one one that would never rise to the glory and power of the old one. And this new beast may also die one day another step in an seemingly never ending cycle. Yet my hope is that indeed one of these reincarnations may break this cycle. It will be impossible to hurt, impossible to kill it would rise beyond mortality because this beast is no ordinary beast. This beast is above all a symbol, an idea, a hope. And symbols cannot be destroyed, ideas cannot be silenced, hope cannot be killed.
The Day of the Beast will come again and when it does I will be there prepared.
THE END
I don't care if you don't
I don’t care if you don’t,
I don’t care if you don’t,
I don’t care if you don’t care.
Vers misto cu doua intelesuri la fel de bune si adevarate.
Psihologu amator de serviciu
La Multi Ani !!!
Mdea ... fucking somn
Poate castiga Adelix.
Da ar trebui sa fie Niko.
Macar acu de a starnit-o
(Da stiu ca nu acordeaza …*
*Da’ macar asa rimeaza.
“I have seen the future brother,
It is murder.”
Le mai zice si batranii
Nu numa la noi romanii.
“Destroy another fetus now
We don’t like children anyhow.”
How cool is that …
I actually listen to what,
The baked desert,
In all her wisdom, said.
How lame is that ![]()
Of cacat …
Iar mi-a cazut insigna,
Daca n-as fi tru m-as indigna.
Da e bine si asa,
Nu ma voi mai resemna
O lipesc in pula mea!!!
Nu la propriu acuma na.
De ce e viata atat de rea ![]()
Bicea …
(^think ingris)
De te prind ce ti-as facea.
(acu tre sa rimez cu gris)
Cine mananca,’n pula mea,
Ce pula mea, asa ceva.
Tre sa iasa metrica,
Chiar daca e in plus partea.
Acu pe bune m-as culca
Da ni-i teama c-o’nsera.
Da, stau prost cu logica
Degeaba n-o cauta.
Pot sa tot rimez cu a,
Pana ma apuca iara noaptea,
Da mi-e frica c-o pleca.
Nu stiu cine ‘n pula mea,
Ti-am mai spus cu logica.
Daca-s sti cum as putea,
Sa a nu mai mai rima.
Ma gandesc eu la ceva,
Ca-s desptept ce pula mea,
Sa mor, ce tot vorbesc asa??
Ca nu m-o nvatat mama.
Cum spuneam io m-as culca
Da’ imi vine a rima.
Ce sa fac daca am flow,
Ca vin din ghetou,
Si fac show
*da stiu ca eu nu fumez,
da tre sa socializez ![]()
necrophilia
Alas … the ghosts of the past are still haunting my soul. BE GONE DEMONS !!!!! Once and for all …
Cacaturi pe care am nevoie sa mi le iau de pe piept :|
Intro
Post … offline oarecum … scris in wordpad … yes I am that desperate. Cum spuneam, cuiva: am chef (care e cel mai important), am si subiecte oarecum. Inspiratie nu prea am da’ vine. Nu am net in schimb. Vaaai … parca toate puterile lumii fac tot posibilul sa mi se impotriveasca. Always me … always me … A … si mi-a sarit si shiftu la Jeg™. Si nu prea am chef sa il pun la loc ca vad ca nu se lasa asa usor. Si cacatu asta imi scrie cu font de 13 … cacat. Gata … remediat.
Tema I cap I
Eu nu judec oamenii … nu stiu de ce … nu stiu daca e bine sau nu. Eu zic ca e. Din puntu meu de vedere cel putin. La ce ma refer ? Sa zicem ca un cunoscut face ceva pe care eu nu l-as face sau il apreciez ca gresit dar care nu ma implica pe mine direct. In majoritatea cazurilor daca nu e ceva foarte extrem nu imi schimb parerea despre acel cineva sau uatever. Ii spun parerea mea … ii zic daca consider ca o gresit. Si atat … treaba lui face ce vrea. Ma repet … nu stiu daca e bine … nu zic ca e.
Interludiu I
James Blunt nu e atat de gay. Chiar as zice ca nu e gay deloc. Tot gay canta. Da’ na … Heck … he’s been in war an shit … he has bikes … he was on Top Gear => He’s not gay. He still sounds gay thou …
- I think I’m here by mistake.
*- We’re all here by mistake one way or another … if you think about it. *
Parafrazare din Wristcutters un film foarte misto. Recomand. Foarte misto. Un fel ce se intampla cu astia de se sinucid > ajung intr-o lume oarecum asemanatoare cu a noastra … doar ca e mai naspa :). Oamenii nu rad niciodata si chestii … merge vazut. We now return to our scheduled programing.
Tema I cap II
Nu judec pe nimeni in general. (Inainte sa continui … am spus-o si ma repet … cand spun ceva despre mine de obicei nu vorbesc la modul absolut … nu cred in asa ceva oricum … so … nu *prea *judec) Nu mi-o folosit propriu-zis. Desi is mult mai putin stresat ca altii
… chiar nu imi pasa de tigani, cocalari, politicieni, prosti, rusi sau uatever it is people blame these days … for their problems. Cum adica nu mi-o folosit ? Adica nu pot sa zic ca apreciat prea multa lume (asta in ipoteza ca asta ar fi ceva de apreciat … dar am spus deja ca nu sunt sigur ca e). De fapt nu prea a realizat multa lume sa zic … in primu rand. In fine … si cei care au apreciat ideea … conceptul … hmm … sa zicem ca tot degeaba ca cand a fost cazul concret (randul lor sa zic asa
) tot la fel s-au comportat. And here I go lamenting again … and I’m just getting started >
Interludiu II: Psychotic “repressed anger” flashback episode
ai mean … fac tot timpu cum cred ca e bine … corect … eu is intelegator tot timpu … si **singura **data cand nu fac asta … singura data cand “nu te inteleg” (si pe buna dreptate I might add … cand e ultima data cand m-ai inteles tu sau macar ai incercat) … you just throw it in my face don’t you … ironic sa mor io … cam ipocrit … cam prea ipcorit … ironic none the less. Well … fuck that … chiar nu-s maica tereza … nu-s pus pe pamantu asta sa “salvez” pe toata lumea … oile pierdute and all that shit … ajutor cu forta chiar nu se poate … ai sa realizezi pe cont propriu odata si odata … sincer sper asta. Da pana la urma …
Tema II
… we’re all fuck up after all … I mean … nobody is *normal . *There’s no such thing anyway. It’s just a statistic ai suppose … a projection of what most people perceive to be normal. Most of the people who believe in normality aren’t normal by their own definitions and standards.
So … we’re all fuck up … one way or another … let’s just cut the crap and embrace it
. You’re fucked up … so what are you gonna do about it ??? Nimic … exact … asta creca e raspunsul cel mai bun … nic. Ca nu ai de ce te impotrivrsti … nu e nimic rau in a fi fucked up … dar daca insisti: You’re fucked up … so … get over it … or do something about it … just stop whining.
We’re all fuck up … intr-un fel sau altul … mai subtil sau mai evident … fiecare are ceva.
Daca ar fi dupa mine heck … the more fucked up the better. Yeah … well … I have shitty taste in people … I know … sindromu maica tereza de care vorbeam ai suppose … dreacu …
Laitmotiv
Artrebui sa dorm.
Incheiere
Mai vroiam sa vb despre ceva … da ala o sa fie intr-un post separat. Despre adevar and shit parca … cu toata relativitatea lui … ceva de genu.