duminică, 27 decembrie 2015

The story of Min and how I learned to stop shouting

Once upon a time there was a country far far away.
A country of many colors and shapes and textures, a country so glorious and so crazy in its existence that you could taste the sky and you could swim in forests of apple trees. 
Birds would dance around flying flowers and tiny mountains would sprout on the ceiling of the rainbow houses where lovely friendly people lived in peace with one another. They were the happiest people on the planet of Earth; they would be good neighbors to each other, always ready to help and welcoming. They would never fight and there was no such thing as a conflict in this land.
The divorce rate was 0% and there would be a wedding every weekend; they would drink fuchsia beer out of floating sparkling glasses then, play funny games and exchange gifts with each other.
All kids in this country were happy. All elders in this country were grateful with the lives they lived, that's why each death here was celebrated instead of mourned. 
Everything was bliss. Everything was peace.
A peace so deep that the entire country lived in silence.
Because this was the strangest thing about Silencia, for this is the country I am talking about. There were no sounds here. No music. Everything was quiet. And all its inhabitants were deaf. They would communicate only in written and by the use of gestures.
Which brings us back to our story.  
Once upon a time in Silencia there was a strange little boy named Min.
Min was just about your age or mine. He liked to play football and going to the cinema (where all movies were silent) and most of all he loved to dream. He dreamed about foreign countries and fantastic worlds and fairy-tale creatures. All kids in his school called him Weirdo because they found him strange. They couldn't understand his fascination with other things, different things, curious things. It was the same with the teachers. They all thought Min should be home schooled and not forced to study in a normal institution. They would call him special.
So they all left poor Min by himself, not realizing this way he would become even more absorbed with his inner world.
I forgot to mention that Silencia was always welcoming foreigners and that they had very good relationships with all the surrounding countries. However, it was very rare that people would leave Silencia. So rare, that people on Earth would always make fun of the silencers, that they are as rare as hen's teeth. 
Anyway, as days went by and Min graduated, he was very confused about what he should do. All his colleagues had their career decisions taken even before starting high-school.
Another strange thing about Silencia was that for some reason there were very few fiction books published by silencers. So when Min told his family he will start working on writing a fiction book, they were a little disappointed; but since they were good silencers, they couldn't help being happy about his choice in the end.
One day, as he was doing research work for his book, Min stumbled on a word he didn't understand. And not only that he didn't understand it, he couldn't find it in the dictionary and all papers he consulted in order to find an explanation for the term were not very helpful, as the concept was not familiar at all to him.
The word was...

vineri, 27 noiembrie 2015

mi-e sufletul îmbibat de tine

mi-e sufletul îmbibat de tine.
în urechi îmi țiuie jazz.
mă trezesc cu tine în gând, și e un gând drag, nici nu mă deranjează în timp ce îmi servesc micul dejun și cafeaua cea de toate zilele sau în timp ce-mi aranjez părul în oglindă.
un zâmbet senin îmi flutură pe buze. știu că și tu te gândești la mine.
apoi ziua înflorește, și bune, rele, toate se împletesc într-un melaj din care aleg doar ce mi se potrivește. uneori pot să înfrunt tot răul, alteori mă simt slabă. uneori îmi plesnește inima de bunăvoie și țopăi ca un copil în jurul oamenilor dragi. alteori mă strâmb la ei. de cele mai multe ori, însă, îi iubesc prea mult să nu mă iubească și ei.
și clipele trec, trec, trec, și uit de tine, apoi îmi amintesc, sau îmi amintești tu, și zâmbesc, zâmbesc, zâmbesc, până iar mi se face atât de dor că simt cum îmi cresc aripi. aripi cu care aș putea să zbor la tine.
când seara se lasă, dorul de tine devine pălălaie.
și-atunci mă las purtată de muzică, de cuvinte citite prin cine știe ce carte, mă las inundată de orice stinge marea de foc ce-mi incolțește în inimă. și tu mă mângâi, uneori mai atent, alteori mai distras, uneori mai absent, alteori sârguincios și cu chef de joacă.
mi-e sufletul îmbibat de tine. și mă simt un om mai bun.

vineri, 13 noiembrie 2015

duminică, 8 noiembrie 2015

You were right, Darling

Today I was just talking with P. about you, when I remembered something you said last New Years Eve.
Remember Last New Years Eve? When I was crying at 1 am with a bottle of white wine in bed, watching Sex and the City?
That was when you predicted that I would stop drinking red wine with Coke, that I would get a sales job and that I would meet a man with brains, looks and spirit. A man worthy of me, as you said.
Guess what, Darling?
You were right.
I got a sales job. And then I lost it 2 weeks after.
I met the guy of my dreams. He's 2000km away from me.
And I drink a lot of red wine. Without Coke.
So cheers, let's drink to forgetting you ever wished me anything. Let's drink to chaos, and not knowing what might happen and not giving a damn about predictions.
Let's just drink.
To you being right, Darling.

duminică, 1 noiembrie 2015

you go to my head

you go to my head
like red wine
like light on a Sunday morning
like the jazz song I keep hearing in my head
each time we kiss.

you go to my heart
like real tears
of joy
and sorrow
like the warmth of an embrace that makes
the sun shine on us so bright.

you go with me
my darling
and I with you
we're drunk
in love
and wishing we could be
but only
at the distance of one heart.

PS - you just told me I am drunk.
PPS - that's exactly what I want to be.

vineri, 16 octombrie 2015

Special needs

I don't need the light
I don't need the night;
I don't know if I want tomorrow to come.
the sun is just a ghost,
a shade of golden white on a gray sky, suffocating the dawn.
I don't even need the sky
I don't need the entire planet;
I don't know if I really need a country.
my house is a shadow of tangled colors, all disintegrating at the same time.
I need my room
I need me;
I know I want you.
You are light enough.

sâmbătă, 10 octombrie 2015


Sometimes I have to change my words into a whisper to be able to say things right.
As if the pitch of my voice could be proportional in any way to effect of their meaning.
Like an earthquake trembling from my soul to yours.

So I let the words just slowly brush my lips
And my hands, they hardly touch your fragile surface
And I'm afraid to even stare into your eyes; even the thought of it makes my heart turn to stone

So I just watch you through black eye lashes
Through salty rivers
Through a house of cards only a touch of wind could shatter.

And you know.
You always knew.
What wild winds exist in me.
A cold winter has awaken and nothing but its own fierceness can stop it from unleashing its countless dead and frozen limbs.

Don't let the intensity of myself embrace you.
Make my fury elude you.
You know there is fervor and depth in my love that could crush the world.

Let me be tired and obscured.
Because keeping me hazy will keep us alive.

luni, 10 august 2015

I have loved you and even worse.

I just have one question before you go away and end up being just another name, just another game, just another reason to fake getting drunk on Saturday evenings.

Was it worth it?
To work so hard
to make me love you
to make me believe you were there
was it worth it to make me lose my head
for the last time?
because I swear
it was the fucking last time
you can go to hell
burn and die in it
for all I care
yes, I am angry
I want to hurt you
I want to see you suffer
I want to make you bleed
till you get
to reach me
on this deserted island
so that I can get to kill you
one last time
before you go to hell
for your silly sins
and I go whisper sweet punishments in Satan's ear,
as you were hoping,
as you always saw me.
your nemesis
your favorite sinner
your most beloved enemy
fuck you
go to hell
and never call my name.

And so I woke up, all sweat and tears. Just to find the blood on my sheets. And you closer to me than ever.

luni, 20 iulie 2015

Needy poem

I used to be the band-aid that covered your wounds.
that ignored your issues and smiled to you despite them.
that listened to your problems and then tell you it's all going to be fine.
that carried your load when you couldn't.

I used to be your hideaway, that's what you called me.
your perfect friend that would never let you down.
your clown on a rainy day.
your secret passion.

I used to be used.
like a medicine.
like a drug.
like a second soul that took in all the grief, and pain and suffering for you.

I used to think it's okay.
Go on, light me up again, pour me into your veins.
Hide with me, color me in shades of night and don't ever let anybody ever find me.
Let me stop your bleeding and turn your wounds into scars and your scars into memories that fade. 
Memories that fade.
Like I do.
Close your eyes. I never existed.
I never deserved to exist.

Some drugs don't deserve to be illegal.
Some hideaways don't deserve to be secluded.
And I'm pretty sure, even though I don't exist,
that not all band-aids deserve to be ripped.

vineri, 10 iulie 2015

Just another peaceful day

The sheets were clinging to my skin when the alarm started ringing. With lazy movements, I got myself to the bathtub and just let the cold water hit me with its sweet biting sensation. The air was hard, dense and filled with a soft vanilla perfume. It soon started raining violently and the smell of leaves invaded the little dark room where I stood looking at the white curtains while I was preparing coffee.
It's just another peaceful day.
Just lingering in sweet laziness with my tousled hair falling in waves over my shoulders and back, still waiting to be disentangled by some unknown fingers and caressed by unknown eyes.
It's wonderful how empty the house feels. I can almost touch the echo of your past steps in my embrace with solitude. But a silence sweet and dense as honey makes the temptation pass; a summer rain inside of me as unstable as the one at my window.
It's just another passing feeling of equilibrium that comes and goes, like my entire existence is hanging to the same fast moving pendulum; only that now it has started loosing momentum and I can feel a strange power in me, the kind that makes me reach out my hands and grab whatever they can grasp.
So that I can let go again to a moment when unknown hands can catch me.

sâmbătă, 23 mai 2015

Failing against all odds

Cute guy that likes me: Know any nice girls for me? (smiles with meaning)
Me: Not really. A. is taken, I. as well, D. is messed up...

Smile fades away.

2 days later, I finally got it.

I'm going to hang myself.

marți, 12 mai 2015

Wake up

Today I heard your name for the first time in 2 months. I felt as if I was electrocuted, a million impulses running through me, all pointing to your face, your smell, your smile, to all that I did not leave myself miss all this time.
And it's strange, since you have such an unusual name. It felt weird to stand there, midway my smile, with my hands in the air, feeling my stomach bungee-jump.
It was a smiling woman mouth that said your name. She pronounced it so distinctly, so enunciated, so deliberate and yet so unknowing of its toxic effect. She didn't even pronounce it correctly. You've always had a funny name. I always used to make fun of it.
Right in the middle of the last vowel, I felt all the air in my lungs hurt and I had to let it out and then hold my breath. And yet she remained ignorant to my secret suffering and rambled on.
And it was all our history.
How we used to dream.
To work.
To smile.
To laugh and laugh and laugh till it hurt.
She talked about our dream as if it was the most common thing in the world.
Our dream, our beautiful grand dream. Oh, how I miss dreaming with you, darling. I miss dreaming about you. I miss waking up with my very first though being you. I miss waking up with you. Coming home to you. Finding you there. Staying up all night with you. Being your hideaway.
How could you? How could you make my dream come true?
How could you turn my beautiful dream into the cold reality of this woman?
How could you?
How could you?

As she finished talking, I took a deep breath and I re-composed myself. I rose from the table, cold smile on my face, cold heart in my chest, cold solitude all around me. And I just pretended it never happened. And then it hit me. Maybe I was dreaming all this entire time.

Wake up, Alexandra.

luni, 23 martie 2015

Cryptic-wannabe-poem about how I desperately loved you and still do.

I have't listened to this song in so long
it doesn't even remind me of you anymore
it just reminds me of it reminding me of you
which is kind of saying that it reminds me of you

Time has past
and I'm the same girl
same reckless child
that loves colors, and dreams and friends

And my smile is still dancing on my face;
still have the same front teeth that look like a little ribbon,
like you used to always say
when we were laughing and walking and dancing and drinking together

This song takes me back to the mountains
to the beautiful perfume of nature, savage and free
as we are;
as the reflection of us is, wondering the blue skies and green peaks

And yet it's just a simple, out-of-key-song
Almost naked of substance
Stupid in its construction
Almost as my love for you;
For I do love you.

duminică, 22 martie 2015

Standards of business conduct my ass

From: WZ
Subject: Monday email
To: XY

Dear XY,

I did nothing last week, while you were on leave.

Kind regards,


From: XY
Subject: RE: Monday email
To: WZ

I'm so going to whip you...


20 minutes later...

From: XY
Subject: Hey, did you do what I asked you to?
To: WZ


From: WZ
Subject: NO.
To: XY


From: XY
Subject: RE: NO.
To: WZ

You're just a mean little bitch, aren't you?

Kind regards,

marți, 17 martie 2015

am o inimă atât de proastă că vrea să fie plămân

cred că am uitat iar că am o biată inimă. nici nu vrei să știi prin câte a trecut din vina mea. mereu o uit prin tot felul de locuri, mai mult sau mai puțin prietenoase. cel mai rău e că uneori nici ea nu vrea să mai vină cu mine. se oprește la alte inimi, beau și fumează în timp ce dansează pe mese. a doua zi vine acasă. zdrelită și beată.
de data asta chiar am luat-o de urechi. păi se mai poate așa?

- ori te faci inimă de treabă, ori nu mai pupi afară. sau te dau la câini, ne-am înțeles?
tace și plânge ca o proastă. parcă n-o știu. o zi-două să treacă și o văd iar, zurbagie și zbanghie.

- numai belele îmi faci, degeaba orăcăi acum!

- ești de căcat, băi inimă, pe bune. cum adică fugi de acasă, te-ai țăcănit?!

- hai, gata, gata, știi doar că îți vreau doar binele.

se uită la mine cu ochi mari și printre suspine îmi zice:
- ah, dacă eram un plămân!
bineînțeles că nici plămânu', orgolios din cale afară, nu se lasă mai prejos:
- fă proasto, din cauza ta era să mor acum două zile! când ți-a zis ăla că nu te vrea, gata, repede, te sufoci!
- mai taci, fraiere, că fără mine erai un nimic!
- era cât pe ce să mă tușească asta din cauza ta! de față cu prostul ăla după care mori!

inima se ridică furioasă și se uită amenințător către plămân.
- hai, lasă, că mai vedem noi. bine că s-a apucat de fumat. scap și de tine... și de ea!

la câțiva kilometri depărtare, inima inimii mele dansează, beată și drogată.
și nici nu știe să mai vină acasă...

sâmbătă, 14 martie 2015

When the guy you like is a shmuck

You just have to make sure to at least purchase one bottle of wine. Ignore the judgemental look of the store clerk and just ask for change to a 100 bill and then make up your mind 100.23 times whether you need a plastic bag or not.
Apply bottle of wine to forehead and smash really hard 100 times till you feel your prefrontal cortex got the picture and then just make sure you hard-wire it in your basal ganglia.
Pour wine into glass.
Watch at least 5 men look suspiciously at you because you just put Diet Coke in your glass of wine. Give 0 fucks whatsoever.
Cry like you mean it.
How can you love a shmuck?
Now go hug yourself!

luni, 23 februarie 2015


I hate it.
and I hate me more
when I don't love
you had to go
there was no more space
in my heart for
you cluttered my veins
stumbled on my defenses
broke through my lines of attack
tasted the cinder and smoke
of the most terrible war
I started for
you take so little
when you deserve so much more
so please, darling
take my hand
my lips
burn them
and take what you will
in the fire of

duminică, 15 februarie 2015

Quotes I thought about this week

"Life is so cruel that sometimes not even socks get to find their other half." - Unknown, could be me :)

"Leave the gun. Take the cannoli." Clemenza, The Godfather I

miercuri, 11 februarie 2015

reasons why social interaction in the morning is bad for me. and to you if you know me.

It's 11 a.m. and:
- I was already asked to review a poetry. It was crap. 
- I was already asked to comment on the uprising war threatening to swallow Romania along with the entire Eastern Europe. I hope only the stupid will die.
- I already had strangers in my house. One of them was asking too many questions. So I killed him.
- Now I'm trying to hide the body.
- I haven't even had the time for the only thing I want to see in the morning, which is a big ass cup of coffee. Or a shotgun. No preferences, but coffee does taste better.

song to blend it nicely:


luni, 2 februarie 2015

stupid country song breaking my heart!

it may be country, but it's resonating with a very deep side of my soul.
and I feel it shatter my heart in so many pieces I feel I will never be able to put them all together.
it doesn't remind me of anybody.
it doesn't bring any memories to mind.
it doesn't relate to anything I have ever felt or known.
but each time I listen to it
it breaks my heart.

stupid country song breaking my heart!

marți, 13 ianuarie 2015

Romantic crap

Remember when we climbed that tree and we just stood there to see the sunrise? Our feet were numb and our backs would hurt, but we just didn't give up. And then you put those rose petals in my hair and I said "that's some romantic crap right there!".
We'd chase each other all over the park like stupid kids at 5 am in the morning.
And then we fell asleep on the couch, all space between us. Just our hands were touching.
Do you remember?
Neither do I.

I'm working and listening to Muddy, the only high I need these days.

duminică, 11 ianuarie 2015


Today I went shopping and it took me 3 hours to decide on a new telephone. I finally purchased a new pillow instead. I named it Snuggles.

On another note, I had to witness a strange, yet entertaining moment for me. My sister doing a project with other 2 girls in her class.
>one of them sent a model
>after 2 hours of arguing and trying to agree, I did the calculus for them
>then they called each other on the phone and b*tched about the class, the subject of the project, the colleagues, the weather, etc.
>then staring for 5 minutes at a blank page
>finally they decided to send it in that form
>it's just half a point anyway
>I can't believe I let her borrow my PC and I did nothing but read all this entire time
>good thing I had my Snuggles