Sushiville

Salut domnule castor! Nu vrei un senvici cu hochland?

Si uite-asa se urca, si pe urma se coboraaaaa.... Si lemmingu ameteaaaaa

Daca pleeeeci, iaaaaaa-mi si mie un iPooooood.....

Mi-am aruncat privirea pe un stalp, si s-a lipit acolo. Si p-orma i-a cazut ochiul ;)

bunicule, finalgonul!

There's so much pain around me... It's like an unhealed wound that I can see bleeding. People who hurt, people who hurt themselves, innocent, all of them, because, in the end, too few people really deserve what happens to them.

There was no fussing when I hurt. There's only that all-around agreement to "act normally, ignore the problem, she'll get over it". And I suppose I do. But I also want to do what I can for others, so they don't get to feel that algocalmin-la-fiola taste in their mouth. Even if, sometimes, they don't want me to.

What can I do? I suck at giving advice, but that doesn't sometimes prevent me from doing so anyway. But mostly... I kid around. I play a role, so that people will, at least for a little while, forget what's troubling them, go back to brooding with an uncreased forehead, perhaps figure themselves out. It hurts me to know that someone's dad died, that someone else was not old enough to ever have met his, that someone is dying, that someone else is trying not to, that someone's dad is a violent alcoholic. That shit happens by the bucketfull. We really should profit from every time a bird poops on us (has been happening a lot lately :D) to remember that time-honoured philosophy of "luckily, cows don't fly".

As an afterthought, I wish that people would STOP taking my sunny disposition for granted and be personally offended when I'm sick/tired/with problems/PMS-ing/just not in the mood. It happens so rarely, anyway... I wish there was someone doing for me what I try to do for the ones I love. Probably this is the real reason I do it, after all. We're narcissists, all of us. :|

jocul de-a m-am ascuns

I don't really have a lot of memories from back then. Fragmented images, yes. But no sound, no ".avi files". And yet one hit me the other day, and it was like running into an old friend in the street, one that you haven't seen in a while, but you're delighted, nonetheless, for no reason at all.

I remember a trust exercice we used to play. Holding hands while we walked through the city, walked aimlessly or to a pre-established location. It didn't matter much. One of us would close our eyes, and the other would lead by the hand.

I remember him talking, aimlessly, idly, about future plans, or recent events, books and movies and adventures. I remember the buzz of traffic and people. The dents in the asphalt, treacherously negotiated, with silly giggles ensuing.

I remember me leading, sometimes not talking, just enjoying the feeling it gave, walking hand-in-hand. We must have looked so odd, two kids, one with eyes closed.

I never did care about how odd I looked living my life. If only there was a camera, to record those times, those long before, those to come. Some viewing that'd make...

No, the picture has nothing to do with it. "Oriunde ne ducem, lumea ne intreaba..."