i-auzi lume

Advanced Global Personality Test Results Extraversion 60% Stability 36% Orderliness 43% Accommodation 30% Interdependence 63% Intellectual 36% Mystical 30% Artistic 63% Religious 10% Hedonism 76% Materialism 76% Narcissism 36% Adventurousness 70% Work ethic 83% Self absorbed 63% Conflict seeking 70% Need to dominate 70% Romantic 76% Avoidant 63% Anti-authority 50% Wealth 56% Dependency 70% Change averse 70% Cautiousness 70% Individuality 90% Sexuality 76% Peter pan complex 56% Physical security 90% Physical Fitness 50% Histrionic 70% Paranoia 70% Vanity 70% Hypersensitivity 76% Female cliche 50%

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si pe urma mai zicem:
Stability results were moderately low which suggests you are worrying, insecure, emotional, and anxious.

Orderliness results were moderately low which suggests you are, at times, overly flexible, improvised, and fun seeking at the expense of reliability, work ethic, and long term accomplishment.

Extraversion results were moderately high which suggests you are, at times, overly talkative, outgoing, sociable and interacting at the expense of developing your own individual interests and internally based identity.


and then, but only then...
open, tough, irritable, worrying, does not like to be alone, craves attention, low self control, emotionally sensitive, interacting, sad, very social, aggressive, prefer organized to unpredictable, dependent, social chameleon, suspicious, values the heart over the mind, likes large parties, outgoing, likes to make fun, likes to fit in, mildly phobic, vain, makes friends easily, enjoys leadership, clingy, rash

of mice and beggars

and so it begins, my new and overwhelming drug, that which sweetly sedates me and submerges me in a state of blissful trnaquility, with its harsh riffs and hypnotizing drum beats. i'm jumping from song to song and cannot get enough of the rythm and then the lyrics, and then the hidden meaning and the maddening idea that they are all part of a whole, and that it is within my power to discover what they stand for, or go my ignorant way, but enjoy them nonetheless.

i can't stop myself from saying this out loud, ca taranca aia de-si pune poalele in cap, sa ma vaza tot enternetul, dar... the mourning after and the haunting pwn my fangirly soul =))
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i was waiting for tp in the bus stop in romana, sitting on a fence and watching the world watching me as it was going by. have you ever noticed how invisible some people can be? take beggars for example. you don't see them. they look up at you with pleading eyes, with tired faces, eye-hollows which hope has long fled from, and there is something in your brain, like a gene that programs you, to look right through them. for the cultivated, for the educated brain, such degradation happens to other people, and smelly little kids and ragged old people are no business of yours. in fact, in modern society, they should not even actually exist. and if they shouldn't, well, that's a different story, that's only one small step away from the idea that they don't exist.

and so you disregard them completely. whatever bothers or assaults the human sensibilities is not really there, and the brain has an overwhemingly responsive way of being able to heal from such imbalances, just like marsh water closing in after a pebble fell in it with a gloop. we are all idiots, and cowards. we have fucked up our planet in 200 years, and are now sitting with our hands under our ass, to watch what happens. but more of that, some other time. this is beginning to sound more and more like pongo's "o'hana means family" editorial.

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when was the last time you did something for the first time, she asks me through the ever-welcoming surface of a sheet of paper. i know i should think of that longer, i know it's one of those questions that warrants a revelation of how you are not really living life to the best of your abilities.

to me, the answer comes disturbingly quickly. on sunday. two days before, when i went to the theatre and cried my ass off. it was full when we got there, as it always is when our mioritic peers hear the magic phrase *free entrance*, its magick (tm tp) potence rivaled only by such arcane words as "flippendo" or "alohomora". we enter the foyer reluctantly. i already spot a couple of familiar faces, and consequently do what i know best: i duck behind the closest tall person. such are the ways of the lemming.

turns out the theatre room is already full ,and that entrance is only allowed if you, mere mortal, possess the magic pass ticket invitation thingummy. flocks of people are already dejectedly leaving, but by some stubbornness of my friend's nature, we stay. the leading suffragette at the door finally admits us on the sexist basis that "haideti, ca suntem numai fete, intre noi aici-sha". we're in, and we're... sitting on the stairs of the balcony. good enough for me. (about the sore butt aftermath, perhaps in a later post)

what goes on before my eyes, however, that's a different story. it is "of mice and men", acted out by some dudes the same age i am, in a spell-binding way that had my eyes glued to the stage all the way until the final bang. i have never before cried at a theatre play, and i have rarely cried at a movie as much as i did on sunday. not moist eyes and sniffy nose, mind you, i was fully under the persuasion of the "boceam ca proasta" phenomenon.

to say that they were amazing, is a cliche. to say that i barely stopped myself from yelling out to lenny to *don't*, is self-understood. my words, as usual, escape me, but the mere fact that i felt compelled to jot it down, even after having been rattled by the "bucharest calling" monologue, or after the famous "fir'mituri" "am certificat" punch-line, should stand for something. (man, i feel pompous today). all i can say, withot feeling i am either over- or under-stating, is that they were beautiful. when bored, go see "of mice and men". or read it. or read anything. pick up a goddamn book once in a while. i might not know you, but i can bet you don't do it often enough. none of us do.

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se face un an si doua luni de cand am citit prima oara rotter's club. inca mai vad capul lui malcom in bratele ei, daca ma straduiesc un pic. nu cred ca am cum sa iubesc o carte in acelasi fel in care o iubesc pe aceasta. nu cred ca exista bucata de literatura mai frumoasa decat fraza lui bejamin, fraza aceea de 34 de pagini, in care scrie niste lucruri pe care cineva mi le-a soptit odata, demult. multumesc ca mi-ai exorcizat acea bucatica de trauma. te urasc ca ai scris closed circle.

despre taitei si diminetile mahmure de dupa

deci, dragii mosului, gather round and make yourselves at home on the edge of the water here, between pebbles and mormoloci de broasca, and listen to the story i shall proceed to tell.

pai au fost odata ca niciodata, cam ieri tot pe la orele acestea, un tricou alb si unul negru. tricoul negru aranja foite de ghimbir pe musamaua maronie. tricoul alb se facea ca aducea cantitati obscene de bautura cancerigena. si asa se pusera cei doi pe treaba. negrul ciopartea, albul impungea cu o furculita asemanatoare (in mintea de lemming) furcilor caudine. albul prajea, negrul facea si el ce stia, adica respira greu si fierbea paste. si se tot chinuira cei doi prieteni pana ce din chinurile si munca lor iesira... taitei cu pui, salata de papadie si chestii mici si roz, cam inecata in maioneza, parerea mea, monser, si niste chestii ascutite care aduc aminte de gratarele si culesul de mure de pe marginea drumului poiana-rucar.

pai si voinicii nostri, dupa ce trecura prin aceste grele munci, se asezara si devorara roadele acestor munci. de la l'oreal, pentru ca meriti. va uram pofta buna, si va mai uram sa nu va doara tati shieli dupi ashieia, asa cum ne durura pe noi.

look at the stars!

i haven't been on in a long time. but i guess the laziness has gotten the best of me. i was in the park yesterday, on the little island, sitting on the ground, freezing my butt off and smiling, smoking, telling stories and jokes. it's been a long time since i felt that relaxed around anyone but tp, and in a way it felt like i always imagine feeling when i'm hanging out with my friends. those people that are always surprisingly different from everything i daydream or imagine.

at one point i looked up at the stars, and i remembered that wintery evening years ago, when i looked up to the sky, from a piece of wasteland that you can't even get to anymore, due to a stupid green fence. and i wondered, for the first time, aloud, how many people, right then, were looking up at the sky and wondering how many other people out there were at that point looking up at the sky. and what were they seeing? stars, the dawn, high sun, cloudy evening. and then, the true miracle, i felt a hand shyly slipping into mine and squeezing, just a bit, enough to give warmth and the comfort of a wish come true. yesterday, for the first time in a long time, i felt free enough to look up and ask again. but not aloud. probably never again.

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so i finally got the suvite thing out of my system *grumble*. i suppose this is one thing that is not meant to happen. *humoungous pout*

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it only took us two years and a half, but here we are. today. ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our castles and our dreams!