ciudat cum evantaiul expiră tocmai atunci când mă aştept mai puţin. poate provocat de fereastra deschisă, de aerul rece tomnatic, de momentul ăsta ciudat care nu se mai termină pentru a lăsa liniştea să acopere zbaterea, el îmi aminteşte constant de piele. şi nu orice fel de piele, ci de aceea fină, acoperită de gulerul cămăşii.
inspir şi aproape că mă sufocă pentru că prezenţa pare imanentă, dar lipseşte cu desăvârşire. fizic.
and it’s never as easy as one would expect it to be.
i feel like i should be writing smth here, “to remember”, so to speak. but I don’t know what to say. evthing seems somehow fake. I’d rather get soaked in this.. surprise internally.. it’s surprising and though I feel overwhelmed, I fear that … internally, right? so be it.
Filed under: random
This should be no surprise and I should get (maybe understand) the cause of this drifting apart from particular people. yet, I don’t. i’m just not designed like this. nor can i adapt to it. i mean, i guess i’m doing it after all. one can’t manage these things on his own.
“friendship”, such a tricky concept. i was never good at seeing above my own definition of it. not that it’s clear cut anyways.
yeah, that was episode n+1 of bitching around.
why bother? (might be indeed the Z time i’ve said this)
* u know what? i finally got my National items 
!which i forgot@work. not too nifty of me
Filed under: random
messing with people’s minds and feelings is too easy. i should stop. stop. but it’s tempting. the game. the boredom.
* i love this band
Filed under: random
i have this nostalgia for something perfect (perfectly unperfect, yet so desirable) that never happened, couldn’t have hapenned, still on a very imaginative level, doable, to be attained and lived and experienced. I keep telling myself that I should really face the fact that some things never turn out the way I want them to and that it’s normal (normal being the key word). I actually manage to convince myself of it and at the same time, I keep preserving that seed, half seed (dunno) that keeps skipping beats, on not such an often basis, rather like a arctic feeling of ‘what if’, ‘in another life’ etc etc.
then again, I get easily influnced by all these external stimuli and they’re everywhere, poking without a warning. no wonder I get perplexed in front of notions, colours and voices.
no wonder I get to write about it without having a clue on when’s it going to take off. it is. now.. gradually. pacing
m.e.
Filed under: random
I’ve lost my interest in the online. or @ least in this side of the www.
finally
p.s. fascinaţia pentru Eugenia Maria e din ce în ce mai mare. e acel lucru pe care îl simţi atunci când întâlneşti(chiar si in scris) pe cineva copleşitor.. şi aşa mai departe.
