Am visat ca eram undeva in alta tara sau departe, si m-am urcat intr-un taxi. S-a facut brusc intuneric si soferul de taxi dormea langa mine, in dreapta mea. Era negricios, cu fata nitel triunghiulara si mustata, ca un indian. M-am intrebat daca doarme cu adevarat sau se preface si atunci mi s-a facut frica, tare frica. Sofer de taxi indian care m-ar putea viola, sau omori, sau sa ma lase in mojlocul campului. M-am gandit ca ar trebui/ar fi trebuit sa anunt prietenii ca sunt intr-un taxi, cam cum anuntam in anul 1 cand ma mai intalneam cu oameni pe Neogen. Teama asta de viol la un sofer indian e dintr-o carte a lui Eliade, dar nici in vis nu mi-am putut aminti cum se numeste.
La un moment dat, mi-am dat seama ca soferul chiar doarme, de-asta era indiferent la “Va rog, sa plecam, va rog”. Nu stiu daca a condus o vreme adormit, sau a adormit imediat ce m-am urcat in masina, i-am vazut ochii nervosi, lacramosi, ochi de om innacrit si nervos si obosit si frustrat si… ochi de barbat Indian sarac.
S-a facut lumina (dar nu rasarit) si mergeam pe un drum de tara, printre dealuri. Am inceput sa mergem pe iarba, pe un deal. Am ajuns aproape de o cireada de vaci (hmmm, vacile-s sfinte ptr Indieni). Si o vaca a inceput sa ne urmareasca, avea niste coarne mari si lungi. Atunci am realizat ca masina era rosie, desi cand m-am urcat in ea parca era alba sau galbena. Am ajuns aproape fata in fata cu vaca, care venea spre noi cu coarnele lasate, sa ne atace. Eram relaxata, nu imi mai era teama.
Si nu mai stiu ce s-a intamplat, ca a sunat telefonul.

1. De ce era soferul in dreapta mea? Nu-mi amintesc sa fi condus eu.
2. Eram in India?
3. Soferul asta de taxi (taxi=last resort solution) e dispus sa ma duca unde vreau?
4. Eram in soft mode on (explicabila frica aia intensa).
5. Voiam sa ajung … ACASA.

Forma aia viteaza, cu carapace de testoasa, e un Vishnu-Shiva. E protectoare si incearca sa pastreze lucrurile cum sunt ptr ceilalti, incercand sa scoata cat mai multe in avantajul meu (=sa nu fiu atacata). Si, daca nu se poate astfel, iese fata lui Shiva, cel care loveste cu sabia in mana, fara sa-i pese de ceea ce distruge si de haosul creat.

Si toate astea… pentru a strange niste suflete.



Smiley – Acasa

It’s like the last drops of freedom and I wana be conscient. Of them, of myself.
I am as free as I can possibly be, and will get even more freedom.
Inside is the true freedom.
And yes, Frankl.

“But there was no need to be ashamed of tears, for tears bore witness that a man had the greatest of courage, the courage to suffer.”
“Those who have a ‘why’ to live, can bear with almost any ‘how’.”

“Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”
This is what I call “conscience”.


“The attempt to develop a sense of humor and to see things in a humorous light is some kind of a trick learned while mastering th e art of living. Yet it is possible to practice the art of living even in a concentration camp, although suffering is omnipresent. To draw an analogy: a man’s suffering is similar to the behaviour of gas. If a certain quantity of gas is pumped into an empty chamber, it will fill the chamber completely and evenly, no matter how big the chamber. Thus suffering completely fills the human soul and conscious mind, no matter whether the suffering is great or little. Therefore the “size of human suffering” is absolutely relative.   p.55  “Man’s Search for Meaning”, Rider.

Who are you? Why should I trust you? Why should I feel no fear when thinking/coming/talking/feeling there?
The Truth will set you free. Or Love will set you free. Or Love chains you and puts you down.
And all you do, you do from love, and people don’t appreciate it. But do you really do it from love? Or you do it from FEAR?
Fear that people might reject you unless you do what they say? “I want this for you because I LOVE you”. “Ok, I’ll do it for you because I LOVE you too”.

In realitate, am facut-o pentru ca imi era teama de retragerea iubirii. Si de teama de nou, de ce ar fi acolo, Dincolo. Fara nimeni care sa stea cu ochii pe mine. Ce sa fac cu atata libertate?
Fara nimeni cunoscut, nimeni caruia sa-i pese de mine. Nimeni care sa-mi spuna ce sa fac (pentru ca ma iubeste si-mi vrea binele).

[Norman:] We’re all in our private traps
[Norman:] Clamped in them, and none of us can ever get out
[Marion:] Sometimes we deliberately step into those traps
[Norman:] I was born in mine; I don’t mind it anymore
[Marion:] Oh but you should, you should mind it
[Norman:] I do, but I say I don’t

The truth will set you free.
And the truth is this: Love will set you free. While Fear will always keep you down.



i run too fast for my feet
i might fall in my sleep
go to the sea of no colour
only the red that makes the wind go away
it’s raining and we enter the water
it’s not cold as expected
and the waves are friendly

i get out and try on the beach
the sand is vertical and grey
grey is the colour of my dream;
while your neck, your neck is so white
you are Snow White as a man
white skin, dark coloured eyes and hair

i could picture this in a Sunday morning
a hairy chest above the white sheets
a sleepy smile and a tender kiss
some warm arms and a cuddly embrace
be my Snow White or i’ll hunt you down
be my Snow White or i will go down

the spiral of desire is always so difficult
i live in my head and life is adventurous
but only in mind, and only in my palms
all those lines of multiple love, of many life-paths
go down to one life
the life in which i loathe Snow White
the life in which i lust for Snow White

i hate you men because you are men
and i will never be a man
i hate you man because i want you man
and i can only have you as a woman
which i am too afraid to be…

how can you be the man that i need you to be, when i cannot be a woman that you need me to be?
running around in circles, of solitude, of powerlessness, of undisclosed desire
reconsider the past

Take these broken wings
I’m gonna take these broken wings
And learn to fly
Learn to fly away
I’m gunning down romance

Such an irony the thought there might be someone to know completely. Or to be known completely by.


I am not Legend
I am not Asimov’s puppet
I have been a puppet half of my life,
Your puppet, their puppet, life’s puppet
I closed and opened my eyes
Trying to keep the unbreakable unbroken
Then it was broken and it was worse than death
But showed me a way
You’re never broken unless you break yourself
And even then, each piece of you is Yourself
Like every cell is the same DNA as your whole body
So I was never broken, see,
Their lives gave myself – ME

I am 30 and I AM OK
I can live through each day
without thinking too much that I’d rather die
I’ll never want to throw myself in a pond because of a failed exam
Or cut my skin and let it bleed because of treachery

One day, I’ll even look at people and see they’re beautiful
Without feeling any guilt saying:
You’re like your father, ready to cheat
And I’ll talk to people without feeling the guilt:
You’re like your mother, always willing to talk
One day it’ll just be me, ME, ME

A good parent, a great parent for the kids
The real kids and the kid in me and the kid in you
We need parents for the kids we used to be
We ARE parents for the kids we are now
Let’s not let other people be our parents again
They don’t see us as adults
And keep treating us like babies

I hate their constrain, because
It goes deep down to that inner-kid again.
It’s always easier to let responsability to someone else
But how can we learn to be responsible if we don’t decide for ourselves?

It’s not something said by my parents or friends or kids or husband
Because I feel it
Because somehow I am complete as a human being can be
I know despair, I know pain, I know love and desire
And I know weaknesses and power.
I also know that most people are not better than myself, just different.
I also know that most people are not weaker then me, just different.

I know my self imposed perfection was seldom mine
And it was a self impossible to live with
I know that most people would not live up to that standard of perfection
And they don’t need to.

We all have a potential and a potential to realize that potential
To put it into reality and create new things.
Look at me, I’m a tester, which is another word for breaker
I break switches and applications, I search their vulnerabilities, their un-compliances
“Seek and destroy” and I’m good at it

How can I put my destructive force into my work
So that I don’t feel the need to spank my kids
Or press their little bodies when they hit me
It’s a question for the days to come
For the moment, I am happy that I AM
and I AM OK.

Music to listen to:     8 tracks radio
Tolerance – Dejection
Ed Sheeran (Kygo Remix) – I see fire
The Cinematic Orchestra – Arrival Of The Birds & Transformation

Uneori nu e de ajuns sa spui “E OK”. Uneori nu e de ajuns sa descoperi ca esti ok.
Am 30 de ani si sunt OK. Asa mi-am zis, asa m-am laudat. Am 30 de ani si nu sunt fericita, dar sunt constienta. Oare chiar asa e? De cate ori imi pun gandurile in ordine si ies cu ceva in fata, viata vine si-mi pune intrebari. Totul trebuie pus sub semnul intrebarii, da. Dar cate radacini sa mai analizez? Simt nevoia de ceva sigur in viata mea, ceva sigur, si e tare infiorator ca nu e nimic sigur. In afara mea, nimic nu e sigur in viata. Si nici eu nu sunt sigura.
Da, imi iubesc copiii, dar uneori visez sa evadez. Si pe tine te iubesc, chiar daca nu stiu cum s-o arat. Si nici tu nu stii sa-mi arati.

Aam visat ca-mi cadeau dintii (o punte cu vreo 20 de dinti) si ca mi s-a rupt in mana, in 3 locuri. Eram contrariata in vis, uimita si un pic suparata (in realitate, am o punte acolo, cu 5 dinti, de mult stiu ca ar trebui sa lucrez la ea).
Dupa 2 nopti, am visat un vis recurent – ca ma ataca niste barbati, pusi de tatal meu, si ca loveam in ei, fara sa le provoc prea mare durere. Nu eram panicata, totusi. Dar am ajuns sa atac un barbat despre care nu stiam daca vrea sa-mi faca rau sau nu.
De multe ori am avut visul asta in care ma bateam cu barbati. Uneori nu le puteam face nimic si atunci ma trezeam, urasc sa iau bataie sau sa mor in vise.
Ieri seara am avut o discutie cu sotul meu si s-a terminat f. urat… acum sunt tare trista si ma gandesc la visele astea. Vreo interpretare? Ultima oara cand am visat ca-mi cad dinti a murit bunica, inainte de asta.. un var de-al mamei


i’m just sad
and it snows inside
hey, get up
and ask what you want
i want hugs, i want warmth
why do i always have to ask for them?
why am i not worthy of them?

why do i always meet people who stop there, in the middle of the road, and wait for me to get to them? they don’t come towards me, they stay there and wait.

acest conditional imi mananca sufletul
“nimeni alaturi de mine”, spune cartea
“eu sunt viitorul unei persoane din trecut”, spune cealalta carte
eu ma transform
sa ies din conditional
“te iubesc DACA”
te iubesc oricum, dar sa faci aia si ailalta
te iubesc oricum, dar nu ti-o voi arata
te iubesc oricum, dar copiii nu trebuie auziti
te iubesc oricum, dar voi da militaria jos din pod
te iubesc oricum, dar nu ma iubesc pe mine si nici pe tine nu stiu sa te iubesc
te iubesc oricum, dar nu te pot invata sa iubesti, sa te iubesti, sa iubesti pe altii
te iubesc oricum, dar iti voi da leapsa din generatie in generatie
te iubesc oricum, dar poate vei invata tu cum sa iubesti fara conditii

si daca vei invata, poate ne vei invata si pe noi.

grea povara.
de aceea mi-a dat Dumnezeu umerii largi, ca sa pot duce poveri grele.

Oricat as incerca sa ma tin tare, sa-mi zic “asta e, odata si-odata tot venea momentul asta”, ma ia cu regret… cu nitica disperare, gen “cum o sa ma descurc io dincolo? aicea ma inchideam in baie si boceam, nimeni nu zicea nimic de ochii rosii”… puteam sa pun si cele mai stupide intrebari (ceea ce am si facut, cu succes) si …

offfffffffff… se duc colegii mei care scoteau o gluma dintr-o nuca :(

7 ani jumate e un timp lung pentru un job, acelasi job. Ce-i drept, aproape 3 ani i-am petrecut acasa, cu copiii, dar mereu stiam ca ei sunt acolo, proiectul e acolo, switchurile-s acolo si ce chestii asa mari sau noi pot aparea, incat sa ajung sa plec?
Well, din cand in cand mai apar si chestii pe care nu le poti controla, si atunci alegi… sau aleg altii… dar cumva alegi.

And I’m sad :( and melancholic :( si ma duc sa bocesc nitel in baie

wearing stockings
writing emails
wearing that little black dress

i’m disappointed and i don’t believe in anything, but in their smiles.
but i have to walk on.
in less than 7 days, i’ll be 30.
30 years of asking why and how
but only to myself…

i used to fantasize that my work matters,
that my switches work for nasa,
that they might help people reach the stars

now i’m disappointed
i know they don’t
no platform is mine anymore,
’cause i work on all of them
people don’t use what i do
it’s just a must-have,
’cause others have it, too.

my work doesn’t matter,
and that matters a lot to me.

all that you can’t leave behind
never ever never
the family
or their remembering
i carry them on my soul
and they run in my cells

and fuck you, mother nature
and biological nature and all

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