Things of Life

     Tanța iesise de timpriu. Se dusese în locul acela sumbru, de care oamenii se întreabă adesea in drumul lor pe pamant. O boala năprasnică. A lăsat în urma un soț în putere ce și-a venit în fire repede, o fiica așa de rănită ca niciodată nu i-a trecut în întregime, un ginere ce plângea ca un copil, mai ales când o lua la măsea, și o nepoata micuța ce dădea și ea în plâns, înainte de culcare, când umbrele nopții se plimbau pe pereți ținand-o de veghe.        Un timp, fără Tanța în casa, cei rămași păreau sa orbecăiasca cumva, ca deh... ea fusese sufletul familiei--cu ciorbele și cornulețele ei de sărbători, căciulile și vestele tricotate la toți, plus florile din curte. Căci zicea ea--cu un spirit tenace și dornic de viață-- fericirea se compune din lucrurile mici. Coșul ei cu gheme a rămas o vreme nemișcat pe sala, parca în așteptarea unor mâini anume, ce ar mai scoate din materie vreo măiestrie...      Tanța venise prin partile alea ...

     Câteodată trecem pe aici...       ... noaptea disperării este una fără stele.       Când spun stele, mă refer la un contur oricât de firav de lumina ce răzbate prin întuneric și creează o forma oarecare.      O așa noapte  e de un întuneric absolut.       E noaptea disperării p entru ca nu e nicio referință și mărimea întunericului nu este percepută...      ... el pare fără margini și imposibil de trecut. În realitate, intunericul poate fi mai mare sau mai mic, numai în jurul tău chiar. Dacă doar ai știi...       În noaptea disperării întunericul te împunge și doare; simți ca nu poți rezista.       Sinucigașii nu pot trece de noaptea asta. Dacă doar ar răbda, sa vadă mijirea zilei...       Dacă treci de noaptea asta devii mai puternic. Dimineața ești epuizat, dar totuși intunericul spulberat nu te mai împunge...  ...

In the desert, thoughts and memories float low-- They don't run with the clouds like when it rains. Above a dry lake, they seem frozen; Their vibration stirs the sand, however... I knead on them and it's very quiet, While salty water falls down my skin...

40s . The age of consciousness. I embrace this self of mine, when it's harder to be deceived, when I am conscious of everything. There is tremendous peace here... Like the peace at the Equator line... 30s . Losses and gains. They do not cancel each other as in math, they just add up...My own personal luggage... 20s . Grabbing things as they come, and thinking a bit of what they are... Adolescence . Scratching the surface of things, of me... Childhood . Looking around, touching this and that, absorbing...

     There are rocks and waves here. Rocks are rather unmovable boulders on which we build things. We cannot live without them. Life on rocks is safe, stable, and comfortable, but at one point it tends to be monotonous, and one may look towards the waves with desire. Gazing at the distant waves, one longs to be there...      So, you may go with the waves no matter what. They can take you to unimaginable heights and you feel like flying, but if you did not master enough life on the waves, you may plunge to the deep and be turned upside down. Sometimes, you may never return to the surface.       Even when you are skilled enough with life on waves, it's always a challenge to maintain balance because they are the most unpredictable and slippery, while too much motion makes you dizzy and no longer enjoy the exhilarating heights. Then you may see the unmovable rocks as the most beautiful after all, and revere the luster of their surface that s...

     Lots of rainbow flags in this city. Rainbow fences. Rainbow this, and that. Pride, they say.       The society tells gay people they should be proud of this lifestyle. I would be harshly judged if I would tell them, even as an act of empathy, they need therapy. I believe it is some sort of misalignment or disorder when, for example, a person born with a male sex displays a woman-like behavior and looks for a relationship with a man. Something might have happened in their brain or as far as hormones even when they were still in the womb... hard to know. Others, if they are not born this way, may become gay at some point during their lifetime, often as a consequence of certain experiences. Still, society tries to assure  everybody that any scenario is normal.      On the other hand, a religious person may jump like burned at the idea that a gay person may be born this way because--they argue--God could not have created them like ...

Nothing compares with truth!  At times it's uncomfortable, hurtful, violent, nasty, but in the end it's healing, and you long for it.  It rips off your clothes and cuts through flesh, so you find yourself naked, bloody, but real.  The opposite of truth may be sweet, soft, sickly instead. Like a cold, very cold shower-- not pleasant, but necessary. The after-sensation is worth the ordeal--you feel more alive than ever. Warm makes you slumber, but cold sends you to the mountains in the middle of the night.

Aud vocile copiilor Afara, ca un murmur, În timp ce văd frematat de frunze Verzi, in lumina ude. Si deodata parca sunt eu copilul Trezit la ora după-amiezii De clinchetul de vorbe jucăușe Ce mă cheama la poarta...

     There is beauty in certain objects. More than that, the beauty of some lasts through decades and centuries. So, I like to look at vintage objects, and discover that some features remain timeless. I may feel in luck if I find something that I resonate with for a bargain price (like today). What a find, how come people can get rid of this, I may ask myself...?       Early in the morning dealers check adds for estate sales, garage sales, or moving sales and rush there in the hope to get objects cheap and sell them for a lot more.       I step back to ponder... Many people no longer need such beautiful objects because they are dead. Those who inherit what it had been gathered throughout a lifetime cannot keep everything--they have their own.       I fall into thinking that I am rescuing a beautiful object by giving it a stable space where it's admired and regularly dusted, but the reality is that I am no differe...

Mi-am găsit un loc langa un conifer vârstnic Proptit în mal ca un stâlp de siguranță; De aici privesc viața, Și printre stânci cu mușchi Susurul de apa m-alina...

     Quite an exciting day... Little Forest and her grandparents jumped in the sky-colored car and drove to the nearby city. They got to its outskirts, in a neighborhood with closely gathered houses and narrow alleys. The family went to a particular house, walked to the backyard, and there she was: a female dog and her puppies. A decision was made to pick the one white as milk cream, also a female. Soon, the little dog fell asleep on the back seat of the car. A soft luminous bundle on the reddish upholstery.      What a joy for Little Forest to grow up with such a creature! Finishing  kindergarten, the girl was ready for first grade. She would just wait to come back from school and play with her dog. They called her Pearl,   as she was nothing less than a lively bright spot moving quickly through the grass, when running happily and freely around the house. Pearl was the beauty of the neighborhood, a shorter breed with a foxy face and fluffy tail c...