long time no see (and i didn't miss you)

it's been quite a while since i haven't posted anything here, but no biggie.. i'll be back for some fine art poetry so stay tuned.

Don't mind me

As Ii'm writing this I'm sitting on my broken chair which is quite comforting and serves the purpose. There are moments in our lives when we really don't realize the full effect of our actions and most importantly the consequences. We degrade more and more as a society and we, the human beings who form it, are the culprit.
Romania - 10 may 2011.
Another lost soul browsing the biggest realization of modern man kind - the Internet. No more TV for me. It's not that I hate it, nor that I have no cable, but it is for I have no time. school and work. I jump one another with the sole purpose of making my life easier and I do realize that this is the only to achieve it. I have to. Don't be ignorant. You'll have to do it to, unless you were blessed with rich and stupid parents. Mine are poor, but much alike. They do know one thing: how to be a great parent. It's my fault I mostly failed applying their teachings. I'm on the right path though. I will not write about what they taught me.
I have failed as a human being. That is what is important. The problem is that I learn from mistakes, but I rarely get a second chance. That's why we degrade: we fail at reacting with our souls and that is required sometimes.

Some of you might say that our society degrades because of people like me; the ones that use the English language over Romanian...hence the self-loathing.

Dilema

Ati vazut prea bine, ca la consultatii
Doctorii te-ntreaba despre emanatii
Vor sa stie tonul, abundenta, faze,
Unii le zic vânturi, altii le zic gaze.
Dar sa nu va mire daca medicina
Studiaza astazi foarte mult basina
Fiindca-n biologie pentru toti e clar :
A basi e-un lucru foarte necesar.
Toata lumea bese. Asta-i axioma.
Nu intereseaza tonul, sunet sau aroma
În privinta asta toti suntem la fel
Bese si-mparatul în palat la el,
Florea nobilimii, preoti, printi, printese,
Papa de la Roma, bese si iar bese.
Înca-o chestiune trebuie-nteleasa :
Fiecare bese, dar la el acasa !
Fara martori, merge, tare sau încet
Nimeni nu-ti dicteaza ca sa besi discret.
Vrei rafale scurte, sau prelungi sa sune ?
Treaba ta, esti liber, poti sa faci si spume.
Si chiar daca nimeni nu-ti sta împrejur
Poti sa besi în lege, pâna cazi în cur.
Eticheta însa cere sa fii pudic,
Bunul simt pretinde sa nu besi în public !
Ce-ar fi, bunaoara, s-auzi pe cutare
C-a basit în public doamna ... nu stiu care
Sau ca domnisoara, profesoara X
S-a basit în clasa, ieri, la 2 fix ?!
Cum ar fi privite sau calificate ?
Ar mai fi prestigiu, autoritate ?
As, le-ar spune neted "de-al de bese tare"
Cine le-ar mai crede fiinte gratioase ?
Ar fi pur si simplu niste basinoase.
Dar ma-ntorc acuma iar la medicina.
Sa-ti risti sanatatea pentru o basina ?
Sa n-o lasi sa iasa daca esti în public,
Fiindca eticheta cere sa fii pudic ?
În privinta asta sunt pareri mai multe
Cine-ar sta pe toate sa le mai asculte ?
Astfel, dupa unii, poti sa besi oricât
Dar sa stii la vreme sa le strângi de gât.
Poti sa fii acelasi om cu demnitate
De-a le da fâsâite drumu-n libertate.
Asta-i o parere, una dintr-o mie
Dar morala spune ca-i ipocrizie
Ce deosebire e-ntre om si cal ?
Ar mai fi însa si-un aspect moral
Când te-arati în public falnic, gras, falos
Si-n realitate esti un basinos.
Câti nu sunt dintr-astia care bas de zor
Parca stii vreodata ce-i la curul lor !?
Dar ramâne lege ca e indecent
Sa slobozi la gaze de esapament.
Fie, cu morala nu te poti certa
Dar mai iese gazul fara voia ta.
Suiera si geme cu prelung ecou
Iar tu ai nesansa sa fii la birou.
În astfel de cazuri, spune, ce te faci ?
Sa recurgi la scuze, sau sa te prefaci ?
Din experienta, eu va spun cinstit
Ca oricând în viata nu am îndraznit
Sa recurg la scuze; ar fi fost mai rau
Sa roseasca lumea toata-n jurul tau !
Am târsâit un scaun, am facut ceva
Ca sa nu se creada c-am basit cumva.
Si oricât se spune ca sunt ipocrit,
S-au facut si ceilalti ca n-au auzit.
Chiar îndragostitii când admira luna
Cu sau fara voie scapa câte una,
Si cu-o tuse seaca, bine regizata,
Sau cu-o melodie mai pe nas cântata,
Fac ca sa vibreze tot a poezie
Chiar si nedorita, scurta galagie.
Ce-a trecut pin mate si s-a dus în vânt
Si-n care se-ncurca viata pe pamânt
Dar astfel de cazuri, când ipocrizia
Este-asociata chiar cu poezia
Crime moralistii nostri le socot,
Caci morala-si baga nasul peste tot.
În final tot omul se întreaba trist
Sa-l asculti pe medic sau pe moralist ?
Si mai e un lucru, fara vorba multa :
Ce te faci cu curul daca nu te-asculta ????

desire

the cigarette is burning in the ashtray
I want cigars
i'm turning 20 in the month of May
I want on Mars

I'm running naked on the streets of Dogtown
I want a car
this shit is scaring me right now
I want no war

I'm seeing you as days go by
I want you near
you're pushing me away, but I
I will not fear

you put your money on the safest bet
I want that too
some people don't want what they get
but I want you

One the flip side...

Skepticism is what drives intuition. Intuition is a big part of what defines the concept of Genius. In my view, skepticism(not to the extreme) is what differentiates beautiful minds from ignorant ones, true creativity from the unspeakably pathetic routine of our society. Skepticism...my basic foundation. By not believing every single word shoved in your head, by questioning everything in the form of why, how, when and where, by making connections to every related experience you have lived in your "journey through this crazy little thing called life", you are constantly fueling your brain-stem while protecting yourself from the corruption of the big black cock that wants you to wrap your lips around it like a whore and suck hard...MASS MEDIA. MASS MEDIA. MASS MEDIA.


People, "I ain't no goddamn preacher", but the end is near. I am not talking about the end as in apocalypse, but the end as in globalization, where unity of both worlds comes to life, lords of the bling take over every single shred of virgin intelligence and the world, as we knew it comes to die. But the worst part is, that it's all done in such a manner that it resembles the infamous Irish Diplomacy: "The ability to tell someone to go to hell, so that they will be looking forward for the trip". Distraction, Misdirection performed by Harry Fucking Houdini himself and an abundance of euphemisms..

Our first, only and foremost line of defense definitely rhymes with skepticism, you unenlightened tool. Don't go talking shit relying solely on your fundamental frustrations of a pathetic existence. Don't you dare try and shape us now, as we move closer, to the NEW WORLD ORDER.

2011/2

2011 year blog number 2: we all talk bullshit and for a somehow unknown reason we tend to believe what other say until counter-evidence. But is it worth it? Yes. Why? Because if we do not believe them, we will never seek the proof that they were right for we are sufficiently ignorant to slip it. If we believe them, we will go in a journey to find if they're right. I guess what I'm trying to say is this : don't be so fucking non skeptical.

i'm dreaming

a storm is coming. i should go.
it's dark outside and i should know
that it's the end of our relationship

i did my best. i gave it all.
you took the hit so we won't fall
i should be thanking you for that.

but i am gone. i won't come back.
i met someone along the track
and she's two laps ahead.

i'm in the middle of a race.
i have to run to keep the pace
but i keep tripping.

i cannot see the finnish line,
so let's just hope that we'll be fine.
but i want to be certain.

2011

2011 year blog number 1: I hate you all. and there are a few things I’ve learned in my journeys through this crazy little thing called life. 1) a morning of awkwardness is far better than a night of loneliness. 2) I probably won’t go down in history, but I will go down on your sister and 3), while I’m down there it might be nice to see a hint of pubis. I’m not talking about a huge 70’s playboy bush or anything, but just something that reminds me that I’m performing cunnilingus on an adult. but I guess the larger question is why are the angels so hell bent on destroying the female population?

dobitoace

se plimba cerbul printre stanci
si-n curte-noata iapa
si iepurele cade-n branci
in timp ce da cu sapa

dar omul nostru este breaz,
se da cu sania-n pom
si vine calul cel viteaz
si-l face si mai om

avem nevoie de cartuse
de george si de marcu
ca sa de scape de capuse
si-apoi...duca-se dracu'

suntem scapati de cei tirani
dar cel fara de suflet
a fost un timp si marinar
si-acum ne canta-un cantec

Torn

Although it's safe for me to say I fade away
The darkest corner hides my face and it's impossible to play,
But I still struggle and I stay
To play the game I came to play.

It's not because I can't admit
From time to time I get defeat,
But it's because I wasn't hit
So hard to say that I'm defeat.

Now I may be completely wrong
In what regards how to stay strong,
But I am here, writing this song,
That means for me that I am strong.

I made myself perfectly clear
Nothing out there inspires me fear,
But the fact that she's not here,
That made me taste a bit of fear.

She sometimes dances with another
He's not her father or her brother,
But they have something one for each other,
Sometimes I wish he was her brother.

I am undoubtedly retarded
For I have left our apartment,
But I'll be back, don't get departed
I will come back in our apartment.

Now, we may always be apart
And you'll be always in my heart,
But until then I'll always start
A conversation with a fart.

Angel for a night

It's ten o'clock,
Outside it's dark,
I sit here and I drink.
Now why the fuck
Did I go back?
I don't know what to think.

She passes by,
I tell 'er "hi",
She wouldn't talk to me.
I don't know why
She makes me high.
Is she the one to be?

Although it's late
We're on a date
We're going home together.
For some it's bait,
Some call it faith,
But I hope for the better.

Angel for a day

While I sat in this old chair
These odd thoughts have crossed my mind.
Have I chosen the right pair?
Is it love really that blind?
Is it how they say it is?
Is it awkward while it's fun?
It's the synonim of bliss?
Does it rise before the sun?

It was fun for like an year
'till i fucked it up big time.
Suddenly everything's clear
I will never have her mine.
We will always be apart
I will never smell her hair.
I had nothing I could start
While i sat in this old chair.

What she thinks about red roses?
What's her favorite cartoon?
Does she even like old movies?
Does she want to have the Moon?
Does she want to be a mother?
Can I really stitch this bind?
You might wonder why I wonder
These odd thoughts have crossed my mind.

She already has a boyfriend.
I don't even know his name.
Why should I go there and pretend
She's the one for which i came?
I'd be foolish now to trash
The fact that I do not care,
But she made this huge slash.
Have I chosen the right pair?

Many say it goes like this.
Many say that it feels strange.
It's something you don't want to miss,
It goes way beyond your range.
It's a face that wears a mask
It's something one of a kind
You don't know it so you ask
Is it love really that blind?

Many felt it on their own
Many took it far away
But it's something so unknown
You must learn it on your way.
You are your own little mentor
But you'll never know what's this.
Now I ask the Love inventor
Is it how they say it is?

I have played so many games
Since I was like five years old
I've been burned by many flames
But they had always been cold.
Nothing warmed me like this did
Not even the hottest nun.
Have you found something that
Is it awkward while it's fun?

Many words are to describe it
Many words to call it like
If it moves you just a bit
It's the same old fucking strike.
If you're hit you will be leaving
And you'll have it all to miss
Even you will say that dreaming
It's the synonim of bliss.

I would like to have her close
To smell her hair, to smell her skin.
She would daily find a rose
I'll take her where she's never been.
I'll be gentle, she'll be dove
We now are two, we will be one
And she will ask me about love
Does it rise before the sun?

Does it rise before the sun?
It's the synonim of bliss?
Is it awkward while it's fun?
Is it how they say it is?
Is it love really that blind?
Have i chosen the right pair?
These odd thought have crossed my mind,
While i sat in this old chair.