dydevil

Hah! Nu prea am mai facut asta. De fapt multe din lucrurile pe care le fac recent… E 4:30 , sunt venit de la banchet, ma injura picioarele in limbi pe care nici lingvistii nu ar putea sa le inteleaga, mi-e somn dar nu pot sa dorm si eu scriu pe blog ( …dupa destul de mult timp si culmea trei insemnari deodata ) . Si brusc m-a apucat o dorinta sa scriu cu diacritice. Nu stiu de ce. Dar mi-a trecut repede aceasta ultima forma de masochism pentru ca e destul de greu sa pastrez si dezvolt trei idei deodata fara sa trebuiasca sa mai adaug si ăîâşţ cand trebuie…Tocmai am realizat ca doua din articole incep la fel asa ca am schimbat unul din ele. E greu la ora asta …. Tocmai a iesit si ultima persoana si acuma e liniste. Mai putin Winamp-ul … Dar eu scriu. Al nabii sa fiu daca ma opresc… I’ve got too much on my mind at the moment. Which is weird, I’ll explain later why. Also I’m ignoring my other two entries in favor of this one. Also, to add to the weirdness, I’ve swapped Romanian for English. Again I dunno why. I wish someone would say something. I drift in thought endlessly sometimes and I REALLY need an anchor sometimes. That’s what people are good for. Also this blog’s spellcheck stopped working. Weird… One of them’s done. The rooster’s bugging me. It’s not ours but some idiot has some chickens and a rooster. In the city. Pseudo-city at least… Anyway… Back to the matter at hand. I finished one of the three. It turned into a big methaphor I’m eager to get feedback on. E 5:07. Mai am pagina de jurnal care nu stiu cat o sa tina si inca o insemnare. I’m gonna try and get in touch with a former classmate. I’m really curious how she’s been all this time after tonight, we haven’t talked in ages… Ma doare capu’ . It must be that JB coming back to haunt me…Se lumineaza. Nu pot sa cred. ) Da o eroare la cealalta insemnare. Mi-e somn. Blogul ma de-logase , ce inteligenta infinita pe programarea lor, lucru care explica si lipsa spellcheck-ului. Am salvat cealalta insemnare. Voi continua, candva. Mi-am dat seama ca desi am multe in cap si capul meu functioneaza pe un sistem de baterii reincarcabile dupa o anumita perioada. Asa ca o sa termin doar asta. A fost frumos azi la banchet, interesant. But it’s over and now we’re moving on. It’s genius if you think about the time of day I’m writing this. It’s early morning. The sun is just rising and sweeping away traces of the night before. It’s genius. Just like that I’m gonna sweep away fears and move forward. I regret nothing. It’s all been one imperfect journey with mistakes, laughter, hate, love, sadness and anger to a perfect ending. I regret nothing and I’d totally do it again, every single detail and every single stupid, retarded, funny and hateful thing. Now I need to take a trip down memory lane for a few … A few I dunno what. I theoretically don’t have the time. But I always have time. I’ll start rereading my blog. I really need to do that. The sun’s up. It’s 5:37. Night….

Suntem victimele viselor si ambitiilor noastre.

Tu esti treaz? De ce? Toti putem sa vedem ce e rau si ce e bine. Toti banuim ca suntem manipulati desi teoretic daca banuiesti sau stii nu mai e manipulare, nu? Si cu toate asta stim. Stim ce e rau in jur si nu facem nimic, ne uitam "incapabili" … Stii ca nu e bine ca totul se face pe "pile" de parca ai fi intr-o puscarie jegoasa in care singura moneda e pila infipta intr-o bucata de paine primita de acasa, pila cu carei mai tai o bara de la fereastrat celulei ca macar sa mai lasi un pic de soare sa intre pentru ca oricum stii prea bine ca nu ai cum sa evadezi. N-ai gresit cu nimic, de ce stai in celula? Usa din fata e mereu larg deschisa, trebuie doar sa treci de cei care-ti blocheaza calea, cei care iti inmaneaza pilele. Dar daca n-ai de cand sa faci asta, daca vrei sa stai in celula ta si sa putrezesti inconjurat de pile ieftine care se strica infipte intr-o paine tare si fara gust atunci mai bine dormi si nu te mai plange ca nu poti sa iesi pe usa… Treaz? Nu esti treaz… tu doar visezi. Ti se pare… Usa? Ce usa? Da-mi si mie pila aia sa incerc sa vad daca pot sa potrivesc lumina ca sa mai citesc ziarul inchisorii…

The round room sat in semi-silence and semi-dark. A few dim lights and a few low voices where all that penetrated the dark and silence. Most of the chairs at the  tables where occupied. An armchair at the back was pointed away making sure the figure behind it was impossible to see. Right besides, on a table that was a bit lower than all the others in almost total darkness someone was scribing into a book. Each time a page was done it would be ripped off and taken into a room at the back , a library, indexed and placed somewhere . In some places the light was gone making recovering the pages there impossible while others, even though cherished where either decayed or lost to time. The person, undistinguishable in the darkness that covered him or her, was now slowly scribing "Silence…. silence… silence…" and then erasing it. In an instant a door in the room burst open and a figure trampled over the silence and darkness talking loudly, eyes almost glowing:
 

 
-But what is reality as it is today if not a vision of peoples past? A saddening reality is, yes, the death of vision but, at the same time is vision not a different shaping of reality and , in the end, is reality not the consequence of vision?

-Hah! Good call. He got you old man, said the man in the tuxedo.

 
-There is a certain deal of uncertainty we can’t ignore-
 
- Following the line of the same idea I propose we never leave our houses on the ground that we might get run over by a car or mugged , said the man in the tuxedo to the man behind the desk with the scales.

-Be silent you maggots… I can’t hear myself think. Your idea is noted. Balance exists . Now take your seat again… I haven’t forgotten about you… we’re just so busy these days… take a seat and do your work…. The voice came from behind the armchair. The room slowly sunk into the same silence it was before.