n-am avut alta idee de titlu, desi gangul ala inca mai exista in amintirea a cel putin doi oameni care si-au pierdut tineretea pe-acolo, sau nu tineretea, ci mai degraba ceva din ce se numea odata romantism. cuvintele vin greu acum, pastrate cu grija insa pentru treburi mai importante, pentru lumi mai bune, chiar daca pentru unii cercetarea inseamna “ia uite-l si pe asta, pleaca in vacanta.”

sa explic. cercetare inseamna sa fii singur si tot atat de curios pe cat te-a lasat mama natura. undeva intr-un loc unde nu te cunoaste nici dracu si nici nu simti nevoia sa vorbesti decat strictul necesar. sa faci ceva ce te priveste doar pe tine. posibil sa renunti la micile fleacuri ale prietenilor tai, din ce in ce mai putini, care se invart pe langa tine, din ce in ce mai rar, dar cu rasetele lor zglobii, cu ironiile lor acide, atat de placute urechilor tale.

au contraire, pe langa unii trec ca si cum ar fi niste mobile fara viata, dar pline de carii. te abtii sa dai un picior zdravan sa nu li se prabuseasca sandramaua, dar asta si pentru ca stii ca pana la urma o mobila e doar un rahat de mobila, si poate ca-i mai bine sa-si gadile singura cariile si sa si le inmulteasca pana putrezeste de capul ei. alta soarta mai cinstita nu exista.

sa declaram asta saptamana scuzelor si a parerilor de rau ale altora care m-au declarat la randul lor cometa cu coada de care nu au reusit sa se prinda. haida deh… la vremea respectiva s-au ofilit de teama sa nu se parleasca si-au esuat mai grasi, mai incorsetati de griji si, uite-asa, tot vrand sa demonstreze societatii ce valabili sunt, au murit pentru totdeauna. nu mai putea societatea de voi… unu pe saptamana pot inghiti, dar trei deodata, mai ceva ca sampoanele, ma lasa rece…

se cauta ispasire, cine o gaseste, s-o declare nula… cam tarzior acum, eu tot cu bagajele la usa, din ce in ce mai experta in plecari. trebuia sa iti dai seama la timp ca libertatea depinde de cat de responsabil esti cu alegerile tale, nu cat de comod iti e la un moment dat si nu-ti mai convine tie mutra unuia, care probabil trece printr-o pasa proasta, adunate si la el garla toate, dar cand si cand, din doi in opt ani ti se mai face dor asa… eu nu ca n-as avea unde sa raman, dar dulapurile alea sunt cam subrede pentru vise. si lumea prea mare… n-am pareri de rau, ori asta poate sa spuna destul despre mine…

Once Upon a Time…

no other idea for the title, although that arcade still exists in memory of at least two people who lost their youth there, or not their youth, but rather something once was called romanticism. words are pointless now, but carefully preserved for more important things, for better worlds, even if for some ignorants research means “look at this one: goes on vacation.”

Let me explain. Research means to be alone and as curious as mother nature built you. somewhere in a place where nobody knows you, where you don`t feel the need to talk than strictly necessary. To do something just for yourself. Possible to give up of small widgets of your friends, increasingly few who swim near you, increasingly rare, but with their lively laughes and with their bitter ironies, so pleasant to my ears.

In the contrary, besides some people I pass like they are some lifeless furniture, but full of cavities. you have to forbear not to hit with your healthy leg and crash their rotten-dusty ramshackle, but that only because you know that a furniture is just a crap furniture, and maybe it’s better for it to tickle its own caries and worms until the middle of its material, until the death of the wood. Another honest fate it`s not possible there.

Let`s declare this week one full of excuses and regrets and sorrows of others who had declared me in their turn the comet with the sparkling tail of which have not managed to clutch. Come on… at that time were wilting by the fear to not burn themselves and have failed and become fatter, more strait-laced and carelessness, so there, all wanting to show society how valid they are, therefore died forever. Yeah right… like society gives a fuck on you or like society knows who you really are… I could stand one in a week, but three guys full of sorrows, like those shampoos, three in one, leave me cold as ice…

is seeking expiation, who finds it, so declared invalid … too little late now, I still on the door with my luggage, increasingly expert in leaving. You gotta figure it out on time: freedom depends on how responsible you are with your choices, not how convenient it is for you at a time and you don`t support other one`s face or figure, which probably going through a bad pass, but when and when, two in eight years you do miss him… or her… As for me, it`s not that I do not have a place to remain, but those lockers are pretty shaky for my dreams. And the world is too large… and I have no regrets, or this could say enough about me …