Sense and Sensibility

Emma

Northanger Abbey

Persuation

The World seems so bright from my window high above. As I am watching people with no
faces, I imagine them to be happy, busy living their lives. So far away, so different
from myself...

The Sun burns my skin shining proud on the blue, blue sky. It hurts my eyes as I lay
in the darkness of my forgetfulness. And though they hurt I cannot see 'cause I am 
blinded, forever cursed to hide from the light of life.

The Sound of Life penetrates my prison and I hate it for disturbing me from my eternal 
sleep. Birds shouldn’t be aloud to sing, wind rustling thru the leaves shouldn’t make 
a sound, all life should stop with me for it is not fair to pain me even more with 
sound and light and Life outside myself.

Oamenii reactioneaza ciudat in fata mortii… uitandu-ma in jurul meu observ persoane afectate chiar si cand nu stiau ce s-a intamplat…doar la gandul ca ar fi putut muri cineva acolo, la vederea baltii de sange… tristi, suferinzi pentru o moarte probabila…

eu… eu glumeam ca trebuie sa fi murit ceva mare ca sa se imprastie atata sange… poate un caine…

Azi a murit un om… a cazut de la etajul 6… si e ca si cum nimic nu s-ar fi intamplat, nu s-a auzit nici un zgomot, nu s-a vazut nici o salvare, nu a aprins nimeni lumanari la locul mortii lui; doar o balta mare de sange mai atesta teribilul accident… Ploua… in curand nu va mai fi nici aceasta, deja apa curata orice urma, purificand locul, siroaie de sange amestecat cu apa se dilueaza iar si iar pana nu se mai observa nimic… oamenii vor uita…

Eu nu voi uita… imi voi aminti… dar asta oarecum nu ma impiedica sa ma uit in jos pe balcon ca deobicei si sa simt imboldul de a ma arunca, fara sa o fac… ca de obicei… ca si cum nimic nu s-ar fi intamplat.

There comes a time when none can handle things very well… no matter how strong one is… there comes a time when nothing matters but dark eyes..dark waters…dark wings…

That time has come… for me…to take away into oblivion once more.

00:00 Se zice ca cineva te iubeste daca te uiti la ceas si e “fix”. Asa o fi! Sunt si oameni pe lumea asta care iubesc suflete pierdute. Asa ca mine. A trecut si ultima zi de Craciun. Anul acesta mi-am pus o singura dorinta. Si nu s-a implinit. Mi-am dorit sa porneasca calculatorul… sa stau tarziu in noapte si sa scriu, sa ma uit la poze vechi. Dar nu s-a intamplat. Si odata cu hardul meu s-au dus si amintirile. Randuri, poze, filme adunate de ani de zile au disparut pur si simplu in neant. Nu este corect. Oricat de sumbre ar fi fost cuvintele mele nu meritau sa dispara fara a mai fi citite, oricat de inestetice erau pozele mele, le-am facut ca sa fie vazute… dar este deja prea tarziu… s-au dus toate. In lipsa calculatorului am iesit in vizita la vechi prieteni. Am ras atat de mult in incercarea de a recupera amintiri si am facut alte poze – sper ca acestea sa nu se piarda… Si totusi… atunci cand esti cel mai fericit, cand zambesti cel mai sincer, cand iti dau lacrimile… atunci simti si durerea ascutita ca mai exista ceva dincolo de fericire – un sentiment mai pur, mai inalt…
Este ceva nou nascut din fericire si tristete…

The first one to welcome Christmas… the season of gifts and joy and peace… is it? Since November I could see shops announcing sales 50% off, Christmas offers on huge panels that glitter in the dark. You see an offer you like and struggle to avoid the crowd in the stores, dig your way to the shaft only to find that the product you want is sold out for some time now. You back away in annoyance and try to search through the other Christmas patterned products. You narrowly avoid getting injured by anxious customers and decide to pay and get the hell out of there… then you see it – the huge line of people with their baskets full of things. You get really irritated until you manage to get out of the store and decide never to go back. Of course… you do, again and again with no apparent reason.

What do you call the feeling beyond regret? There are things one wants to keep as long as possible cause they can never be recovered. What can one do when they know there’s no turning back? How do you describe the feeling between happiness and sadness? In absolute they seem to merge, to form a new feeling… one that can’t be described in words, nor images, nor sounds… yet it exists… impossible, unreal, faded yet alive.. how to put into words what you feel, when you don’t even know? How do we recognize happiness? I don’t seem to know the difference… what’s missing? Is there not more? Happiness is nothing more than momentary peace. Restless, I wonder thought the depth of thought in search of a reason – only one for which I trouble my sanity in search of something that doesn’t exist.

..and if you should awake I’ll send you back to sleep…

sleep

…

sleep

…

I need it… I crave for it. To free myself from my thoughts… from the pain of reason… I need no more of reason… I give you my destiny, I’m giving you all of me, I want to lie back down and let everything go…

But without reason how can I survive? Isn’t my lack of reason that brought me to the point I wanted to have more oblivion, more peace? Yet I cannot have peace while thinking how to dilute the moments I let go…

Inca un drum spre infinit.. spre nesfarsit..

De unde stim de unde vine un drum care duce la infinit? Si daca duce la infinit, nu inseamna ca nu are capat? Deci, ca nu vine de nicaieri? Si daca un drum nu vine de undeva si nu duce nicaieri, atunci de unde stim in ce sens sa mergem? Si daca drumul apartine infinitului, atunci de ce e delimitat; de ce e drum? Daca parcurgem drumul spre infinit de unde stim ca ne miscam? Doar nu avem repere ca sa stim ca am mers. Si daca am merge la infinit, ar conta? Atunci de ce mai merg? De ce cred ca fac ceva?�L Pana acum n-am facut nimic! N-am ajuns nicaieri! Si am pierdut speranta ca “undeva” poate fi atins..

It seems I can’t find pure white anywhere.. I’m starting to wonder how it looks.. what it means..

..and then I knew.. white doesn’t mean good, nor black evil.. they mean only pain.. in not very different ways..

But if white and black are the same.. why are they called different?

I hate pure white.. you’re wrong! Because it’s not pure..