intrigue

your smell is blue. i can feel it all over my skin so i take the grater and peel it from within.

i reach my bones and just to see the burns caused by your touch. i remember grievously your clutch.

these scratches can tell the longest story that brings shivers down my spine with every second back in time

and when the clock goes faster by the night, my life is my life still by fright

because suns go down and up again and my fear from you begins to stain.

i feed on such levity and do think that it suits me well. and then i smile and remember the color of your smell.

humanitarian intervention

-You can't fool me. You've gotta free yourself of this burden. Realease it. Let it all hang out.

-My mother was a frigid bitch. My father was an abusive drunk. They had a hateful marriage, which is probably why I am unwilling or unable to form a committed long-term relationship of my own. The fact that I drink like a fish, abuse drugs, and have more or less redefined promiscuity doesn't help, much. As a result, I've lost the two people in my life that mean most to me.

-There. Don't you feel better?

-No. But i'm sure you do.

black mambo

spilled coffee

I love how people focus on wars against crime, wars against drugs, wars against poverty etc . Why don't you focus on promoting peace, healthy living styles and social welfare programs? I do agree that you have to understand the key issue at hand primarily but most of the time it just stops there and it's a continuous vicious cycle that just puts the accent only on that specific thing not its solving.
Saying 'Romania is a shitty country', as most Romanians do, doesn't change it. Actually, it's you that's being shitty by saying that. Next time don't judge the lady at the counter 'cause she took far too long. Maybe you would've done it in twice that time.

I'm not promoting a new text version of kumbaya. I'm just saying this: remember that shitty world that you hate so much? Eh, you're part of it too.
It's so easy to stay on the bars and judge. People like to consider themselves innocent bystanders in this cruel, cruel world. Some people actually suffer in this world but are more prone in finding a solution to that suffering then the people that aren't. You take your rights for granted while for example in Indonesia women are beaten/+ raped to death by their own husbands 'cause they feel like it.
Be grateful for what you have, be aware of the problems in the world/your country and be active in finding and promoting solutions.

braɪtən

geeky paradise. 99p store. lack of good cheese. overdose of chocolate milk. tons of books. two broken bags. pretty umbrella. annoying adds on youtube. the smell in the law section. too much italian coffee. indian food. romanian pickles. cheap speakers. trololo. lack of sleep. free before 9. 2 4 1 drinks. sweet chilli sauce addiction. extremely nice neighbours. creepy attic. day savers. too many coins. getting lost. charity shops. inbox full. missed calls. ugly beach. pretty channel. eating bday cake on the street. jack skiellington. laughter without reason. lack of cuba libre. bad wine. shandy. seaching for one clean glass ( never finding it). pretty painted mirror. skull goblet. primark. finally online banking. skype. group messages on fb used as chatting rooms(celebrated 1000 - we should be studied). mom using ym (sweetest). free minutes. pretty living room collage. on switch! fire alarms. O. muddy paw prints. signalongs. stupid smile.

poveste

A fost odata ca niciodata un nene caruia ii vom zice Boston fara 5. Eh, acest Boston fara 5 a scris el mai de mult o carte ‘Adunarea Digitala si Maiastra a Adunarii ‘ de care tot regatul Parasutist asculta. Dupa multi ani de pace in domnie, cu micile scapari, ba la crasma ,ba la sindrofie, a venit potopul. Prea maretul Boston fara 5 si Mucia Boda au fugit in lume cu pamfletul plin de legi. Tot regatul era disperat. Poporul protesta, haosul se instala iara vinul in pahar ramanea. Pe alocuri se auzeau tipete de disperare, foamea de note muzicale devenise si mai apriga pana cand Bad Cel cu Mana de Fier si Barba de Plastelina a preluat controlul. ‘Spalacita va fi noul meu consilier. Ea va asculta cererile poporului in timp ce va ofta si isi va vocifera necazul propriu’ Si asa a ramas.

Spalacita a decis sa isi ia ajutoare, caci pana la urma cat sa oftezi de la 12 pana la 14, ca te mai ia si plictiseala. Lucrurile incepusera sa mearga din rau in mai rau. In lipsa de orice lege, cozile la consiliere deveneau interminabile asa ca unul din consilieri care avea doi poli ce se intalneau simultan nu a mai rezistat, si-a luat boceluta si-a plecat. Spalacita zgarcita din fire n-a mai vrut un ajutor. ‘Unu e mai bun ca doi mai mereu. Si asa sa fie’. Iara saracul ajutor ramas nici nu stia dialectul parasutist bine. Era mic si el ,speriat din cale afara ,astfel incat cand veneau fel de fel de straini sa ceara ajutor, zicea mereu ‘Nem tudom.'

Batranii ,care traisera inainte in Regatul Parasutist, stiau ca deh asa ie in politichie. Incet, incet se obisnuisera cu taramul fabulos al orelor pierdute aiurea si al dialectelor neintelese cu iz intelectual si se mai mandreau la bautura ca au ajuns oameni instruiti in de-ale nimicului. Era totusi ceva ! Dar acum nici toata posirca din regat nu mai spala rusinea. Pana in ziua de azi, taramul minunat exista. E mic, dar are cafia, e plin de oameni, dar oameni sunt abia. La poarta iti lasi judecata si simtirea caci de nu, strambele si depravarea sigur ti le vor fura.

valenţă

Haha. Ce ma? Si tu colorezi? Eh, nu-mi mai spune. Si ce colorezi tu? Viata? Ti-o faci mai frumoasa? Cu o sticla verde sau maro? Nu de alta dar mie imi place aia verde mai mult. Cand eram mai mica mereu o decojeam si faceam tot felul de forme pe ea. Cica esti frustrat sexual daca faci asta. Auzi! Se pare ca aveam dorinte strivite de pe atunci. Pai, hai! Zi-mi! Povesteste-mi de cum manjesti tu coala. Nuuu! Stai! Nu arunca cu albastru! Sau..?! Ti-o fi dor, a? Bine hai. Acolo, in colt, un pic. Pune si galben ma, sa fie cald. Asa. Iti aduci aminte bag de seama. Da si eu. Doar ca era cam verde atunci. Dar nu, nu. Nu ca sticla. Si tu erai un pic mai alb asa. Ce zici? Da, ai dreptate. Amandoi eram. Eh ..in fine, da. Hai, mai pune un pic de galben ca mi-e frig. Mai mult ma, da. Uite, asa e bine! Pai e... cred ca e gata, nu? Ce e negru acolo? Ah. Ce frumos... din partea ta dar era mai lung. Lasa, e bine si-asa. Pai, stai! ...Nu, nu! Sterge! Uite! E prea mult gri si sunt prea multe arcuri luminoase. Nu o sa iasa bine. Nu, nu. Stiu eu! Am mai desenat asta! Sterge! Cum sa nu poti? Intelege! Daca nu schimbi culorile intre ele o sa iasa la fel si, si, eu nu mai pot sa creionez asa. Mereu ajung la rosu. Te rog, sterge pana cand creionul meu rosu nu se termina caci asa am ramane blocati si, si asta ar fi definitia nebuniei. Da,da. Adica sa combini mereu acelasi culori si sa vrei sa iti iasa altceva. Nu iese! E acelasi lucru cu miros placut de violet dar cu umplutura de visiniu. Hai, trage tu de coltul ala si eu de aici. Da..trebuie! Altfel... altfel nu o sa mai desenam ceva diferit niciodata. Si, si ...eu vreau sa mai desenez. Bine, nu acum... dar cine stie, poate, candva, o sa mai vreau.

incapacidade