I don’t want to change the world

Nu pot schimba lumea, de asta sunt sigura, nu-i pot schimba nici macar pe cei de langa mine, dar pe mine ma pot schimba oare?

Ti-ai dorit vre-o data atat de tare sa schimbi ceva, pe cineva, chiar si cu putin, incat chiar ai ajuns sa crezi ca o poti face?

Totul e inselator, nu poti schimba nimic si pe nimeni.

Si cand ai realizat ca totul a fost sau este in zadar, cat de dezamagit ai fost?

Imi spunea cineva, candva, ceva ce mi-a ramas in minte: “Sunt un om rau cu intentii bune”. Cred ca asa sunt si eu uneori, am incercat sa schimb cursul lucrurilor, sa demonstrez ca daca vrei cu adevarat, te poti schimba. E totusi o capcana uriasa la mijloc, incerci sa te schimbi, crezi ca o sa reusesti si cand in sfarsit ai senzatia ca ai reusit, atunci cazi si te lovesti cel mai tare si cel mai de sus.

Daca ar fi sa mor in clipa asta, pamantul ar continua sa se invarta, vantul ar continua sa bata si cu siguranta s-ar gasi cineva sa continuie ce-am lasat eu neterminat, asa ca…

Uneori e prea tarziu chiar si petru speranta… Am pierdut prea mult timp in incercarile mele repetate de a schimba, si cu ce rost?

Dissapointed.

 

 

 

Cer si pamant, timp si vesnicie.

 

Intuneric. Simt vantul cum bate. Stau. Nu fac nimic. Cat de placut e sa faci nimic uneori. Ma uit la cer. Cerul e sumbru, grav, plans dar demn. Ma uit la cer si ma intreb daca cerul ma apasa sau pamantul ma atrage. Nu mi-e clar. Cerul ma striga sa ma ridic, ma striga pe nume dar tarana din care sunt facuta ma trage inapoi.

Simt ca mi-e rece, pamantul ma tine lipita de el. Gardul imi scrijeleste spatele si ma trezeste din ganduri ce ma purtau incet departe, mult prea departe de lume si de mine, aproape de a ajunge cerul din urma. Imi schimb pozitia si continui sa visez la cer.

Mi se face dor de mine de acum cativa ani. Ma simt batrana si simt c-o vesnicie a trecut pe langa mine, indepatrandu-ma de esenta mea. Mi-e dor de copilul grasut, cu ochii frumosi si plin de complexe care stia sa se bucure de viata mai bine decat stiu eu acum.

Nu realizez cand trece timpul, e tarziu si nimeni nu-mi simte lipsa. Imi place aici, imi place sa stau doar eu cu mine si cu vantul, si greierii care fac galagie in ganduri dezordonate. Stiu ca trebuie sa plec si incerc sa ridic povara. Sunt eu, mult prea grea pentru mine. Cum ar fi sa pot pleca fara mine uneori? Macar uneori, sa nu ma iau cu mine cand plec. Sa ma uit intr-o cutie din care sa nu pot iesi. Sa nu stiu cine sunt apoi. Eu? Cine sunt? Un sac de pamant peste care a fost suflata traire, atat.

Picioarele-mi sunt grele si ochii mei se chinuie sa vada in intuneric. Trecerea de la cer la pamant e prea brusca. Ma chinui sa gasesc drumul mai mult cu picioarele decat cu ochii, ele sunt mult mai aproape de pamannt. Gasesc o carare, e inca intuneric dar simt ca pe aici au mers multe picioare inaintea mea. Merg incet si drept, intalnesc cateva obstacole dar obstacolele nu mai reusesc sa ma impiedice. Incep sa zambesc larg gandindu-ma ca drumul asta e ca viata, nu vezi nimic inainte dar simti, stii ca te va duce undeva si nu stii unde, cand te astepti mai putin apar obstacole dar neavand de ales, mergi tot inainte.

Pasii mei au mai fost pe aici. Acum e simplu, stiu drumul spre casa, doar uneori cate o lumina orbitoare ma incetineste. Aici, aproape de casa, am impresia ca inteleg perfect ce este un furnicar. Zgomot, lumini, oameni si nu mai pot gandi limpede. Ma scutur in speranta ca ma voi putea intoarce la gandurile mele dar e prea tarziu. E  prea inchis, prea cald, prea stramt, prea multa lume, prea putin spatiu. Vreau sa ma intorc, dar nu pot intoarce timpul. S-a dus furandu-mi gandurile.

Zadarnica-i asteptarea de-a te revedea, pe tine, timp…tu hot viclean de suflete si vise.

Forever yours.

Atunci cand ai nevoie de cineva sa-ti fie alaturi, sa te inteleaga si sa te sustina, indiferent de situatie…atunci, cine? cati isi vor gasi liste interminabile de scuze pentru a fugi de tine?

Cine, cine ste sa planga cu tine pana ramai fara lacrimi si sa nu se mai opreasca din ras cand simti nevoia sa razi? Cine stie sa te asculte fara sa se plictiseasca sau sa urmareasca ceasul din ce in ce mai des? Cine iti asculta cu acelasi interes povestile relatate de zeci de ori inainte? Cine nu te cearta pentru cine esti ci pentru cine ai putea fi? Cine stie sa te incurajeze cand simti ca nu mai ai putere sa continui si sa-ti intinda o mana cand nu mai gasesti motive sa te ridici? Cine stie sa te certe cand ratacesti drumul si incalci ceea ce ti-ai propus? Cine?

Nimeni, nimeni nu stie sa faca toate astea pentru mine. Sunt singura si oricat as evita sa recunosc asta, situatia nu se va schimba. Ceea ce e mai grav este faptul ca realizez cat de singura sunt si nici macar nu mai raman surprinsa. Am invatat sa accept singuratatea si s-o imbratisez cu putere. Fiecare incercare de a ma desprinde de singuratate ma impinge cu si mai mare putere in bratele ei.

Si totusi, poate ca asa trebuie sa fie, sa fiu singura mereu si pentru totdeauna.

Different

Sometimes I wish my life was different but is not. I wish for myself a different path, but I choose my path a while ago and now I can not go back, my legs are tired and I lost my energy on my way here. May be there are some things I would probably do different now, but it’s late for regrets. As much as I would like things to be different they are not. Is useless now to try to change a thing now.

Sometimes I try to lose my shadow, I desperately search for a way to get raid of my shadow, to get raid of the way I used to be, to never know what is it like to be different. Sometimes it works, mostly it doesn’t.

I find myself so many times in situations in which I can not say that I am myself. I rarely have moments of sobriety in which I regret that I am not the old me anymore, I cry but I am aware of the fact that I can not go back in time. A shadow of who I used to be I guess it will follow me for the rest of my life, no matter how much I will run away of it.

Sometimes, I ask myself why was it better the old me than the actual me? Why different in the past was better than the different now? I was different from the way I am now but now I am different from the way I used to be. Witch different is batter?

May be sometimes I try too much to understand myself, without any result. May be I should stop wondering and start living the life I have, the way I have it. May be I’m the same but everybody else has changed, may be…

Dimineata

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1yFwtL22PU

M-ai trezit dimineata cu un sarut, ador cand ma saruti, mi-ai soptit incet la ureche ca ma iubesti si m-ai intrebat daca inca mi-e somn. Stiu ca e tarziu si ma trezesc incet. E ciudat ca esti cu mine acum, cat de mult am asteptat clipa asta. Te iau in brate si te strang indelungat ca dupa o despartire interminabila. Nu vreau sa-ti dau drumul, mi-e frica ca te-as putea pierde din nou. Te privesc cu o privire care te sperie…esti chiar tu, esti aici si esti al meu. Ce lunga a fost asteptatea, ce repede trece timpul. Imi revin in minte regrete pentru lipsa de curaj de a-ti spune ce simt. Iti spun incet: Am nevoie de tine. De ce ti-a luat atat de mult sa te intorci? si tu zambesti. Imi spui ca mereu ai fost langa mine si ca nu vei pleca. Sunt fericita, pot spune in sfarsit ca zambesc sincer. Simt cum fata mea se lumineaza in prezenta ta. Cat dor, cat dor nebun dupa tine, dar nu-mi pare rau, asteptarea a meritat, esti langa mine si e tot ce conteaza.

Imi suna ceasul, il inchid si ma agat cu mainile de tine, nu vreau sa pleci, nu vreau sa ma trezesc.  Doar cateva clipe in plus cu tine, intr-o dimineata in care nu o sa ma trezesti cu un sarut.  Atat de aproape si totusi asa de departe de tine.

Ador fiecare clipa cu tine, chiar si in vis. Nu pleca, esti vis in visul meu.

Pace.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xcw-7fgyg2o

Doar ascultand melodia asta si inchizand ochii…

Simt cum calatoresc, lent, intr-un autocar vechi, pe scaunul de la geam, spre acel loc spre care ma chinui sa ajung de atat de mult timp, dar spre care n-am stiut drumul nicicand. Simt cum las in urma poate prea multe, prea tarziu. Privesc pe geam, sprijinita intr-un cot. Imi place sa privesc, mereu si mereu aceleasi imagini, ca intr-un carrousel. Si totusi ma fascineaza sa ma pierd in ganduri privind pe geam drumuri pe care nu sunt sigura ca le vad. Imi pare rau, nu-mi pare rau ca plec, imi pare rau ca ma indepartez. Imi ascund fata in esarfa mare de la gat si doar ochii mai sunt martorii plecarii mele. Inchid ochii si stiu ca sunt singura pe drum, din nou, dar asta nu ma intristeaza. Drumul nu ma mai infricoseaza. Am plecat de prea multe ori, acum plec impacata. Sufletul meu e linistit. Cu ochii inchisi patrund pana in suflet si aud sunetul pustietatii. E semn ca am reusit sa desprind toate unghiile care ma tineau in urma. Zambesc. Deschid ochii si simt gustul linistii. Rasuflu adanc impacarea. Ochii imi lacrimeaza, nu plang, sunt lacrimi care ma elibereaza. Zambesc si lacrimi mi se joaca pe obraz. Minunat sentiment al acceptarii, cat timp am asteptat sa-mi invadezi sufletul, sa-mi umpli pustiul. Acum, drumul nu pare deloc lung si simt ca sunt mai aproape ca oricand. Ma strang in brate si ma las purtata.

Poarta-ma pe unde sonore, canta-mi drumul, mereu si din nou.

Ma vei uita.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5HV0OD3Umbs

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SJ_7nm7VXKA&feature=related

Tu.

Asa-mi vine sa plang pana cand din ochii mei nu mai poate curge nici o lacrima…

Inchid ochii si sper. Macar Tu trebuie sa fii alaturi de mine.

P.S.: M-am saturat sa se faca presupuneri despre ce scriu si mai ales sa mi se dea sfaruri despre ce ar trebui sa fac. Nu tot ce scriu e 100% adevarat si nu totul e despre mine. Si nu, nu toate posturile sunt despre iubire. Si chiar daca iti lasa impresia ca e despre tine, ca am scris despre tine, cel care citesti, de multe ori nu e asa.

Get out of that box!

Abigail

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2Ma4BvMUwU

Impatient, I walked to the door. I didn’t had to try hard to look upset, I had that look on my face since morning. I twisted the key in the door, one time, two times and it got opened.

There he was, standing still, not saying a word, my brother-in-law.  He was an average guy, not too tall, not too short. His body shape was too revealed by the suit he was wearing. I rarely got to see him dressed in his uniform but I didn’t stop to think why he was wearing it now. He was alone and he was keeping his hat in his hands. While we were looking at each other, not saying a thing, I could feel how his eyes were travelling thru my eyes until the very bottom of my heart, undressing it, leaving it naked. A strange feeling of shame passed thru my body from head to toe. I knew I had to say something but my lips just wouldn’t move. I guess it took me some time until I finally said, with a low voice, not taking my eyes away from him:

-         Gary… what brings you here?

Steven and his brother were close, but not too close. We used to go to his place now and then but the fact that Gary was still single at his 45 years old, was a barrier between us. Everybody in their family was feeling a bit strange while talking about Gary and I knew how much his parents tried to convince him to start his own family.Gary was rarely coming to visit us and he was always acting like he was in a hurry.

-         Can I come in please?

-         I’m sorry Gary. Please, come in.

We both walked to the living room, I was following him, but he knew the house so he seated on the couch. I sat down on the other couch in front of him. We were looking in each other eyes again, but what I felt earlier was gone long time ago. We both knew that this unanounced visit was unusual so I had to ask him:

-         Gary, did anything wrong happen?

By this time I was convinced that this question had hunted my whole day. He stopped looking at me, trying to understand the pattern on the carpet. He looked calm, very profound and somehow lost; he seemed to be another Gary, not the Gary I used to know. I have never seen him this confused.

-         Abbey, we had a call this evening.

He took a deep breath, stopped playing with his hat and rose in his feet.

-         I am sorry Abbey, Steven had an accident. He’s in the hospital but the doctors think he will not make it. I am sorry I have to be the one to tell you this. Believe me, it is not easy for me either. I mean, he was…

I lost him; my mind could not hear anything else but the words “he had an accident” repeated again and again and again. I was still looking at him through a big glass; I could see him but not hear a thing. I was watching him moving around in circles, using his hands to explain something, suddenly bursting to tears, than covering his face with his hands. All this was like a puppet theatre for me as I could not do anything. I was captive in my own body. As much as I wanted to move or say anything, I couldn’t. My body was weaker and weaker and things were moving around caught in a haotic dance.

-         Where am I? Please let me out! Please, I want to see my husband…

Everything was black, and I was falling hopelessly in an endless hole. I was scared and desperately looking for something to save myself. It seemed like infinity until I heard somebody crying my name in the dark. It seemed like the voice was coming to me as it sounded louder and louder:

-                 Abbey!       Abbey!   Abbey!

Abigail

I had a strange feeling of not belonging there. It was looking like my house. I knew for sure that it was my house and yet, something was not quite right, you could feel the air was different. I was feeling it even in my mouth, it was the bitter taste of revenge. Slowly I opened my eyes and struggled to look around. I slept for such a long time, I was almost sure it had to be light outside, but still it was not. My eyes adapted to the light in the room and the room seemed so empty. The clock indicated 7.00 am. It was strange, Steve was usually getting ready to go to work about this time but the house was so still. I was keeping quite in order to listen to him moving around the house. There was no sound of him. I woke up, walking slowly, without turning on the lights, like I was expecting to catch him with something. I don’t know why I did that but it seemed so logic at that time. I went down the stairs, through the living room, to the kitchen. I saw Steve sitting on a stool. He looked so sunken. He didn’t notice me. I tried for a moment to ask myself what could be wrong, what could determine him act this way, and I got with no answer.

-         For how long you’ve been seating there?

I wanted to go and kiss him like in any other morning, but I almost scared him with my presence so I kept my temper not to do it. He suddenly shook his head for a second and bitted his lip, then looked at me with a look that seemed from another world.

-         I just woke up. He answered briefly.

“No, you didn’t, I just woke up.” I wanted to say but instead I said:

-         Did anything wrong happen?

-         No Abigail. I…I was just thinking, I am late for work, I…have to go.

I stood there shocked. I silently watched him passing me. I felt a punch in my head when I heard him calling my name. He never called me Abigail, he was always spoiling me Abbey. Thousand and thousand thoughts caught in a hurricane passed through my brain. Not knowing what to say I just went after him asking:

-         Steve, don’t you want to eat anything?

-         I’m not hungry. I got to go.

-         But Steve… what is happening?

-         Nothing, I mean, nothing important, you just don’t worry. We’ll talk when I come back from work.

There was nothing left I could do. I was sitting in the doorstep, still in my pajamas, with my eyes large opened but my mind running far, far away. I was thinking now at the worst possibilities when a car engine brought me back. I saw Steve leaving with the same harsh look on his face.

All day I tried like crazy to understand. The feeling that I could not live one more second not knowing what is happening  invaded my whole body , making me want to call him. I didn’t called him through. I knew if I did this I was just going to make him angrier. It was very clear for me that I can not call him when he is at work. So I just made myself busy all day long, cleaning the house, doing laundry, watering flowers, even sweeping the leaves from the front porch.

Time was passing by slower than any other time. I sat on my belly on the couch from the living room decided to read. We used to read together before going to sleep almost every evening. As I had nothing better to do while waiting for Steve, and because I just wanted to take my mind away from him, I took Martha Long’s book in my hand and tried to get into the book. But the book was not helping me, the story of an awful childhood made me more depressed. I struggled to read till I saw the watch showing 5 p.m. I knew that around this time Steve would  come back from work. This thought made me anxious.

I waited and waited and waited, but Steve was not showing up and it was late in the night by now. He had his phone closed. I wanted to get out and look for him, but where to start from? And what if he gets home and I’m on the streets looking for him? And what if being alone in the streets somebody would harm me? No, I could not go anywhere. I had to wait.

My body was all cold and white, with a scared look printed on it by the time I got a message from him: “I have to work late. Don’t wait for me”. The moment I saw the message I got angry.

-         “I have to work late?”, that’s all? That’s all??

I was decided to wait for him in the dark until he comes back. I could hear the time passing by and only a few cars heading home would make some light in the room now and then. I was confused, not knowing what to think. It was now very late and I could feel my eyelids going down. I probably  felt asleep, cause I suddenly woke up when I heard a knock at the door. It was him. I fixed my hair, not knowing what else to do. I was ready to confront him. He had to give me an explication.

- to be continued -