John Lennon - God ( December 11, 1970)

God is a concept,
By which we can measure,
Our pain,
I'll say it again,
God is a concept,
By which we can measure,
Our pain,
I don't believe in magic,
I don't believe in I-ching,
I don't believe in bible,
I don't believe in tarot,
I don't believe in Hitler,
I don't believe in Jesus,
I don't believe in Kennedy,
I don't believe in Buddha,
I don't believe in mantra,
I don't believe in Gita,
I don't believe in yoga,
I don't believe in kings,
I don't believe in Elvis,
I don't believe in Zimmerman,
I don't believe in Beatles,
I just believe in me,
Yoko and me,
And that's reality.
The dream is over,
What can I say?
The dream is over,
Yesterday,
I was dreamweaver,
But now I'm reborn,
I was the walrus,
But now I'm John,
And so dear friends,
You just have to carry on,
The dream is over.

Undo

Exista momente in viata in care stii ca ceea ce vei zice sau face in urmatoarele momente va schimba cursul vietii, linia pe care mergem in fiecare zi incercand sa nu cadem de pe ea. Acele momente iti raman in minte sub forma unor imagini, „flashback”, imagini ce te urmaresc sub forma gandului „si daca atunci faceam altceva”...

Daca acele momente ar putea fi accesate precum pozele .jpg si apoi sa reluam totul altfel, si daca nu ne place sa revenim din nou si sa tot revenim pana ceea ce facem pare corect, apoi sa dam peste alt „flashback” si tot asa sa reconstituim totul pana in momentul in care inevitabil murim..poate atunci viata ni s-ar parea corecta.

Dar viata nu e corecta, si asta o stim cu totii, iar momentele acelea par atat de inevitabile incat ma intreb daca ar trebui sa putem schimba ceva la ele...pt ca totusi acele momente ne definesc, ne dau posibilitatea de a zice „asa sunt eu, si altul/alta mama nu mai face”.

Si daca asta e una din chestiile pe care le putem considera ca fiind definitorii pt fiecare dintre noi, ce s-ar intampla daca totusi am putea intra in memoria....computerului din capul nostru..si sa dam undo la tot ce am facut pana la momentul filmului respectiv?...Asta inseamna ca restul elementelor definitorii ar influenta ce gandim ca ar trebui schimbat..si atunci acele schimbari ar deveni tot definitorii?

Oare cati dintre noi ar alege, in cazul in care doar o schimbare ar fi posibila, sa schimbe ceva in cazul unei persoane iubite pierdute, si cati ar alege sa schimbe o decizie in afaceri? Asta asa ca tot vine anul nou si toata lumea face planuri pt anul care vine si cam toti vor sa schimbe cate ceva.

Altruism

The perfect love story…boy falls in love with girl…girl falls in love with boy…and the two of them grow old together and live happily ever after…
During your lifetime you meet approximately 2000 people. I mean the ones you talk to, not the ones you ran into or see on TV…How many of them do you know that fit this perfect love story? I believe… none.
Is it hard to grow old and live happily ever after? Perhaps not…but what if we were on a planet same as ours, but with different values, different as if we wouldn’t consider feelings as important as they are now…and the most important thing aside from money was altruism…??? And somewhere along the line of history being kind to the next person became the most important thing? Perhaps when human emotions became more important than power over a land or ruling the world…Is altruism part of the human behavior today? Certainly not! Think about it! Would any of you give a hug to a person obviously sad sitting next to you in the subway? No, because you don’t know that person. Do you have to get to know a person to tell whether he/she is sad? Obviously not!
Everyone’s beliefs depend on social background, and when love ends (whatever kind of love it is), a part of their social existence changes. They become more experienced and more reliable considering the fact they are now more aware that everything has an ending.

Imagini in mintea lui

Un telefon suna ciudat de partea cealalta a zidului. Camera de hotel e goala, dar primitoare cu lumini calde din toate partile si culori deschise si vii la draperii si asternuturi. Nu se aude nici un sunet, in afara de acel telefon la care nu pare sa raspunda nimeni. Oglinda de deasupra noptierei, mare si cu decoratii stupide pe margini, reflecta farurile orasului inca in cautarea linistii. Ferestrele sunt acoperite, dar din cand in cand lumini de toate felurile strabat perdele si lumineaza camera si mai mult. In baie robinetul stricat elibereaza cate o picatura „chinezeasca”, parca anuntand o furtuna care intarzie sa apara. Pe pat e un tip. Ciudat, cu parul ciufulit, fata brazdata de dezamgire, sta cu ochii inchisi. Este imbracat de parca ar vrea sa iasa, si totusi sta pe pat deasupra asternuturilor, incaltat, nu face nici o miscare. Incearca sa simta ceva in jurul lui, dar nu poate. In mintea lui, camera se micsoreaza si se indreapta rapid catre centrul creierului sau si se micsoreaza pana se prabuseste exploziv, apoi trece la alt gand, si gandurile se deruleaza rapid si trec pe langa el, iar el le priveste de parca n-ar fi ale lui si se uita la ele ca niste imagini pe un ecran al monitorului. Incepe sa simta pulsul cum creste, ca un fel de palpitatie a simturilor, si tot creste pana incepe sa doara, si imaginile din capul lui se deruleaza din ce in ce mai repede si-si da seama ca imaginile sunt tocmai pozele lui, pozele care le-a salvat saptamana trecuta pe un disc, si pulsul ii creste mai mult cand isi da seama ca sunt ca o succesiune de evenimente din viata lui si incepe sa-i fie frica de parca ar fi ultima pe care o va vedea vreodata. Se intreaba panicat daca asta ii este moartea, daca totul se va sfarsi in acea camera de hotel, apoi isi aduce aminte de camera si obiectele din jurul lui, ca o ultima incercare de a se agata de realitatea inconjuratoare. Pusese prosopul cam stramb dupa ce facuse dus, si uitase sa scoata laptopul din priza. Atat putea sa-si aminteasca. Pentru nu stiu ce motiv ochii pareau sa nu-l asculte, refuzau sa se deschida. Pe noptiera din colt, lasase o foaie. Nu putea sa-si aduca aminte ce a scris pe ea. Gandurile s-au oprit in momentul in care camera si obiectele ei au incercat sa-l aduca la viata, dar foaia si refuzul ochilor de a se deschide au adus succesiunea lor rapida din nou, ca si cand au fost puse pe pauza. Apoi s-au oprit brusc. O pagina de internet explorer a ramas blocata. Era pagina ultimei cautari. Erau niste pastile pentru somn. Avea insomnii de cand se stia si se pare ca acele pastile urmau sa-l ajute. Insomniile lui n-aveau legatura cu vreo boala si nici macar nu erau ca de obicei insotite de migrene. Erau pur si simplu o alta incapacitate, cea de a dormi. Ochii inca nu se deschideau, dar privirea din minte se indrepta brusc catre noptiera. Deasupra foii de acolo...erau pastilele. Sa fi adormit? D-aia se simtea asa? Dar somnul trebuia sa fie odihnitor si se simtea de parca in noaptea aia alergase distanta de la maratonul local. Capacul cutiei era langa cutie. Si paharul de apa n-avea pic de apa. Poate a luat prea multe. Panica il cuprinse brusc si incerca sa faca o miscare dar aceasta incercare nu facu decat sa readuca imaginile care acum se derulau prea repede si nu putea sa distinga nimic...creierul nu-l asculta si nu mai trimitea mesaje catre corp, ci doar catre minte. Mai repede insemna sa se deruleze imaginile mai repede. Ii e frica, dar nu stie de ce. Poate ca ii e frica sa nu se termine imaginile. Si daca se termina imaginile, ce urmeaza? Linistea aparu brusc dupa intrebarea asta, de parca auzul i s-a deschis si nici telefonul de alaturi nu se aude, dar nici zgomotul de afara. Poate e fereastra inchisa. Da. Sigur e inchisa. Nu poate fi nimic bun la linistea asta. Daca incearca sa se miste ar putea reveni imaginile. Si nu sunt asa multe. Pe obraz simti ceva. Era umed. Sa fie tavanul care picura? Dar nu e la ultimul etaj. Sunt lacrimi. Dar de ce sa fi plans? Doar e barbat si toata viata a tinut piept la orice cu capul sus si fara a arata vreo slabiciune de felul asta. Ce cliseu idiot...si parca ceva incearca sa-i spuna ca de data asta e diferit totul...ca acum, desi nu se intampla nimic, lacrimile erau justificate. Din dragoste nu puteau fi, fusese singur de prea mult timp. Nu murise nimeni recent. Noptiera din colt reveni printre imagini. Dar acum parca incerca sa priveasca foaia sa vada ce-a scris. Incepea ciudat. Scria „ Sa nu plangeti ca voi fi cu voi mereu”. Dar el nu credea in fantome sau viata de dupa, dar stia ca cei care contau pentru el cred in asa ceva si incercase sa nu-i supere prea mult, desi si ei stiau ca el nu crede, inca un motiv ca ei sa aprecieze foaia de pe noptiera. Lacrimile devin justificabile, e clar ca luase prea multe pastile si cand a cascat miscarea fetei a provocat lacrimarea, si era obosit pentru ca a scris prea mult. Dar era o singura foaie, de sa fi obosit? Panica il cuprinde din nou si imaginile revin inevitabil si el incearca sa le opreasca spunandu-si ca nu vrea sa le vada. Dar imaginile nu pot fi oprite. In toata agitatia asta a uitat de ce venise la hotel. Totul se scufunda in liniste.

Lumini albaste si rosii strabat succesiv perdeau camerei de hotel. Oameni in halate verifica aprente. O targa a unei salvari intra in camera, se opreste incarca un corp, apoi se indreapta inapoi catre salvare. Nici o masca de oxigen, nici un defibrilator. Un politist noteaza detaliile. Camera se inchide cu cartela, si nimeni n-ar fi putut intra. Toata lumea pleaca. Geamurile sunt deschise. Lumina se stinge.

The storyteller

How hard is it to invent a story? The context? You’re meeting old friends and you don’t want to tell them…your life sucks…you are stuck just as much as the next person in the usual day-to-day routine, your love life is as boring as next fellow’s, no amorous escapades and the job doesn’t bring as much satisfaction as you would like.
So, since by now everyone is familiar with lies, and the fact that everybody lies, you decide to re-invent your life. Most people, thinking about this, would say that it’s easy, that the lie you are about to tell is the fantasy life you’ve been planning when you have nothing to do. Right? So you don’t tell them that your schedule sheet is blank, you tell them you have plenty to do. For example, running in the park where btw you met an incredibly beautiful girl that you swept of her feet by telling her she didn’t need to exercise and that she reminded you of your ex which is painful because you are so romantic and the bitch cheated and then she takes you back to her place for an afternoon treat. That kind of story telling. Even though this sounds like penthouse forum.
But what if the storyteller isn’t satisfied with just telling that story? So, he decides to embellish it as much as he can, within the limits of reality. So he decides to tell them that he called the girl and she agreed to go out with him since she had such a great time the other day. Would that story become the new fantasy life? And if so, would the story teller want that life for real? And if he realized that the invented life is possible and that it could be more than fantasy, would he pursue it? What would happen then? Would he be happy since his original life story wasn’t enough for him to tell? Probably not. Because even though most beautiful girls are gullible and most of them had issues with former boyfriends therefore are easily impressed by stories about the ex, they wouldn’t look at guys in need of gym practice and runs in the park. Or if they did look, it wasn’t for afternoon delights.
Morality comes to mind, since morality is highly linked to religion, and there are a few capital sins involved like lies and coveting.
Is it a sin to dream? Do the sins that we imagine count as the real sins?

ps. this story does NOT depict in any way real persons or events of real life...they only exist in my imagination..also called the twilight zone...

SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY

by: George Gordon (Lord) Byron (1788-1824)


She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

System Error

Scopul….se pare ca nimic nu exista fara un scop…orice picatura de apa, orice cladire cu multe etaje, orice fiinta sau creatura insufletita, toate au un scop…dar toate, picatura de apa care pana la urma cade si se sparge in mai multe picaturi, cladirea care se darama la vreun cutremur, fiintele care mor, toate au un sfarsit inainte sau dupa ce si-au indeplinit acel scop. Acest scop lipseste…si pare cel mai important…in viata tot ce facem, facem pt a nu muri desi stim ca vom muri; ironic, dar fara scop viata e neinsemnata….tot ce facem practic e inutil pt ca vom muri indiferent daca am trait bine sau rau sau moral sau imoral sau saraci sau bogati sau prosti sau savanti sau populari sau tirani….si daca n-am trai? Ce-ar fi?...nimic... Individual suntem neinsemnati, poate si ca specie suntem neinsemnati, pt ca planeta va fi aici si dupa ce specia dominanta in aceste milenii va disparea.
Dintr-o perspectiva larga, ceva lipseste, ceva acolo la inceputuri lipseste…planeta practic exista ca o masinarie ce functioneaza fara un manual de instructiuni…din punctul nostru de vedere, al oamenilor, scopul ar fi…sa traim…dar pt ce sa traim? Ca sa ce? Sa ne distram, sa suferim, sa ne iubim, sa invatam, sa ne luptam, sa perpetuam specia, dar pt ce? La ce ne folosesc toate cele ce putem face intr-o viata daca tot se termina? Si nu doar pt noi…totul se termina…din punct de vedere al speciei umane numarul specimenelor ne va distruge, suntem condamnati sa ne autodistrugem si tot ce am facut in milenii de existenta va fi fost pt ce? De exemplu un filtru de cafea este creeat si utilizat de oameni pt a face acea licoare care ne trezeste dimineata; oamenii insa sunt nu numai inutili pt ca nu fac nici macar planetei vreun bine(vezi cutremure din miscari de falii tectonice posibil provocate), dar nu au un scop sau destinatie specifica…macar filtrul de cafea daca ar fi constient ar sti ca daca tot se strica a avut scopul de a face cafea…Singura varianta ce mi-a trecut prin cap ar fi ca suntem aruncati izolat intr-un univers oarecar ca un experiment sadic--un software test, pt a vedea pana cand si cum evoluam in conditiile unor defecte majore si cu tendinte autodistructive innascute; ca tot crede lumea in “dupa chipul si asemanarea Lui”--doar ca noi suntem un fel de varianta beta a unui software fara unele din defectele de care noi “beneficiem” in fiecare zi--pacat totusi ca din cate imi dau seama si software-ul creator are defecte majore…

John Lennon - Imagine(1971)

Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=okd3hLlvvLw

Sunteti PSIHOTICI!

Definitia psihozei: Tulburare mintala caracterizata printr-o dezorganizare a personalitatii, pierderea simtului realului si transformarea in delir a experientei traite. (http://www.informatiamedicala.ro/dictionar-medical/p/psihoza-5273.html)

Hmm...daca ne gandim bine…parca suna cunoscut…sa nu devenim ipohondri din prima…ma refeream doar la nevoia tuturor de a crede in ceva…uneori pana ajungem sa fim psihotici…si credem in prieteni imaginari. Ne place sa ne mintim singuri… in speranta ca nu suntem suntem asa de rai cum s-ar putea crede… Printre principalele simptome ale psihoticilor este pierderea simtului realului. Stateam ieri in metroul plin si langa mine o doamna in varsta. Citea o carticica, si ma gandeam ca ar fi un manual de utilizare pe care n-a apucat sa-l citeasca acasa. Nope. Era o carticica de rugaciuni. Si femeia proceda asa: citea rugaciunea, inchidea ochii, apoi dadea pagina. Era foarte serioasa in ceea ce facea, asa ca a uitat sa coboare unde trebuie…probabil problemele pe care le avea impreuna cu concentrarea asupra rugaciunilor erau prea mult ca sa mai poata fi in contact si cu lumea exterioara acelei cartulii micute(in valoare de 5lei, dar asta e alta poveste). Nervoasa fiind, pt ca ratase iesirea din tren, femeia a inceput sa pufneasca si sa se uite stanga-dreapta, de parca ar cauta pe cineva pe care ar fi intrebat :De ce nu mi-ai zis ca trebuie sa cobor?...apoi, a inceput sa murmure ceva…era…”fir-ar al dracului, iar intarzii”..Cateva priviri din zona din care venise o facura sa-si aduca aminte ce avea in mana…carticica de rugaciuni...asa ca a continuat…”doamne iarta-ma”. Iata, deci, un credincios crestin ortodox obisnuit. Nevoia ei de ajutor in problemele cotidiene era evidenta, iar carticica de rugaciuni pare a fi strigatul dupa ajutor, catre o putere superioara omului, cineva care ar putea s-o ajute neconditionat. Cred ca asta e singurul scop benefactor al religiei. De “tamaduire” psihologica. Pe de alta parte, toata aceasta poveste ma duce cu gandul la prietenii imaginari ai copiilor. Doar ca de data asta e vorba de adulti, de fapt de un extraordinar de mare procent din intreaga populatie de adulti a planetei. Iar prietenul imaginar este comun. Are mai multe nume si o carte…poveste destul de groasa. Asa cum copiii se uita la desene animate si-si imagineaza ca eroii ar fi reali si au superputeri si fac lumea mai buna, cam asa folosesc adultii religia…In “desenul animat” pt adulti avem personaje magice precum ingeri si arhangheli, din tabara celor buni, demoni si spirite malefice, din cealalta tabara, apoi conducatorii celor doua tabere ambii cu nume diverse in functie de zona de provenienta a povestii. Dupa un anumit timp, copiii se maturizeaza si descopera ca povestile pe care le credeau in copilarie nu sunt adevarate, ca nu exista nici Superman, nici Spiderman, nici Mos Craciun, nici Mos Niculae, nici Iepurasul de Pasti, niciuna din aceste povesti nu sunt reale. Dar adultii…adultii au povestea lor si refuza sa creada ca ar putea fi ireala. Cu toate ca au foarte multe motive. Dar aceste motive par sa dispara pt ei atunci cand ceva bun li se intampla pe parcursul existentei chinuite de conflicte psihice si cateodata fizice. Cand ceva bun se intampla, ei multumesc acelui personaj pozitiv din povestea aceea veche; dar cand ceva rau li se intampla, ei, atunci e atunci, ca nu se stie daca si-a bagat coada necuratul sau e vina lor, un alt conflict nerezolvat de “poveste”. Dar povestea parca garanteaza ca daca e sa fie ceva de bine trebuie sa multumim celui de sus…
Sa fie aceasta psihoza generala numita religie simptom al bolii generale ..moartea?
Poate ca oamenii au si altceva in plus fata de celelalte animale…posibilitatea de a evita moartea…poate ca trebuie doar sa determinam cauza fizica, probabil intr-o zona a creierului, care determina acest “simptom”, nevoia de o putere superioara…toate celelalte psihoze au simptome vizibile in creier…de ce nu si acesta?…poate ca atunci ne vom putea folosi intreaga capacitate a creierului; si atunci acest “simptom” va disparea indeplinindu-si scopul, sa ne salveze…

Manifest apocaliptic

Plictisiti ne intoarcem acasa cu capetele plecate...peste tot mizerie..peste tot dezamagire...peste tot teroare...suntem impinsi in teroare...un val de nebunie parca a cuprins pe toata lumea si toata lumea se intoarce asupra celor care incearca sa tinda catre normalitate...daca nu stiti ce e aia normalitate...este o viata medie...nici prea exuberanta...nici „de rasul lumii”... in care duci un trai decent...te duci la servici, te intorci si poti dormi pentru ca stii ca luna viitoare nu trebuie sa tai nimic ca sa iti poti plati mai stiu eu ce factura...si apuci sa te distrezi din cand in cand...poate ca asta e problema tuturor...nu mai apucam sa ne distram, in cautarea aceluiasi nou perpetuu, pe care daca-l gasim vom vrea din nou ceva nou inevitabil...parca cineva la un moment dat a zis suntem destinati sa ne plictisim...si parca toata lumea s-a gandit la unison...ce nu ne plictiseste niciodata?...Sexul!
...pai, atunci hai sa-l includem peste tot...ce daca se uita copii...si ei vor face sex la un moment dat si eu pe vremea mea nu stiam nimic despre asta si mi-a daunat...ca mi-era rusine sa vorbesc cu mama despre asa ceva...dar eu am jurat sa nu fiu ca parintii mei cu ai mei copii...toate astea sunt niste clisee nenorocite induse...logic ca n-o sa fim ca parintii nostri, logic ca acelor copii le dauneaza cunostintele timpurii despre sex...sunt copii si copilaria li se termina prea repede daca incep sa se futa de la 13 ani...logic, nu?...si mai logic este sa-i intereseze, ca doar copilaria are la baza curiozitatea...un orgasm la 13-14 ani inseamna ca s-a terminat copilaria...nu-ti mai vine sa te joci fotbal in parc cu ceilalti baieti, ca trece vreo pitzi cu pantalonasii atat de scurti incat i se vad bucile...si ce buci...vine si reversul...condamna toata lumea pedofilii(masculin) iar curvele la care tatii duc baieti de 15-16 ani sunt platite si considerate ceva normal...si vine Moni si-mi spune ca-l iubeste pe Iri...si-i mai face si copil(presupunem ca-i al lui)...ca ea are dreptul sa iubeasca un tip cu 20-25 ani mai in varsta dar una de 16 e minora si e proasta...dar Moni e desteapta...
Sunt curios cand o sa rabufneasca aceasta lume la unison...sa fie sexul apocaliptic?...sa ne trezim cand regina Angliei se va marita si va consuma maritisul in direct la tv cu printul de 11 ani al Arabiei Saudite?...si atunci cand toata lumea va face sex la unison...toata lumea va copula in acelasi timp...energia respectiva sa fie insuportabila pentru planeta provocand o implozie fiind magma mai rece decat suprafata?
Vise...
Planeta va fi aici mult dupa ce rasa umana va fi fost de mult extirpata ca un cos stors in baie in oglinda...sunt curios apropo de eco manie cand sau daca au scos prezervative ecologice...si daca mai presus de toate in afara de avort se mai gandeste cineva la suprapopulare...ca doar fiecare avorton are drepturile lui...cei in viata ma refer...adica stim ca aruncam mai multe gunoaie decat prevede orice norma ecologica sau ca n-avem unde sa aruncam gunoiul dupa aceleasi norme...dar nu ne gandim ca sunt din ce in ce mai multi care arunca gunoi...asta inseamna ca organizatiile ecologice sunt pro-avort?....aiurea...
Ati observat ca dupa fiecare razboi mai maricel asa urmeaza criza economica?....sa fie din cauza ca acei oameni care au bagat bani in acel razboi vor banii inapoi?..ca mie nu mi se pare ca brusc la terminarea razboiului oamenii n-aveau bani ci bancile...
Of...si papa benedict si-a rupt mana...o are in gips...papalitatea e in gips si musulmanii se pregatesc de un nou atentat...daca nu are cine sa vorbeasca cu dumnezeu chiar in acel moment al atentatului pentru ca pe benedict il doare in cotul gipsului?
...suntem blestemati...cu totii...nimic nu pare sa mearga...chiar si pentru cei bogati...daca lu’ Mutu i-a murit la intrare(zicea o tarfa) inseamna ca noi ceilalti n-o sa avem nici o sansa cand noi nu aratam nici pe jumate’ cat el...n-o fi folosit prezervative ecologice si fiind poluat l-a batut dumnezeu sau tarfa era minora si erectia s-a produs inainte de actul in sine...

The teenager

This morning the subway was crowded and everyone tried to breathe normally as the heat increased since no air conditioner was available. The air was a sea of perfume with a wave of sweat, and kids asked from time to time “mommy what is that horrible smell? I can’t breathe! “.One thing was certain. The bag of bad onion that the colored gipsy was taking to market as well as recently returned from construction sites Asian dudes annoyed everyone. But no one said anything. As usual, everyone had a sad look as if they just saw a drama, no voices could be heard because of the subway engine(s), but no one even wanted to speak. A strain of thoughts tortured my mind as I was trying to read something, but I couldn’t. Earlier, I saw a kid dressed in a colorful outfit and shiny shoes. She had green hair, and lots of piercing. It wasn’t so disturbing to watch, but the old lady standing next to her had a mean look as if she was just about to smack her. I wondered why. Then I realized she couldn’t possibly understand that kid. The look was the expression of disapproval towards everything the young generation liked. The kid was proud of her clothes and hair and shiny shoes, and she couldn’t care less about the looks that were almost cursing her. People fight and fear what they don’t understand…or just hate the unimaginable. Where does all the hate come from? Well…it’s kinda easy. The stinky subway might be a noisy place but it’s a great place to wonder through thoughts. So, I figured it out. Our society is a teenager. Think about it. At first, we were savages, people that didn’t know right from wrong; then, we started learning and we made great discoveries; then, everyone started fighting; then there was the renaissance and love was its’ theme; and then, there’s now… Rebellious, freedom obsessed, fashion addict, stubbornness all around, it all sounds like a teenager. Will we grow up? I believe we won’t live to see that world with at least less chaotic decisions and maybe the tendency of self-destruction won’t get to us after all.

Iluzia(II)

Ce poate fi mai frumos ca un inceput… sa te arunci cu capul inainte in necunoscut? Poate ca… “necunoscut”… e totusi un termen nepotrivit pentru ca intr-un fel sau altul intotdeauna stim, macar in subconstient, ce ne asteapta…oriunde am merge…orice am face…oricat de necunoscuta pare situatia, macar ca am vazut undeva ce urmeaza sa facem, si oricat de surprinzatoare ar fi reactia, “necunoscut” este un termen relativ. Si nu ma refer la informatie, ci la trairi, sentimente, iar astea cred ca par necunoscute doar pentru ca nu pot fi controlate…iti dicteaza ce esti, te definesc. Poate ca fiecare reactionam diferit intr-o aceeasi situatie datorita educatiei, cu toate acestea cand vine vorba de sentimente ele sunt definite de acealeasi cuvinte mereu…frica, iubirea, ura, dezgustul, dispretul, adoratia… chiar si nebunia in unele cazuri, privita ca sentiment… toate acestea ne pot defini. Umanitatea din fiecare ne face sa ne identificam de cele mai multe ori cu ceea ce este in fata noastra, indiferent daca acel ceva pare necunoscut. Sa fie asta motivul pentru care atunci cand cunosti pe cineva sa ti se para necunoscut iar scurt timp dupa aceea sa ai senzatia: “parca te cunosc de mult timp”? Sau poate punctele comune ale educatiei aproprie doua persoane, uneori pentru mai mult timp decat se asteptau initial, apoi, urmand tiparele logice ale oricarei relatii, aceste doua persoane se educa una pe cealalta pentru a putea convietui, ca sa-si poata spune: “te iubesc”.
Cat de greu e sa spui te iubesc atunci cand o simti cu adevarat…si asta pentru ca ai vazut cum se face, ai vazut unde poate duce, si, fie teama de respingere, fie teama de acea minciuna “si eu”, fie teama ca acel “si eu” ar putea fi adevarat, te arunca intr-un “necunoscut” deosebit, acela al intimitatii progresive; daca ajungi sa spui acel te iubesc, “necunoscutul” poate fi o anume descoperire, despre cel sau cea pe care il/o iubesti, care iti poate fura totul lasandu-te cu golul si pustietatea unei despartiri; daca ajungi sa spui acel te iubesc “necunoscutul” poate fi posesivitatea agresiva sau pasiva a celuilalt si modul cum vei reactiona la ea, ducand inevitabil la o extrema pe care nu esti sigur ca vrei s-o atingi, aceea de a te lasa imovabil in sufletul cuiva, de a nu putea cunoaste din nou singuratatea, de care uneori ai nevoie, pentru ca cineva este pentru totdeauna in sufletul tau, si atunci parca teama de a il/o pierde creste exponential cu lumea noua in care te afunzi; daca ajungi sa spui acel te iubesc … esti condamnat/a sa traiesti. Dar asta nu e o tragedie, asa-i? Oamenii sunt asa cum ii stim si sansa ca acest personaj, de-a dreptul fictiv, sa apara, este din pacate mica. Adevarul este insa si el relativ, asa ca, la fel ca tot ce ne inconjoara, acest personaj, “acel te iubesc”, este efemer. Dar atat cat tine, indiferent care ar fi motivele disparitiei sale, nu poate spune nimeni ca nu e cel mai frumos act din piesa de teatru numita “Viata”.

Do You Believe In God?

A high school girl, aged 16, was crying on a bench the other night while waiting for the subway train. When I asked her why, she showed me the book she was reading. It was Dante’s “Divina Comedia”. Then I said “so what? Hell is bad, but you are too young to worry about that and it’s a great book, but just a book”. The conversation then turned rather philosophical. She said that she didn’t believe in God after reading that book. Her whole short life she has been lied to by adults trying to prove themselves that they had a meaning on Earth, when in fact Heaven and Hell are made up stories meant to control people, to make them do “the right thing”, and that right thing is already within us, for we have a conscience. I thought that was outrageously clever for a 16 year old girl, cute too; she should think about boys or fashion or something, not the meaning of life and whether there is a God. But she kept going, saying that she was an orphan since she was 5, her parents died in car accident and her life was too messed up for boys or other things beside school. Of course everyone told her that her mom and dad went to heaven. Then she remembered her dad had molested her and her mom was a drunk, and by reading the book actually considered they might be in hell. Since we were going in the same train, she told me more. There was one question that maybe every one of us should consider (whether we are Christians, Jews, Muslims, or whatever…) what kind of god allows such things as child molestation, war, disasters, disease and so on, and so on. Isn’t God supposed to watch us? Isn’t God good, merciful, forgiving, and all other stuff that makes someone perfect? He was supposed to be perfect, wasn’t he? I tried to calm her down telling her that that’s no reason to cry for, that if she figured that out on her own maybe she won’t need religion to blame or thank for the good or bad things happening in her life, she will overcome those things by believing in herself for a change. But I wondered after she got of that train, if I should have given her the reasons many people use for their daily praying that God is all-knowing, that God works in mysterious ways, that God has a reason that we are not supposed to know. For 2000 years Christians told the world God walked on Earth to save us all. Muslims believe that God (Arabic: الله‎, Allāh) revealed the Qur'an to Muhammad, God's final prophet, through the angel Gabriel, and regard the Qur'an and the Sunnah (words and deeds of Muhammad) as the fundamental sources of Islam. Islamic tradition holds that Jews and Christians distorted the revelations God gave to these prophets by either altering the text, introducing a false interpretation, or both. That girl and I, and maybe some of you after reading this text, we’re actually asking the same questions, and all the questions lead to one: if there is a God, where is He? Because it all comes down to one God, or whatever you may call Him, the entity that created Earth…

Apocalypse

There was a thought I couldn’t get rid of last night...I thought of people...people that are so rich their money wouldn’t fit in a very large room, and people so poor their whole fortune would fit in match box. And then...something hit me… the thought about those poor people. They seem to have a life that no one in the middle or upper class could imagine. And when I say middle class I mean the people that barely hold their existence every day. I thought of that because I read an article that said 1 billion people are starving. That means 1 of 6 people don’t have a thing to eat every day...So, how bad can life get? Above starvation in the suffering classification....how bad can life get? What if this is as good as it gets? We are given the freedom to have all the things we value. We have only ourselves to blame if those things don’t happen for us. So, if we have everything, what if this is a kind of „heaven”? How can we tell those starving people that THIS is heaven??? And that they’re to blame for starvation? There are many reasons to say that this is or isn’t heaven...even a starving man (or woman...or maybe they can more) enjoy the simple pleasures of life. What is so great about the simple pleasures? Some would say that they are the ultimate reason to live. That conservation instinct that keeps even the most depressed from jumping into suicide. That’s what simple facts of life can do...Then...there’s another question...what if heaven and hell don’t exist? Do we have to/need to believe there’s something better and something worse to keep us from doing what we think it’s worse so we don’t get to a worse place after death? And is there a better place for us if we respect the rules of society? Perhaps people should believe in heaven and hell for this simple reason: if we don’t believe there’s heaven and hell than chaos and disobedience for society rules would destroy us. Is this the imminent Apocalypse? Is the Apocalypse the moment people realize they’ve been lied to by other people, even though maybe those people only wanted to avoid chaos? This series of rhetorical questions is only meant to confuse...but seem right to people that actually think...

Time Travels

The most powerful men of the planet were on the island, hidden from the eyes of the world. At first, it would seem that their world was the same as ours, there was war everywhere, and famine, and pollution. But somehow they were more evolved than we are. It was a different world, and they knew that they had to do something to change their world for a better mankind. Their world was ruled by scientists. They believed in God but they only knew Moses and the Roman Empire had taken over Jerusalem without any resistance from local priests, and the Romans imposed easily their gods to the Jewish people. But when the natural course of history led humanity to scientific discoveries everyone admitted there could be only one God, the Creator. After that they invented guns, and their world fought for power and lands and wealth. Their struggle was getting worse and there were only five nations left in battle, and they each had a continent as their country. So those men met on a recently discovered island in the midst of the Atlantic Ocean, to discuss their world’s fate, by revealing to all others the non-military scientific discoveries they possessed. They could have revealed the other secrets as well but if the meeting failed to come to an answer the world was doomed by war. Some of those secrets you may know, for they are searched for by our world too, as time travel and healing potions. They had reached a peak in science, and imagination was their currency, every new idea was treasured as we treasure diamonds. The island was called Atlantis, in honor of the lost continent they found in another ocean; that continent provided them with knowledge that took centuries to fully understand. Among that knowledge there was one which was on every mind, a knowledge that changed that world’s destiny. It would seem from Atlantis records that the people of Atlantis knew even more than any world could. Then, the people of Atlantis found out there was an imminent threat to their existence, a threat they could not have defeated. No one knew what that danger was, but when the time came, a High Council, or whatever they would call it, met to decide how to solve that threat, and since it couldn’t be avoided the number of casualties had to be minimum. And they decided to build a ship, big enough to fit as many animals and as many people as they could transport back in time to a distant land far away from that imminent threat. Since the world with five leaders knew the Old Testament mentioned Noah and his ark, they knew that the story there was about the people of Atlantis. But on “new Atlantis”, they never mastered time travels, they could only guess were they were sending the passengers, and they knew that once the time line was broken they ceased to exist because the past was altered so it was a one time opportunity. Then, for the first time in many years the five leaders agreed. They would send two ships, one way back than the other. The first was to alter the Old Testament to announce the coming of the Son of God. The other was packed with every bit of information needed to change the world in good, so war and famine and most of all morality would change. They wanted to accomplish that by artificial insemination of a young virgin, a miracle as it would have been considered at the time, and the child was about to become world leader because of his evolved DNA, and the help of a crew of twelve men with altered DNA. The plan involved other miracles to prove that he was the Son of God. They could not anticipate the people’s reaction, but they knew it was their only chance. They chose to act on behalf of God, since the people of the time chosen really only obeyed religion and not authority, and thinking their knowledge was a gift from Him. Their actions were God’s will to give mankind a second chance or third, or, who knows…At the time of the Greatest Discovery as they called time travels, they knew it was the gift that God gave them to change the world, but the time travels before that were only experiments, and this was the completion of their study. The five leaders knew that they could not succeed alone, they failed when they tried. It left them though with beautiful memories and everyone enjoyed the Great Pyramid of Giza, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, and the Statue of Zeus at Olympia, the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus, the Mausoleum of Maussollos at Halicarnassus, the Colossus of Rhodes, and the Lighthouse of Alexandria. But it was time to change the world and no mistakes could happen this time, they were together. It seems now they only succeeded to create a different version of an ancient religion. Mankind was doomed since the writing of the apocalypse by John in the Book of Revelation. And as this story(fictional of course) goes it seems that the five leaders failed, and the world is on its course to another time travel, if we will receive another one, the same gift, from God, or we(mankind) will be considered a failed experiment.

Iluzia

Cati oameni se pot numi cu adevarat norocosi in incercarea perpetua de a gasi acel sentiment unic despre care scriitori, scenaristi eventual producatori au tot incercat sa ne convinga in (uneori) siropoasele comedii romantice? Si daca l-au gasit, oare stiu cu adevarat sa-l pretuiasca, sa-l mentina viu?...sau se stinge ca un foc de artificii intr-o zi de sarbatoare, dupa ce fitilul a ars complet, artificiile s-au inaltat in inaltul cerului, au incantat privirea cu acea lumina minunata, apoi au lasat stelele sa-si faca treaba. Suna siropos, nu? Pentru majoritatea persoanelor acest sentiment este, de obicei, inlocuit…evident, de o iluzie, de minciuna, de autocompatimire metamorfozata in apatie, iar apatia transformata intr-o noua iluzie provocata de primul zambet, primul sarut, prima soapta, prima penetrare. Acea tarfa numita televiziune ne hraneste cu iluzii si idei preconcepute toata viata, iar una din ideile ilusive este insasi iubirea. Si daca n-ai televizor, ai carti, si daca ai carti imaginatia contribuie la ilusivitatea ideii facand aproape imposibil adevaratul sentiment. Si atunci, cum facem distinctia intre iluzie si adevar? N-o facem. La fel ca acel foc de artificii, totul pare inaltator pana cand, mai devreme sau mai tarziu, lumina se stinge. Sa fie oare aceasta iluzie, alimentata de secole prin carti, apoi televizor, doar o iluzie? Adica… parca mi-e si teama s-o spun…adica intre iluzia ca iubesti si iubirea in sine doar iluzia sa fie adevarata? Pai …daca e sa privesc din afara o relatie clasica dintre doi oameni care pretind ca se iubesc, ei o sa povesteasca o insiruire de fapte, incepand cu momentul in care s-au cunoscut pana in prezent, ce le place si ce le displace, eventual pentru cei “deschisi la minte” cateva pozitii, locuri erogene commune, si eventual perversiuni impartasite pana la orgasm. Ok . Cu ce se deosebeste asta, in afara de durata relatiei, eventual, de un tip care se duce la curve si nimereste una careia chiar ii place ce face(fiind nimfomana eventual), sa insemne asta ca automat tipul iubeste o curva sau ca tipa iubeste fiecare barbat care-i trece prin pat? Largind contextul exemplului, cate iubiri poate avea un om? Daca aceste argumente adunate cu descoperirile de genul substanta X este secretata de organism in timpul actului sexual si asta provoaca la nivel cerebral senzatia ca iubesti si esti iubit, ar duce la o concluzie sigura, lumea ar fi mai trista pentru ca n-ar crede ca iubirea exista, iar speranta perfectiunii,o iluzie similara, cea care ne tot impinge de la spate in ceea ce facem si simtim, ar disparea.