I've had enough of...

living, blogging, whatsoever, synonyms or not, boring, or straightforward exhausting both.

Zi în mozaic

Alb-negru; albastru-oranj; verde-roşu; galben-violet; alternanţe de culori din părţile opuse ale cercului, venind la îngreunarea refacerii curcubeului de sticlă spartă, destrămat anume, în căutarea singurei culori pierdute în spectral, însă contopită în alb, ca singură urma de impur, ascunsă în deplinătate, la limita perceptibilului. Cădere liberă până la un punct, contrară unui deus ex machina, a cărui efigie e coarda elastică, produsă de ectoplasme ultrasupersubtilizate, din a căror împletire rezultă imanenta nimicnicie, aidoma topicii postmoderne. Şi, după, cădere în tandem, sub apusuri estompate, de forma măştilor Kabuki, încremenite în dans.
La margine de chipul meu, alte feţe, în contraste dulci, ritmate de pete; cinetism fără senzaţia de ameţeală amplificată de progresii în adâncime, dar curgând în stereotipie, fluvii de autokineză. Mâini încolăcite, şerpuind pe trunchiurile din raiurile închipuite, unde Eva s-a pietrificat, după ce mărul i-a alunecat din mână; picioare alergând, în cadenţa inimii, spre ţinte şterse subit din ochi; supratemporale opriri, germinând mişcare.
Scris febril, ca un fel de stop-cadru, dar, de fapt, mai mult limitare şi concentrarea mişcării prin alte raportări între planuri, în vârful peniţei, ca pe acoperişul răsturnat al lumii, după escalade la minut-currente calamo.
Viteză, nervi, ochelari posomorâţi, umbriţi de câte o lacrimă fugară; datorii neîmplinite nici măcar în al doisprezecelea ceas, dar cu speranţa de ştergere definitivă, după limpezirea gândurilor. Şi amurg. Fără de înşelare.

Viziuni

Trec străzile pe sub oameni-străzile, imense benzi rulante, desfăşurându-se înainte, înapoi, de la copacul 20 până la copacul 209, cu aceeaşi viteză, urmând să accelereze la 50 pe oră după copacul 300, singurul reper important, dotat cu cititor de coduri de bare. Bip scurt, apoi scurt bip, prelungite la nesfârşit, întru imitarea sirenei salvării fără destinaţie, după care zgomot mare şi ţipăt amestecat, înecat în bip-bip-bip-bip-bip-refren delirant postum. Sângele se spală automat, rămăşiţele de carne pulverizate mecanic se pierd în sol.
Se şterge din baza de date: 224553, 890678, 567888, dimpreună cu celălalt număr, secret, care s-a permanentizat, marele simbol al tranzacţiilor, efectuate din Singapore până în Urali. Se şterge...
444356: după scanare, imagine; în urma dezintegrării, doar 444356: reciclat: 444252, pentru a fi aplicat următorului. Detenţie fără lanţuri, fără ziduri: cu baterie....
Minunata lume nouă: fără, fără, fără...descreată....liberă...în topire liberă.

N-am mai postat nik de nu-ş când

şi-mi vine să urlu, at least în scris, de fericire şi de altele... Era să-mi declar blogul mort, şi să mă duc la starea civilă să-mi scot de sanchi un certificat de deces, aşa, ca să-mi motivez toate absenţele de semestrul ăsta şi de semestrul viitor şi de toate celelalte semestre ale vieţii mele. Să mă declar şi pe mine socially dead.

Nu ştiu de ce n-am mai scris. Nu caut să mă justific, mai ales pentru că am 0 cititori, pardon, 1, că pe mine nu m-am numărat, şi, în faţa mea, parcă n-am curaj...
Oricum, mi-ar fi utilă o scutire de blogging, numai că nu cunosc niciun medic destul de dus cu pluta să-mi dea aşa ceva. Doar nu-mi iau concediu medical de la un job liber asumat, din care nu câştig nimic. Să profit de AdSense? Nici vorbă! Nu fac reclamă la nimic din ceea ce n-am lucrat cu mâinile mele.
Adevărul e că m-am schimbat. De la o inconsecvenţă crasă am trecut la alt stadiu, mai avansat, de indiferenţă totală. Faţă de mine. Facă alţii ce vor cu persoana mea, care numai proprie şi personală nu e...nu le mai zic nik. S-o creadă ei că pot să mă schimbe. Accept orice sfat legat de modă-nu ştiu să traduc fashion advice în română.
Ţin sus şi tare că nu ştiu nimic. Lumea nu mă crede. I-aş întreba pe ceilalţi ce ştiu. Ce mi-ar răspunde? Nimic. Deci, suntem toţi egali, în ceea ce priveşte...nu ştiu cum se spune...afirmaţia bruscă despre propriile cunoştinţe...răspunsul la CE ŞTII?
Nu mai ştiu să scriu, la 21 de ani, am ajuns într-un stadiu de copil...stadializarea dezvoltării nu se mai aplică la mine...poate pentru că mi-am găsit o nouă dragoste. Dar despre dragoste şi alte tâmpenii, în episodul următor.

Hey you...

yes, you, over there! Why are you looking out the window in class, like an ordinary tired student? Don't you know you should look only at your teacher during the class? said Miss Simmons, angrily, while I did nothing wrong.
What the heck, don't we have the right not to pay attention to all the trash someone says or does, no matter what authority is he or she supposed to have? So, why don't you leave? Just tell me to shut up, and I'll listen to you.
Yes, dare to tell me to shut up! Hey! You! Over there! Tell me to shut up!
However, I won't listen to you unconditionally, no, under no circumstance shall I do that! You know why? Because my show must go on. On its normal path, whether normality exists in a stand-up comedy show or not.
So, ladies and gentlemen, tonight, get ready for a speech. I dare not say anything about the length of it. So, prepare to listen or to go to sleep. Eventually.
First of all, I'd like to talk about one of the most salient problems humanity is confronting with: global warming. We may not feel it, though, on this cold November day, yet, it's there, threatening to take over our lives and to make us evaporate, silently, out of this world.
If we look at the beauty standards existent throughout history, you can see that the female body has gone through a slow and painful process of evanescence. Remember Venus of Willendorf? And Venus of Milo? Let's not mention Boticelli's Venus; they were all full, rounded, let me say, fat. Well, today's Venus is just a bag full of bones; all her fat tissue and muscles have vaporized into thin air, because of the intense temperatures she had to stand; if global warming will continue to increase, then, the next Venus will be a skeleton, coming straight from the graveyard.
Secondly, to cheer up the atmosphere a lil' bit, I'll pass on the next subject to someone in the audience, who happens to be more interested in it. Mr Jones, aren't you more interested in global warming than I am? Any Jones seated here? No?
Damn it, I'll have to continue my speech all by myself. Secondly, global warming has lead to an outrageous, scandalous, indecent change in the shape of clothes, leaving the poor employees in fabric factories without their jobs. Imagine that, ladies and gentlemen! If all women have chosen to wear sexy short skirts and sleazy bustiers, the amount of fabric produced will decrease by 50 % the next year. So, I give to you a simple arithmetic problem, that I hope you'll solve in 500 years: how many workers in the textile industry would lose their jobs due to global warming by the next month?
I'll skip the third point, because it's worth a long explanation, and I'll go to the fourth additional one, less significant indeed. Global warming has also an advantage. By the time you realise it's snowing, winter is over and you don't have to pay any more gas bills!
Speaking about gas...who has some extra fuel? I need some for my car...I need to go home, or else!
Don't be scared, I'll use a bike this time. Bye bye, have no functioning car, gotta go. See ya, ladies and gentlemen, hope you have not fallen off your chairs!

Here we are now...

...entertain us/Hello, hello, hello, how low can we get? I mean, man, how can the world go down at such a speed rate, that it makes me dizzy enought to fall off this earth... Not literaly, of course, just for theatrical reasons, for you, my spectators, to be entertained (yawn, long and heavily sustained by sound).
All I want to say to you is...hmmm...I forgot...let me think about that...(scratching head)...Ahhh...I remember: Welcome to my show, ladies and gentlemen. Please be seated and quiet while attending it. OK? Have you heard that? PLEASE BE SEATED AND QUIET!!!!
Under no circumstances shall you leave the hall! Or else! You'll be shot in the head!!!
Wait until 9 PM! Heard that? Wait (silence period)Wait!! What in the world is happening at 9 PM? A simple answer shall I give to this question, which, by the way, is troubling only me this moment.
Well, well, well...Guess what ? My show's ending then. Still, you can leave after the break. I don't need any of your hand claps. I needn't finish the show, either, if I think better. I'll go on a date with one of the most ragged, slipshod, tired and sick of work young man that has ever lived on the planet. In case you want to vent your anger on him, I won't tell his name. Sure thing, you'll find it out yourselves, ladies and gentlemen. Now, stop and listen to a story I feel a deep urge to tell you a story about...
Tell me what! About another man in my life that has come to an end. Finally. (sobbing) No, it's not about me, I'm not dying, calm down. If you wanted to buy yourself a new pair of mourning mits, that you could latere match with your used evening dress, then, you haven't heard about the right funeral.
Anyway, he's not dead either, if you thought of that...he's alive, well and heavily entertained by female companions (frown).
That's why I became everybody's entertainer. So I could find...er...hmmm...happiness.
Which shall never come into his hopefully short and painful existence. Tormented by drugs and longing for a hot woman, while having all the cold ones as often as he has cold drinks in cheap restaurants. Well, I'm satisfied he couldn't have a woman like me, no matter how hard had he tried.
Every now and then, we used to fall apart. Don't you dare to think of sex scenes! If they were there, they weren't really made up for your pervert brains, ladies and gentlemen! If they weren't, you needn't invent them, either, only to please yourself.
So, as I said, it' s over. It must have been nothing, but it's over now!
So,leave the room as fast as you can, or I'm gonna get you good!
Bye, bye, members of my audience! See ya soon!

Living on the edge

...even though not screaming out loud, clearly enough to be heard, I'm carrying around an updated form of my log-lost-or I least I thought it to be lost-depression, that keeps on being triggered by the most unobservable events. Because my modd is so out of my range, I can't, definitely, keep myself from becoming one of the wildest and most demanding woman I know.