Day 10,001

He died today.

And I wasn't there with him.

10,000 days of me

I was born exactly 10000 days ago. I set a reminder in my agenda some months ago after D. sent me the calculations. Then I completely forgot about it until today when my phone started to ring.

They got me out of the hospital some days after I was born, it was mid July and my dad said I looked so bored and annoyed that he promised to love me forever. Which he did. It was the two of us against the world for about 9730 days of my life. Then they discovered his illness. And the world sort of crashed into me.

I’m the result of 10000 days of bad karma, wrong choices and too much analysis.

Four days in Milan, mind-blowing and painful to live.

45 days of bliss in Dublin, where I could have lived forever actually.

Roughly seven years of denial up until I went to Timisoara and my reality smashed against facts.

Many years of English and 16 months of full-time finance. Like… anyone can play guitar, right?

I’ve met A. who told me it’s the inside that matters but apparently he forgot to add that the outside is crucial. Backstage parties and wine tend to distort the truth. Then some 500 days later, not long ago, I met T. He didn’t say anything prophetic, just smiled and played guitar like a regular rockstar. I’m quite sure he’s locked under “les inrockuptibles”, those who cannot be corrupt. But he’s wakened me up of my lethargy and makes me wonder. What if? I seem to have a penchant for lost cases. Too bad I can’t write off the debt in real life referrals. Reset.

kudos to me!

Antisocial, paranoid, complicated, cold and picky.
Through all of this, I did fall in and out of love.
So fast that I skipped the "pre-" infatuation and "post-" drama.
I guess I was just trying to make sure I could still f e e l.

to my almost unintended

I’m not too cool to be true.

I’m not overly sensitive.

I just feel a lot.

And no, my hair is not perfect.

I do listen to Megadeth every now and then. And I still think that LP was a good idea.

My voice sounds so empty.

I deal with my issues in my own particular way.

I smoke because it makes me think of you.

I don’t wear high heels to seem taller, but to make you drool silently.

I bite my lips in anger, just to feel the pain while you’re giving me lectures.

I’ll never cry in front of you cos my mascara would run down and I’d look so cheap and slutty.

Sometimes I do act the drama queen but even to me that’s a bit too much. That’s when I fall again.

I was supposed to marry a perfect guy but who needs perfection?

Ask me what I want!

I’ll spell it to you.

I want to taste my own kind.

I want to watch you lose control.

I want the exact same thing… but different.

Petite soiree. A la francaise.

grecuv became overfriendly to some obscure bottle of wine (just because those wine glasses needed to be officially launched on the market) but is still sober enough to highlight these two items :

- Les Negresses Vertes! Oh yessssssss! Sous Le Soleil de Bodega!




- Matthieu Kassovitz



Here's to another bloody week ahead!

Recent random memories

Most vivid one: Martin and Dave singing “Waiting For The Night” right there in front of me. But mostly Martin hanging by the mic stand like a homeless child who lost and found faith in God. Martin looking so delicate and shy and terribly blonde. Martin and Dave in a sea of soap bubbles. Literally.

I know my deliverance will come soon

Those three minutes of utter panic when I thought “It’s either me or them!”. I finally sort of won the battle.

It’s just a question of time

The waiting. The pain slowly getting over every cell of my body. One by one. The sun and the heat and the people around me rolling joints and drinking beer. Forza Lecce!

I’ll make your heart smile

Ingresso 10. Too many people. I never knew I could run so fast.

I know you know what you’re doing to me

The games we play. Grey smoke and small talk. Pretending to be mature enough to handle this. Electric blue butterflies through all kinds of weather. Pending decisions... But please feel free to be patient whenever I freak out. I do that a lot.

Everything fell into place

Madrid? Oh, Madrid… can I afford that? Really, can I? Two nights in a row… aaahh the little red devil on my shoulder…

Dear dad

You’re the love of my life.

Dear mom

Stop blaming me. I’m not the reason why people become ill.

Let me take you on a trip

So here we are, having had 27 and still alive. You looking not very much like a mother should normally look. Your little guy watching me with those intense blue eyes… and smiling at me. That’s what all the babies do when I’m holding them, they smile at me and grab my hair with their tiny little fingers. Yeah, too many aunts around him but hey, isn’t this how you grew up?

rencontres

Găsesc cu uimire că se poartă regăsirile.
De orice chip.






Pe mine mă regăsesc oameni de care am uitat la modul cel mai natural cu putinţă.
Fostul coleg de liceu care nu ezită să-mi expună într-un mail luuuung şi frumos formatat toate realizările lui de la Gaudeamus Igitur! şi până mai încoace. Realizări! Da! Nevastă, copil, poziţie managerială (copy&paste subtil din semnătura electronică, hint-hint!) şi rate la bancă pentru toţi membrii familiei! Nu, nu vreau să am de-a face cu întâlnirea prematură de 10 ani, care de fapt e peste 2 ani, da' ăsta e blestemul absolvenţilor de filologie, stăm prost cu matematica; nu vreau poveşti de oameni mari şi minţi înguste! Nu vreau să ne măsurăm în maşini, rate la bancă (ah, mă repet!) şi mai ales vreau să evit momentele greţos de emoţionante din categoria oldies but goldies "vaaaaai nu te-ai schimbat deloc!".

So I kindly invite you to fuck off!

Once more, with feeling.

They keep on asking me “How do you feel about it?” . Some out of genuine curiosity, but most of them just because these few words put together sound good and trendy and appropriate.

So how the hell am I supposed to feel about it?

I don’t know.

Sometimes I do feel like I’m about to lose my hope and suddenly I can’t breathe or think or move. I just sit there, wherever I am, waiting for that moment to go away. Waiting for my sort of normality and waiting for my heart to reboot.

Sometimes I fall into bouts of pure anger. That’s when I destroy relationships of all kind. That’s when I say without actually saying it “Fuck off, I don’t need you!”. That’s when I bite my lip till it bleeds and hang up the phone, hoping that it would ring back and some unknown voice would tell me “It’s OK. It’s OK. It’s OK. It’s OK. It’s OK”. That’s when I hate everybody. Not blaming anyone. Pure hate. For the smiles and compassion. They don’t help. Maybe it’d work without them looking at me.

But most of the times I feel like I HAVE to smile & wave. Almost passing out in hospitals while waiting for some fuckin’ good news does not solve the problem. Nor accepting what’s to be accepted; nor being frantic and spending the nights with doing research on the internet for some glorious case info.

I don’t know what being supportive really does mean and I don’t even think I’m supportive material. I don’t know how people react in such cases. But taking someone else’s bullshit for granted is not an option anymore. Sadly.

Meanwhile we live one day at a time and we re-learn the meaning of love.