désistement

Cititorii din offline întreabă: Tu de ce nu îți faci blog de beauty-lifestyle-manâncă-trăiește-iubește-perfect-sănătos-frumos-voios-și-devreme-acasă-ca-o-diiiiiivă? Să ne arăți modele de unghii roz cu buline albe, să ne trântești o părere avizată despre cel mai bun fond de ten, cel mai negru tuș pentru ochi, cea mai cool îmbrăcată pițipoancă de la Hollywood de care oricum n-a auzit nimeni? Sau măcar rochițul corporatist de la petrecerea de Crăciun corporatistă? Niște bârfe despre cosmeticale, despre parabeni, să fie acolo. Hai și despre bio dacă e. Ce tot atâta zen și jale?

Redacția din online răspunde: Par manque de consistence, mes très chers. Ceci n’est pas l’église des papotages. Aici e loc de dus războaie, de scuipat frici și dureri, de șters praful la modul compulsiv, de mușcat din carne până la sânge.Aici nu e despre chestii grele gen smacuri și inspiraționale. Aici e despre superficial. Am zis.

Novembering

One full year bordered by two seamless Novembers. It's strange how some things evolved and others simply dissolved. I stepped into November past right after texting I do and letting myself go. Someone told me I looked happy that night. I was happy. But then my whole world fell apart with no warning. I remember that awful, awful tasting coffee while we were waiting for the train. Trying to have a decent, tear-free conversation. My hands and feet becoming numb. Moments when I'd find myself thinking "he's really enjoying torturing me like this".

I had to pull it through somehow. There was no master plan. Things just happened. Little people growing up and teaching me how to be a child again. Downshifting, sort of. Accidentally getting back in touch with someone I hadn't seen in over 10 years. Managing five hardcore scorpios and two aries at work -- that turns me into a bloody bitch or the coolest boss, but it depends on the context. Constantly failing at being creative and not giving a damn about it. Growing passion for everything handmade. Loving lavender soap, lace and honey. Being published in New York. Drinking large amounts of coffee and milk. Giving up smoking for six painful weeks. Then taking up smoking. You're so sweet and precious when you smoke. Hearing the diagnosis. "It's cancer". Again. Still deciding whether to fight it or not. Wearing that crooked smile. Listening to Portishead up in the mountains. Being tolerant. I trust you with my life. Making plans for a boutique. Learning to forgive. Coming to terms with myself. Telling people I love them. Even if they remain silent.


  

Three

L. was right.

Pink Floyd is wisdom

Depeche Mode is bliss

Metallica is temper