Joie de vivre

Ne dorim sa ne putem alinia "lumii civilizate". N e intrebam de ce ne construim o imagine proasta in fata Europei. Exemplul depre care voi scrie este unul mic; mic, dar care m-a intristat si care este aplicat, totusi, si la alte niveluri. De cand m-am mutat in Olanda, nu am avut nicio interactiune cu televiziunea romana; nu ca mi-ar displacea, dar nu sunt fana televizorului in general. In seara asta, brusc, mi-am amintit de Selectia Nationala; in viziunea mea, un show destul de important, avand in vedere ca si el participa oarecum la construirea unei imagini a Romaniei in Europa. Intr-adevar, producatorii nu dau doi bani pe SN, pe ESC in general, pe constructia unui show adevarat, demn de integrarea in economia experientei de astazi. Zicem ca Romania se poate schimba daca exista suficient de multi care sa vrea si sa actioneze in directia asta. Dar atunci cand din juriu fac parte oameni care nu stiu sa vada dincolo de aparente, care se pierd in stereotipuri si cad victima gand...

'What keeps you up at night?' 'The thought of him ignoring my unsent messages.'  Source unknown   

Spuneam eu acum ap roape doi ani ca nu-mi voi schimba culoarea curand. "Curand" e foarte relativ, asa ca abia de trecusera vreo 8 luni de cand am marturisit ca-mi iubesc culoarea si cam 6 luni de cand mi-am zis ca nu mai pun vopsea in par, cand o cutie de la Syoss mi-a atras atentia intr-un supermarket: Source: http://www.syoss.ro/syoss/ro/ro/home/vopsirea_parului/color/saten0/saten_aluna.html In teorie, saten-aluna.  In practica: Ce? Saten? Nu vad :(. Am asteptat o luna, si iar la supermarket: Source: http://www.syoss.ro/syoss/ro/ro/home/vopsirea_parului/color/saten0/saten_deschis.html Si, cum socoteala de acasa nu se potriveste cu cea din targ (sau, in cazul de fata, ce e pe cutie/Internet nu se potriveste cu realitatea), a iesit asta (uitati-va pe lungime & varfuri): Daca ala e saten deschis, inseamna ca am ochi albastri. In plus, reflexiile roscate sunt inca acolo... Imi spunea cineva odata ca roscatul e cea mai pacatoa...

His smile...is still here. It's haunting me. It's everywhere. In every photo and in every memory. In every corner of my mind and of my sight. In my every move towards getting over him. ...and I was wondering why it takes so long for some people to get over someone they loved.  But I didn't even love you. You can't love someone after only one encounter, can you? "I will remember [...] how we gave each other what was left of us,  and [...] the feel of you, your smile, and the warmth of you  who made me laugh again."

On her wall, a post-it reminds:  "Get out of bed".  But sometimes, her disease makes her blind . 

It was a gloomy, overcast, usual winter day. I let my mind wander, as I often do when I have assignments to complete. Staring out my room's window. A song I used to listen to back in Romania came on the playlist; then another one and another one. Those types of songs that are filled up with memories, and that send you back in the past. A familiar smell came from the freshly brewed tea, which threw me in the same past. I noticed I stay in the same position in my desk chair, with the palms between my thighs, as I usually stayed when I had homework to do, back then. Everything was linked to the past, and everything was meant to trigger homesickness. But they didn't. I felt emptiness in my stomach. But it was good. As all my senses were aroused and sharpened. P ast memories came back to life, past feelings, past thoughts...all the stimuli threw me completely back there; it's not the first time.  But it is the first time when I'm happy I recall them. It's th...

This year has been one of MY years. 5 and 15 are those numbers that apparently brought me luck since I can remember, you know those superstitions. I don't remember what happened in 2005 (might ask my Grandma for this :D), but I will certainly remember all my life what happened in the freaking 2015, the best year of my life up to this moment! January was a huge step forward. I have proven myself that people are not what you hear about them; people are only what they are and how they behave. I started the driving school, and later I found that I have passed the so-much-desired-and-worked-for Cambridge Certificate in Advanced English ; the door-opening diploma, the one thanks to which I could freely join a foreign University. I had my second serious interview of my life: I wanted to volunteer for an NGO in my hometown. I donated blood for the first time. February has brought me a position in the NGO: I was going to do PR and translations for the next (at least) 6 months;...