25.

All I want to say is that I’m halfway there, baby. Twenty five thousands came out of the tips of my fingers, twenty five thousands are still to come. Now for optimism, now for hope and a finished novel

 

Vreau sa stau la tara in noiembrie.

Eu inca n’am vazut bruma in Bucuresti. Niciodata.

Mi’e dor de miros de fum si toamna si frunze cu bruma. Hai sa le cautam, va rog.

 

Caci eu iubesc.

si flori si ochi si buze si morminte.

 

Rupturi.

Fragmente din ceva scris acum…3 luni? Le’am ales pur si simplu la intamplare, pentru ca intreaga chestie era cam lunga si cam plictisitoare. Daca aveti rabdare sa cititi si ce e mai jos…congrats. : )

Unedited, undeva pe langa Sibiu.

…din nou, cu un intreg univers incatusat in jurul gleznelor mele.

Nu stiu cand a inceput, acum cativa ani? cu cateva zile inainte de a pleca? Am redevenit acea fantasma abstracta, esentiala, cu mult deasupra acelui loc si acelor oameni. Priveam campuri cum succed campuri printr’un cantec care nu era nici al meu si nici al lui, ci al lor. Nu intelegeam, lanuri de grau intrau in lanuri de grau intrau in lanuri de grau intrau in stalpi de telegraf, inconjurand ciori, strivind struguri, struguri necopti, inecandu’se (insetat) in rasina. Un stalp, apoi reflexia…

…pentru ca era prea departe de mine. Atunci a fost momentul cand mi’am simtit toate temerile inlantuite in stomac, cosmaruri si repulsii, tot ce adunasem in cincisprezece ani, mici embrioni gretosi zbatandu’se si am urlat “eu nu va voi hrani”.

Traiam cumva prin tavan, concentrandu’ma prin el ca si cum ar fi fost…

…abstracti, eu, pierduta, ei, cautandu’ma.

Atunci a fost groaznic. Oribil. Nu voiam sa vad, sa inteleg, nu stiam in ce ar fi trebuit sa cred; stiam doar ca, orice ar fi fost, nu doream sa’l stiu.

Ca un orb m’am intins dupa aer, dupa un perete sau dupa o mana sau dupa un suflet in care sa cad. Lumi dupa lumi imi explodau in fata ochilor si am simtit cum…

…plastic negru, lichid; se prelingea prin mine. O, nu, nu, eu n’ar fi trebuit sa ies din sufletul meu. Am cazut acolo, brusc constienta de fiecare os din corpul meu – o barca (insetat) fara vasle.

In noaptea aia, mi’am revenit. Mi’am construit o coloana, mi’am plamadit vertebre. Am reintrat in…

…moale spre rasarit, cealalta, spre apus. Inca am sangele imbibat cu tacerea acelei nopti – un oras de lumini zacea la picioarele mele si eu eram micul lor zeu, zgribulit intr’un colt, un zeu surd sufocat de plastic topit.

A incetat sa mai vorbeasca. Eu am ramas…

…pentru cateva zile, o imprumutasem eu insami? Daca ar fi trebuit sa mor din nou, cu mana aceea strangandu’mi usor umarul? Ar fi murit cu mine?

Soare, soare, soare, raze fara centru. Totul ardea, totul radea (si eu radeam, dar in afara lor). Unghii zgarieturi dureri da pulsa era ceva in pieptul meu, era ceva ce ei aruncau de la unul la…

…propria mea inima.

Si atunci am invatat sa mor, vesnic tanar, un zambet ca un cuvant (insetat) intinzandu’se intre mine si fantasmele rosii ale imaginatiei mele. Timpul a continuat sa mearga, la fel si eu, in propria mea cadenta. in contratimp. Am renuntat sa mai tip, acum stiu. Stiam si atunci, in momentul cand toti embrionii gretosi au murit si au devenit ceva ce ardea,  ceva ce vindeca, ceva…

 

English. Cambridge. English.

English. English. I chose a random online dictionary (one which is pretty good, I’d like to add) and typed in this word. I got thirteen different meanings for it. So what is English? English is culture, English is a 5 o’clock tea, English is a summer shower, English is William Shakespeare as well as Walt Whitman, English is, right now, a bridge. And in a world where people build walls instead of bridges, a common path is always welcome.
Strictly literally, English is a language spoken in the United Kingdom, in the USA and in Australia (each with its own charming accent, as well). But in the past few years English has become a must for every young person trying to get a job (and that’s what everyone’s after, isn’t it?) as well as for adults who may need the language in order to learn new things and, why not, obtain a promotion. This is the beautiful mouth which voices information, which voices the present as well as the future (and an important part of the past) and which, if we can manipulate it well, can voice our own ideas and opinions to the whole wide world.

Most of the people learning English today are almost forced to do so – whether we like it or not, it is shoved down our throats through internet, computers in general, TV, shops, music, movies and books… A very little part of our knowledge of the language is actually attained from school studies – most of the English your average teenager knows comes from movies, lyrics and various internet websites; all of which have a literal correctitude which is to be doubted. Then how do we know if what we think is right is, actually, right? A certificate can be the perfect motivation at the perfect time to start learning on a regular basis, with a serious schedule and, of course, the dose of ambition which is required.

First of all, a test is always a good (and possibly entertaining) way of seeing just how good you are when it comes to a subject. And not only you can measure your level, you can also see what is your position on the matter, compared to that of the others. You can see what are your flaws as well as your strong points. You can start working on your weaker parts, developing new abilities and so on. Let’s be honest, no one likes taking tests, but this kind of test is different. This is the one you take for yourself and for your own future, not because an evil teacher tells you to do so. You have time to get ready for it, to learn properly and it’s your choice to take it, only yours. It’s a part of human nature to need something material to occasionally cling onto or just to prove the others what is not so obvious; the certificate you can obtain is exactly that. You can hold your English in your hands. You can show it to people and you can show it to yourself – this is my English, this is how good it is and who knows how much better will it get? It’s an accomplishment and a motivation to move on, to continue learning.

Secondly, this psychological aspect is not the only one (though I’d say it’s by far the most important). After high school, many people wish to study abroad, but such a thing is technically impossible without a good knowledge of English and a certificate to prove that. The top 10 universities in the world (which you can see here ) features two British Universities (the famous Cambridge and Oxford), while the rest are American. Therefore, English is simply vital for attending any of these (and that probably goes for every single college on that list) and that can only be recognized through a certificate acquired from one of the internationally standardized tests, such as the Cambridge one or the IELTS. In a nutshell, a good post – high school education requires a worthy knowledge of English and something to prove this. Any student aspiring to such an education needs a certificate.

There is absolutely no disadvantage when it comes to this certificate; or if there is, I fail to see it. I honestly think English is a great language, so easy to learn and just SO useful. I’ve recently found out that one can actually skip the foreign-language examination in the final 12^th grade if one has the Cambridge certificate – so here you go, another advantage.

I’m not saying this just for the sake of it – I honestly have taken none of the Cambridge exams, but I’m planning on taking the FCE this March and the CAE this summer, if possible. They’re important for me as well as for my future, and, you know…better now than later.

Acest articol este scris pentru concursul organizat de centrul de invatare a limbii engleze Shakespeare School, în parteneriat cu amdoar18ani.ro.

 

2 months

Pentru ca au trecut 2 luni si in momentul asta ascult videoul cu “Sighisuara”. Post Concert Depression, I guess, and it just won’t go away.

 

Nothin’ better to do.

Asta e o chestie care cica se numeste Alphabet of Life, furata de pe un blog. Enjoy.

A
- Available:  Somehow…not.
- Age: Too young for legal drinking, too old for Disney cartoons. (or so they saaay…)
- Animal:  O mata neagra.

B
- Birthday/Birthplace: 2 oct/hospital
- Best Friends: Don’t believe in such a thing.
- Body Part on opposite sex: The eyes, the eyes…
- Best feeling in the world: Go find it.
- Best weather: Autumn rain.
- Been in Love: So it seems.
- Been on stage?:  Din pacate.
- Believe in yourself?: Incredibil de mult.
- Believe in life on other planets:  Probabil. Undeva, departe.
- Believe in miracles: Again, so it seems.
- Believe in Magic: Aye.
- Believe in God:  Aye again.
- Believe in Satan: Nah, not really.
- Believe in Santa:  But of course
- Believe in Ghosts/spirits: hmm…sa zicem ca nu.
- Believe in Evolution: To a certain extent.

C
- Car: Una care nu va rezista prea mult daca mai pun mana pe ea de cateva ori.
- Candy: CHALKLAT.
- Color: Mov, negru, verde
- Cried in school: Yep, several times, for several reasons.
- Chocolate/Vanilla: CHALKLAT.
- Chinese/Mexican: Mexican.
- Cake or pie: Apple pie!
- Countries to visit: Islanda, Finlanda, Norvegia, Danemarca, Suedia, Anglia, Irlanda, Franta, Portugalia, Croatia, Austria, Elvetia, Olanda, Luxemburg , America (Alaska), Egipt, Australia, Peru

D
- Day or Night: Night.
- Dream vehicle:  Ceva care sa mearga.
- Danced:  Teoretic, da.
- Danced in the rain?:  Aye.
- Danced in the middle of the street?:  Aye.

E
- Eggs:  Le detest, cu exceptia omletei facute de bunica si prajiturilor.
- Eyes: Eyes.

- Everyone has: Issues.

- Ever failed a class? Nawp

F
- First crush: hmm. Era un tip la gradinita. Aveam vreo 4-5 ani. Il chema Alexandru. Apoi prietena mea cea mai buna i’a adus un cadou de Craciun. Toata gradinita a aflat ca [i]s-au pupat pe botic[/i]. Nice start, eh?
- First thoughts waking up: Shit.
- Food: CHALKLAT.
- Fruits:  Green apples.

G
- Greatest Fear:  Apa adanca.
- Goals:  Multe.
- Gum:  Cam orice
- Get along with your parents? With my dad.
- Good luck charms: a little reindeer, a guitar pick, a little folded paper.

H
- Hair Colour: şaten.
- Height: 1,65 (aprox.)
- Happy: Sunt si asa, uneori. Hard to believe.
- Holidays:  Christmas.
- How do you want to die: Content.
- Hate: Narrow-minded people.

I (In guys/girls)
- Eye colour: Light.
- Hair Color: Whatever.
- Height: Taller than me
- Clothing Style:…Decent.
- Ice Cream: COOKIIIEES.
- Instrument: Whatever. Even guys playing hurdy gurdy can look hot.

J
- Job:  Part-time writer, part-time keyboard player, part-time a major annoyance.

K
- Kids: Are nice.
- Kickboxing or karate:  No idea. o.O
- Keep a journal? Nu chiar. Sau daca da, atunci e unul foarte neconventional.

L
- Longest Car Ride: 12h, or something like that.
- Love:  Love ce?
- Love at first sight: Cica ar exista.

M
- Milk flavour: CHALKALT.
- Movie: The Village, Finding Neverland, Shawshank Redemption, Everything is illuminated, What’s eating Gilbert Grape, Disney stuff (old ones), Green Mile, Lord of the Rings etc.
- Marriage: Poate.
- Motion sickness?: Aye.
- McD’s or KFC: McD’s.

N
- Number of Siblings: one
- Number of Piercings: teoretic, 2. Adica, stii, unu’ in fiecare ureche. Hopin’ for more.
- Number: 19
- Nickname: Glady, Runa, Mirunicuticutica

O
- One wish: To have 1001 wishes.
- One phobia:  Deep water, am mai spus asta.

P
- Place you’d like to live: Sibiu, Finlanda, Islanda, Anglia, Irlanda, o mansarda in Paris.
- Pepsi/Coke: Coke

Q
- Questionnaires: Me likes ‘em.

R
- Reason to cry: The emoness of this question.
- Reality T.V.:  Daca Amazing Race e unu’, atunci ala.
- Radio Station: City fm, cand chiar nu am ce face.
- Roll your tongue in a circle?: Yep, I can do that.

S
- Song:  Ever Dream
- Shoe size: 36, 37
- Slept outside: But of course.
- Seen a dead body?: Decat la TV.
- Smoked?: Am incercat.
- Shower daily?: Duh.
- Sing well?: Hahahahahahaha.
- In the shower?: Absolutely.
- Swear?: Mai nou, nu prea.
- Stuffed Animals?: Fara numar.
- Single/Group dates: Groups are funnier.
- Strawberries/Blueberries: Strawberries.
- Scientists need to invent: Solutions to everything.

T
- Time for bed: 21-6
- Thunderstorms: I absolutely adore them.

- Touch your tongue to your nose?: Nu

U
- Understanding: Guess not.

V
- Vegetable you hate: Dovleceii.
- Vegetable you love: Rosiile? Dunno.

W
- Weakness: Pffffffhahahaha.
- When you grow up: Never, hopefully.
- Which one of your friends acts the most like you: Hmm. nu stiu.
- Who makes you laugh the most: Tickling.
- Wanted to be a model?: No way.
- Where do we go when we die: Somewhere.
- Worst weather: Vara, temperaturile alea de 40 de grade.
- Walk with a book on your head?: Aye

X
- X-Rays: What about them?

Y
-Year it is now: Duuude, no idea.
-Yellow: tulips suck.

Z
- Zoo animal: Me likes ‘em all.
- Zodiac sign: Balanta.

Si gata. Yay.

 

Ceai. Ceai ceai ceai ceai.

I’m bored to death. To death, I tell you.

Asa ca m’am hotarat sa scriu pe blog. Despre ceai.

Mie imi place ceaiul. Mie imi place ceaiul de fructe, imi plac ceaiul verde si ceaiul negru, ceaiul alb si probabil o sa’mi placa si ceaiul galben cand o sa apuc sa gust. O sa fiu foarte oldschool, though, si o sa spun ca ceaiul meu preferat este cel de tei, pentru ca asa’l facea bunica. De tei, indulcit cu miere si cu prajituri cu visine langa.

Nu cunosc multi oameni carora sa le placa ceaiul. Adica, stiti, sa le placa pe bune. Banuiesc ca nu e o chestie tipic romaneasca sau poate ca ideea de a sta linistit cu o carte in mana stanga si o cana de ceai in dreapta deja e no-fun pentru multi. Mie o cana de ceai mi se pare pare perfecta pentru orice ocazie, te trezeste dimineata, te vindeca (temporar, ma rog) de insomnie, te calmeaza, te binedispune, te racoreste, te incalzeste etc.

Eu am multe amintiri frumoase legate de ceai. (Propozitia asta suna ca luata din caietul unui copil de clasa a IIIa )  Incepand cu povestea cu bunica mentionata mai sus, continuand cu o cana de ceai verde pe undeva prin Londra, una de ceai negru cu iasomie intr’o dimineata ploioasa, una de ceai cu mere, pere si scortisoara prin Sighisoara (sau Sighisuara cum spun unii, niste ignoranti) ascultand Vivaldi, un tea shake sau un ice tea la Metoc intr’o seara frumoasa, un Yogi Power in Carturesti (cum spunea ea: “my mouth will never be the same”)  sau pur si simplu zilnicul meu ceai verde cu 5 biscuiti in timp ce ma uit la chestia aia de pe History despre suedezi si vikingi. Daaaa am un ceai verde bun cumparat de la englezi (pentru ca ei o fac cel mai bine :  ) ) un Ceylon Gunpowder  si in zilele in care stau acasa (adica toata ultima saptamana, yay for having awesome parents) il pun sa se faca la 3, il pun la racit pana la 3:30, il pun la frigider pana la 4, apoi il pun intr’un pahar cu un cub de gheata si ceva lamaie verde si ma bucur fericita de el. (poti sa te bucuri nefericit? o.o ma rog, sa zicem ca e licenta poetica)

 

Ca am adus vorba de La Metoc, e un loc dragut pe care il recomand tuturor. Nu ma obosesc sa elaborez, The Powers that Be v’au dat Google, folositi’l cu intelepciune.  Mi se pare dragut ca e asa de aglomerat, si acolo, si la Cotroceni… nu stiu cati oameni vin strict pentru ceai (nici eu nu ma duc pentru asta :-j) dar e dragut oricum. Sunt niste locuri mai…altfel. Maine ma duc cu niste prietene la ceainaria Green Tea de care am auzit da’ la care n’am ajuns pana acu’…sper sa fie atat de “taaaaaaaaaare”  cum am auzit.

Ah si sa nu uit sa mentionez povestea cu mansarda, pe care insa nu o elaborez, pt ca face Sabina asta pt mine. (o gasiti la blogroll, e platypusnustiucumnustiuce ) Ideea e ca noi o sa stam intr’o zi in Paris intr’o mansarda foarte draguta, si ea nu stiu ce o sa faca si eu o sa lucrez la Disneyland si o sa o pictam si o sa avem multe multe carti (asa ca Popsi care le are pana in tavan ) si un pian mare si negru si in timpul liber am hotarat sa deschidem o ceainarie, la parter. Si va fi taaaare, da da da.

Ma rog, revenind. Ideea este ca mie imi place foarte mult ceaiul. Si va recomand si voua sa va duceti acum si sa va faceti un ceai. Face bine, tare bine.

Update: Am fost la ceainaria aia, Green Tea. Este prea mare pentru mine, ceaiul galben nu a fost bun absolut deloc, prajiturelele au fost putine si scumpe, muzica inexistenta etc. Noroc de companie. : )

 

Ah well, probabil asta va deveni fraza mea preferata:

My British blood is boiling. hurray for the 5 o’clock tea.

Din nou, ciordita de pe deviant fara a cere permisiunea cuiva. Credits to doubtful-della.

 

I do have a happy side.

Let’s put a (genuine) smile on that face

 

Not autumn anymore.

Pentru ca anumite persoane au citit un post vechi cu o chestie boring and useless scrisa in urma experientei traumatizante de a merge cu o masina noaptea cand soferu’ nu are carnet ) si le’a placut, m’am gandit sa postez si a doua parte, scrisa tot cam pe’atunci. Surprinzator si asta suge la fel de mult, but meh. Trying to make people happy. A fost scrisa cam anu’ trecut pe vremea asta, deci am o scuza.

-again, no title-

-They’re all a bunch of liars, I concluded, though my thoughts had no beginning. For the only true conclusions are the ones about nothing, the ones with an end but without the beginning. More like an instinct, slithering through our minds, creeping on our tongues – the poison of truth.
- Who?
- Them, I said, pointing at the sky. They call it the silence before the storm. But that’s such a big, fat lie.
I watched the clouds gathering at the sky’s feet. I chuckled, imagining God like a chubby old man, unable to see us because of those clouds. I thus concluded I must have clouds in front of my eyes.
- Well, you can’t hear the silence because you insist on playing this CD over and over again.
- You can’t hear silence. You taste silence. You smell silence.
He didn’t say anything, so I went on rambling.
- But it’s not the lack of silence that bothers me. It’s the soft rustle of the darkened sky. Can you hear it? It rushes around us, choking the wind. And it sounds like… it sounds like smoke.
- Cigarette smoke.
- Aye, I said sheeply, drowning

(…there’s things inside that scream and shout…)

all the smoke inside with happiness and Heineken. Two magic H’ s.
- Hocus-Pocus Holopainen.
Couldn’t remember where I got that from. He just threw me a bewildered look, then took the cold beer can from my hand, apparently unable to drink from his own.
And there lay the wheat fields, bathed in a shadow of gold, glimmering with the inside light that dead plants sometimes gather. It was gray, actually.

(They were grey.)

But it seemed golden because of its dryness, because of the incandescent storm, because of the storm and the beer.
- I hate metaphors, you know.
- I wish I understood what you’re saying.

(…so tear me open, but beware…)

- When I find out what I’m talking about, you’ll be the first to know, I assure you.
It was a wicked, wrong sunset. The sun was falling through those neverending wheat fields. Through each sunflower which threw its brown head down to the dry earth, beheaded by too much heat and luminosity.
And then, the clouds disappeared. There were only shapes, embraced by pink and gray silhouettes, reflecting in my window and meddling with the wilderness outside.
A thunder roared, shaking my thoughts.

(… I’ve been brought back in this storm and left so far out from the shore that I can’t find my way back…)

They hid into round corners, like a flock of lost birds.
- Here it goes, he smiled in his weird way, looking like this was the highlight (or high light) of his life.
And I saw it too – too bright to bear a colour. Like a god of harmony, a deity above Good and Evil, the divinity of simply Being, uniting the clustered sky and the dry earth. Fragile, thin like the memory of a daily walk in the park – you don’t know it’s there unless you want to see it. It cut through all the mists, through that blind purple shade of a stormy sunset, through

(…Where they’d love to watch you drown…)

the now-darkness of the wheat and through the cigarette’s smoke.
- Bye, bye, sunset.
- Are we still nowhere? I asked, still staring at the lightning, which stayed embossed on my retina.
- No. We’re in a where now. We’re not heading to the storm. Now we’re finding it.
- Don’t we need a when?
The sky gathered its

(…Time is a face on the water…)

tides. They came toward the long-gone rays of sunset, like waves, breaking in blue foams of lightnings.
The wheat fields had finally been replaced by a whirl of yellow birds, surrounding, dancing, creaking their frightening songs in the grey mist.
- So now we’re there? Where there’s none of them?
- Yes.
I inhaled deeply, put out the cigarette and opened the window. My green blouse fell off my shoulder, leaving a white sting inside my head.
Oh yes, I reached with my hands and grasped it with my mind and it was there, the harsh air, the evening awakening, the song, the birds, the butterflies falling from me into that insane whirl of storms and feathers. And yes, I grasped them all.

(Patience…)

- This is quite a good one, he said, turning the volume up.

(Patience…)

- How’s it called?

(Patience…)

He waved his hand in front of my eyes, which were closed (I was just trying to see better), agitating the little orange dot in my mind.
- Patience.
- Ok. The beer is over, by the way.
I yawned, put my elbow on the window and my head on my elbow and closed my eyes again, carefully listening to the smoke and flashing orange shades.
And the wind and rain were lashing at my bare shoulder and my hair was lashing at my face, and the echo of time was lashing at my insides while the tone of that voice knocked with so much strength that I gave in and let it shape my soul according to its own will.
His voice and the storm. Time and fields of wheat. So much smoke and only a few thunders.
And somewhere, squeezed through all of these – me.

Quotes from Guns N’Roses, Metallica and The Dark Tower.