marți, 20 aprilie 2010

si pt ca autorii preferati ne mai dezamagesc uneori

Eliade m-a dezamagit. In Sarpele. Dar, dupa cum stiam deja, Eliade-autorul de literatura a pierdut lupta in fata lui Eliade-istoricul religiilor. As merge si mai departe spunind ca Eliade-autorul de nuvele fantastice e superior lui Eliade-autorul de romane.
Prea contaminat de proza lui Eminescu, in Sarpele Eliade nu reuseste sa fie natural; dar, raportata la 'anxietatea influentei' teoretizata de Harold Bloom, aceasta contaminare e fireasca. E firesc ca intreaga noastra literatura sa fie 'influentata' de Eminescu, la fel cum literatura engleza il are pe Shakespeare.



Nu intreb de ce citim carti azi, de ce nu citim carti, de ce il preferam pe X in locul lui Y, de ce nu mai e citit Sadoveanu astazi, etc. Nu ma intereseaza. Cel putin nu acum. Vin insa cu alta intrebare: ce ramine dupa ce citim o carte?

duminică, 18 aprilie 2010

Intre ciocan si nicovala

Plecind de la intrebarea din 'gindurile' anterioare (What is it that makes life interesting?) iata un posibil raspuns: ambivalenta. Totul e descompus in doua parti egale – bine si rau, iad si rai, alb si negru, mama si tata, prietenie si rivalitate, ura si iubire, ambitie si delasare...

Astfel, viata noastra e mereu prinsa intre ciocan si nicovala. Lucrurile ar fi fost mult mai simple daca ar fi existat doar o fateta, o perspectiva, o viziune. Atunci sigur ne-am fi revoltat ca nu avem posibilitatea sa alegem, insa apoi ne-am fi resemnat si am fi acceptat viata asa cum ar fi fost ea: monocroma. Insa nu, noi avem la dispozitie o paleta intreaga de culori. Putem huzuri linistiti, pina cind ciocanul si nicovala se ciocnesc. Si atunci trebuie sa alegem.

Dar e al naibii de greu sa alegem... si asta, dragul meu, face viata interesanta. Si complicata, insa asta e doar o nuanta, un detaliu. :D

sâmbătă, 10 aprilie 2010

The magic of Life or What is it that makes Life interesting?!

"From the midst of this darkness a sudden light broke in upon me – a light so brilliant and wondrous, yet so simple, that I became dizzy with the immensity of the prospect which it illustrated."
[Marry Shelley, Frankenstein]



Me, several years ago: the beauty of Life resides in its simplicity, natural beauty and elegance. It is appreciating Life that matters, and not the creator or how the creation looks like. So, after reading these lines, I strongly advise you to close your eyes and take a deep breath. Then open your eyes and start to Appreciate, to Enjoy, to be Grateful, to Smell, to Hear, to Feel... start living your magical Life!



Me, now: What is it that makes Life interesting? One word: people. Humanity. Man's intricate structure. Memories, or, even better, experiences. People come and go. This is one difficult lesson that Life taught me. At first, I didn't want to accept this. I didn't want to let them go... I couldn't. I was angry. But it is true. People do come and go. And what matters the most is remembering and learning something from them.


I saw you this morning.
You were moving so fast.
Can’t seem to loosen my grip
On the past.
And I miss you so much.
There’s no one in sight.
And we’re still making love
In My Secret Life.

I smile when I’m angry.
I cheat and I lie.
I do what I have to do
To get by.
But I know what is wrong,
And I know what is right.
And I’d die for the truth
In My Secret Life.

Hold on, hold on, my brother.
My sister, hold on tight.
I finally got my orders.
I’ll be marching through the morning,
Marching through the night,
Moving cross the borders
Of My Secret Life.

Looked through the paper.
Makes you want to cry.
Nobody cares if the people
Live or die.
And the dealer wants you thinking
That it’s either black or white.
Thank G-d it’s not that simple
In My Secret Life.

I bite my lip.
I buy what I’m told:
From the latest hit,
To the wisdom of old.
But I’m always alone.
And my heart is like ice.
And it’s crowded and cold
In My Secret Life.

joi, 8 aprilie 2010

indignare

in mijlocul depresiei, in mijlocul tristetii, auzi un plinset. un plinset gol, rotund, care nu mai e al tau. un val de indignare te cuprinde. nu intelegi cum nici macar acum nu poti plinge linistit; cum nici macar acum, cind pt prima data renunti la masca, de teama ca lacrimile o vor strica, nu te poti bucura de fiecare clipa a durerii; cum nici macar acum ceilalti nu te lasa singur. si esti nervos. esti nervos pt ca ai vrut un moment numai al tau, in care sa nu mai stii de nimeni. iti plac oamenii pt ca sint colorati, insa acum ei mai tare te obosesc. ai nevoie de singuratate ca de aer, ori ca de masti.

in mijlocul depresiei, in mijlocul tristetii, cineva iti intinde o mina. tu, furios, tai mina aceea. indignarea revine. cum isi inchipuie ei (ei care sint prietenii tai, ei care te cunosc atit de bine) ca in momentele astea ai nevoie de altcineva decit de tine?! cum isi inchipuie ei ca te pot salva scotindu-te la suprafata si nu lasindu-te sa te lupti cu tine?!

auzi un plinset. un plinset gol, rotund, care nu mai e al tau. te indignezi. acum nu ai nevoie de alt plinset pt ca asta te-ar ridica la suprafata. pt ca toti stiu ca nu ii poti lasa sa plinga. pt ca trebuie sa fii acolo, linga ei, ori asta te-ar face sa amini inca o data lupta aceea teribila, insa al naibii de interesanta . ei nu pot fi singuri acum. ei au singuratatea in restu zilelor.

asa ca trebuie sa acoperi cu masca lacrimile. nu le poti sterge. poate ca nici nu vrei. le lasi sa inghete pe obraz pina cind ceilalti vor uita de tine si te vei reintoarce, bucuros, la lupta. indignarea nu te paraseste nici acum, insa trebuie sa faci asta pt ca in mijlocul depresiei, in mijlocul tristetii, auzi un plinset. un plinset gol, rotund, care nu mai e al tau.

miercuri, 7 aprilie 2010

dreams, desires, colourful aspirations

"It´s the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting."

It sounds almost perfect in theory. And after reading this quote, our hearts fill with joy, enthusiasm, bliss and we push aside all the bad things from our lives. So we start believing (again), we start enjoying and loving everything; though not long ago this 'everything' seemed so dull. We begin to feel important and blessed. But this feeling lasts until we face, once again, LIFE; life in all its shapes and colours; life with its touch of humanity; life with all its masks and actors... And then we begin searching for quotes like this one: small, good moments of happiness, of hope and strength.

But is it really like this? Do our dreams come true? Is life interesting due to our desires and dreams? I doubt it. Usually, our dreams don't come true. That's why they are called dreams. Most of the time, we are so preoccupied of living that we forget about ourselves, about fulfilling our aspirations. However, we cannot live without them. We need these small lies. It's normal, human even. Our childhood dreams are replaced by others, which, sooner or later, we'll be replaced too.

So, please do answer this: what is it that makes life interesting?!