Imi propusesem sa scriu despre concertul Judas Priest, cu grandoare si spectacolul pe care le-a adus, despre mainile intinse in aer si pletele scuturate ritmic, despre decibeli, lumina si culoare. In cap insa mi se zbat alte ganduri, alte senzatii si alte idei. O sa scriu despre timp si despre felul in care se scurge el, mai repede peste unii si mai greu peste ceilalti.
Un bilet m-a condus inapoi in timp, in vremea cand eram si eu, ca si ei, acum, rebela si nebuna. Am vazut in jur poate cei mai frumosi oameni, asta pentru ca gusturile nu se schimba niciodata. Am simtit ca pentru mine anii astia, care au trecut din liceu pana acum, mi-au pus pe umeri mult mai multe decat lor, cei din jurul meu, care nu-si tradeaza nici pentru o secunda varsta. Poate ca sunt mai trecuti prin viata decat mine, dar au ramas cumva ancorati acolo, in vremurile bune si lipsite de griji.
Ma uit parca cu stupoare in jur, si nu-i mai inteleg. Afara sunt peste 35 de grade, si ei poarta bocanci si negru, atat de mult negru... Ma simt rupta din alt film, parca nu imi am locul aici, nu mai sunt de-a lor. Si imi amintesc doar vag cum am fost odata, cand bocancii faceau parte din uniforma, chiar si pe plaja. Si ma trezesc muncita de ganduri atat de stupide, incat imi vine sa plang, de superficialitatea mea si de imposibilitatea de a trai momentul.
Viata e o eterna ocazie de a face alegeri. Pe unele le faci cu ochii inchisi, fara a reliza macar impactul lor asupra vietii. Am ales ce sunt acum, ma simt bine in pielea mea, chiar pot spune ca de multe ori sunt fericita (pentru ca superlativele nu sunt realiste). Si totusi, nu pot sa nu ma intreb daca nu cumva m-ar fi caracterizat mai mult uniforma de rocker rebel, decat tinuta office.
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I had set out to write about the Judas Priest concert, with the grandeur and spectacle it brought, about hands in the air and rhythmically shaking hair, about decibels, light and colour. But other thoughts, other sensations and other ideas are swirling in my head. I will write about time and the way it flows, faster over some and harder over others. A note took me back in time, to the time when I was, like them, now, rebellious and crazy. I saw perhaps the most beautiful people around, that's because tastes never change. I felt that for me, these years that have passed from high school to now, have put so much more on my shoulders than theirs, those around me, who don't betray their age for a second. They may be further along in life than I am, but they're still somehow anchored there, in the good, carefree times. I look around in amazement, and I don't understand them anymore. It's over 35 degrees outside, and they're wearing boots and black, so much black... I feel like I'm out of another movie, like I don't belong here, I'm not one of them anymore. And I only vaguely remember how I once was, when boots were part of the uniform, even on the beach. And I wake up exhausted by thoughts so stupid, I feel like crying, my shallowness and my inability to live in the moment. Life is an eternal opportunity to make choices. Some you make blindfolded, without even rereading their impact on your life. I chose what I am now, I feel good about myself, I can even say that I'm often happy (because superlatives are not realistic). And yet, I can't help but wonder if my rebel rocker uniform might have characterized me more than my office attire.
