Erase and rewind

De-ar fi asa de simplu... Punct, si de la capat, cu forte noi, cu credinta ca totul va fi bine si frumos, cu increderea nestirbita in propria persoana si in cei din jur. De-ar fi asa de simplu, probabil ca am trai o mie de ani fericiti si nestingheriti, nu am mai albi nicioadata si nu ne-am lupta cu ridurile din jurul ochilor. De-ar fi asa de usor, ne-am ierta erorile si pripirile de moment, convinsi fiind ca totul o sa fie bine, intr-un final, mai devreme sau mai tarziu. Dar viata nu e asa de simpla, invatam asta an de an, cu fiecare esec, pierdere sau dezamagire pe care le incasam fara drept de replica.

Din fiecare experienta traita ar trebui sa invatam cate ceva, din greselile noastre sau din greselile altora. As vrea sa-mi dau seama si de data asta care e lectia, ce trebuia facut altfel, cum am fi putut opri drobul de sare sa se pravaleasca la vale. Poate e nevoie de ceva mai multa vreme, sa acopere totul cu putina uitare si cu transparenta, ca sa putem deschide ochii mai luminati. Deocamdata totul e incetosat si fara noima. Incerc sa ma bucur ca uite, si de data asta, am picat in picioare, insa nimic nu mai e la fel.

La fiecare sfarsit de an ne dorim "un an nou mai bun", ducandu-ne singuri cu vorba ca o sa fie bine, sau, in mod ideal, "mai bine". Pentru ca tocmai am pus capat unui capitol important, in care am investit poate mai mult decat eram in stare sa o fac, de aici si dezamagirea enorma, imi doresc ca noul an sa-mi aduca energia unui nou inceput si puterea de-a uita ce-a fost, de-a intelege ce se intampla in jur si ambitia de a demonstra, a cata oara, ca pot. Si, Doamne, daca nu e prea mult, fara dezamagiri anul asta...

Punct. Si de la capat, in 2010.

La multi ani!

***

If only it were that simple... Period, and from the beginning, with new strengths, with the belief that everything will be fine and beautiful, with unwavering trust in yourself and in those around you. If only it were that simple, we'd probably live a thousand years happily ever after, we'd never go white again and we wouldn't struggle with wrinkles around our eyes. If only it were that easy, we'd forgive ourselves our mistakes and momentary hastiness, convinced that everything will be all right, eventually, sooner or later. But life isn't that simple, we learn that year after year, with every failure, loss or disappointment we take without right of reply.

We should learn something from every experience, from our mistakes or from the mistakes of others. I would like to figure out this time what the lesson is, what should have been done differently, how we could have stopped the salt drip from going downhill. Maybe it needs a little more time, to cover it all with a little forgetfulness and transparency, so that we can open our eyes a little brighter. For now everything is still and meaningless. I'm trying to be glad that look, and this time, I've fallen on my feet, but nothing is the same.

At the end of every year we wish for "a better new year", taking it upon ourselves to say it will be good, or ideally "better". Because I have just ended an important chapter, in which I have invested perhaps more than I was able to, hence the enormous disappointment, I wish that the new year will bring me the energy of a new beginning and the strength to forget what has been, to understand what is going on around me and the ambition to prove, for the umpteenth time, that I can. And, God, if it's not too much, no disappointments this year....

Period. And from the top, in 2010.

Happy New Year!

Limba noastra-i o comoara, in adancuri infundata/ Our language is a tresure berried deep

E infundata de cineva, adica, de noi, de duiumul de ineptii de pe internet, de oamenii de comunicare cu prea mare dorinta de a se adapta "noilor tendinte din PR". Pe mormantul proaspat mai arunca din cand in cand cate un pumn de tarana neagra niste stimati academicieni care mai lanseaza cate o varianta de DOOM, sa ne invete pe noi, idiotii care ne straduim sa fim cat mai literati cu putinta, sa scriem analfabeticeste.

Tin postul asta in mine de la ultima editie a PR Week (care n-a fost asa cu multa vreme in urma, sa fie vreo luna). Il tin in mine din lipsa de timp, insa nu vreau sa uit sau sa o las treaba asta netaxata. E vorba despre o idee care mi-a facut parul maciuca la simpla enuntare. In cadrul elogiului adus epocii web 2.0 (sau x.0, cat mai e ea), s-a lansat ideea ca viitorul limbii romane este internetul...

Sincer, nu cred ca majoritatea celor din sala au fost la fel de ofuscati ca mine la ideea asta. Poate sunt de vina Facultatea de Litere, si Theodor Hristea, si doamna profesoara Dindelegan, care mi-au bagat in cap cu forta ideea ca trebuie sa vorbesc si sa scriu corect. Drept pentru care sunt unul dintre cei care scriu cu mare reticenta acum niciunul impreunat si pe care ii doare sufletul de doua ori cand scriu odata.

Refuz cu indarjire sa devin analfabeta. Fac alergie cand vad de asemenea scris impreunat, ma doare creierul cand citesc sânt scris asa, cu î din a! Dragilor, stimabililor, colegilor de breasla, va rog eu frumos, desfundati limba noastra din adancuri, ca se duce de rapa, si meseria noastra, odata cu ea (scris impreunat)!

***

It's being berried by someone, that is, by us, by the plethora of nonsense on the internet, by communication people with an over-eagerness to adapt to "new PR trends". On the fresh grave they occasionally throw a fistful of black dust by some esteemed academics who throw a DOOM version, to teach us, the idiots who strive to be as literate as possible, to write illiterately.

I've been holding this post in my head since the last PR Week (which wasn't that long ago, make that a month or so). I keep it in me due to lack of time, but I don't want to forget or leave it untaxed. It's about an idea that made my hair stand on end at the mere mention of it. As part of the eulogy to the web 2.0 (or x.0, whatever it is) era, the idea has been floated that the future of the Romanian language is the internet...

Honestly, I don't think most people in the room were as offended as I was at the idea. Maybe it's the Faculty of Letters, and Theodor Hristea, and Mrs. Dindelegan, who forcefully put into my head the idea that I must speak and write correctly. That's why I am one of those who write with great reluctance now, "niciunul" together, and whose soul hurts twice when I write "odata".

I stubbornly refuse to become illiterate. I get allergy when I see "de asemene" written together, my brain hurts when I read "sant" written like that, with î in a! My dear, esteemed, fellow members of our profession, I ask you kindly, unclog our language from its depths, for it is going down the drain, and our profession, along with it!

PS. I love you

Cateodata nu e nevoie decat de o dupa-amiaza linistita, de un film bun, un halat de baie moale si parfumat si de o cutie plina cu servetele ca sa-ti dai seama de o multime de lucruri absolut evidente pe care nepasator le treci cu vederea zi de zi. Am plans 2 ore in continuu, si la final m-am straduit sa dau voie unui zambet tamp sa mi se astearna pe figura umflata de-acum de lacrimi, si de ciuda, ca suntem asa de ... tuti cateodata incat ne trezeste un film si ne da cate 2 palme peste ceafa.

Nu e romantism, nu e dulcegarie, e viata pe paine, intinsa bine si uniform, astfel incat sa poata fi digerata de orice stomac, oricat de sensibil ar fi el, chiar daca iti dai seama de la prima scena ca filmul asta nu o sa-ti cada bine.

Da, iar am un moment din acela crucial si memorabil, in care ma jur pe rosu ca "de maine ma apuc de invatat", traiesc clipa, iubesc momentul, scot ce-i mai bun din viata. Oare cat o sa ma tina, de data asta? Pana la viitoarea disputa intelectuala legata de vasele din chiuveta sau de rufele de pe balcon? Nicio problema, pastraz filmul pe hard, cate o palma de incurajare nu strica niciodata.

***

Sometimes all it takes is a quiet afternoon, a good movie, a soft, scented bathrobe and a box full of tissues to realize a lot of the absolutely obvious things you casually overlook day after day. I cried for 2 hours straight, and at the end I struggled to allow a tamed smile to hang on my now tear-swollen face, and the spite that we're so ... you know sometimes that we wake up to a movie and slap the back of our heads twice.

It's not romance, it's not sweetness, it's life on a slice of bread, stretched out nice and even so that it can be digested by any stomach, no matter how sensitive it may be, even if you realize from the first scene that this movie won't sit well with you.

Yes, I'm having one of those crucial and memorable moments again, where I swear to myself that "I'll start learning tomorrow", live in the moment, love the moment, make the best of life. I wonder how long it will last this time? Until the next intellectual dispute over the dishes in the sink or the laundry on the balcony? No problem, keep the film on the hard drive, a little slap of encouragement never hurt.

Oboseala / Tiresome

Am spus de o mie de ori ca sunt obosita, ma plang de ani de zile si nu ma crede nimeni. “Esti tanara”, mi se zice, “ce o sa faci mai incolo?”. Tu, strainule cititor care ai picat din greseala pe pagina mea, esti plistisit deja sa mai auzi cat de obosita sunt, si nici tu nu intelegi de ce. Si eu m-am plictisit pe mine.

Mi-am dat seama aseara, in mijlocul unui hohot de plans, de ce sunt asa de obosita, de ce la 28 de ani ma simt de parca as fi carat in spate povara intregii lumi fara drept de pauza sau de racorire cu o gura de apa proaspata, din cand in cand. Mi-am dat seama ca niciuna dintre realizarile mele de pana acum, mari, mici, asa cum sunt ele, nu a fost usor de atins, ca pentru fiecare nimic pe care l-am facut in viata a trebuit sa dau muntii la o parte si apoi sa-i pun la loc, sa-mi rup ghearele si dintii luptand cu lumea, cu viata, cu soarta, cu prieteni si inamici, cu familie si falsi prieteni.

Si acum imi cereti sa fiu fresh?

Am sufletul ferferitit de atatea zbateri, am mintea zdrelita de planuri si incercari de a face totul perfect, da la carte. Poate ca unele lucruri nu trebuie sa fie facute ca la carte, poate ca ar fi mai sanatos sa le abordez altfel. Sau poate ar trebui sa ma odihnesc, sa iau o gura de aer in piept, sa pun punct si sa o iau de la capat, cautand cu disperare forte proaspete.

Casc si mai dau o pagina, cautand cu mana cealalta cana de cafea. Sunt atat de obosita…

***

I've said a thousand times that I'm tired, I've been complaining for years and nobody believes me. "You're young," they say, "what will you do later?". You, stranger reader who accidentally stumbled upon my page, are already crying to hear how tired I am, and you don't understand why either. And I'm bored with myself.

I realized last night, in the midst of a sobbing sob, why I'm so tired, why at 28 I feel like I've been carrying the burden of the whole world on my back without the right to take a break or refresh myself with a drink of fresh water now and then. I realized that none of my accomplishments so far, big, small as they are, have been easy to achieve, that for every little thing I've done in life I've had to push mountains aside and then put them back, break my claws and teeth fighting the world, life, fate, friends and enemies, family and false friends.

And now you're asking me to be fresh?

My soul is sore from so much struggle, my mind is racked with plans and attempts to make everything perfect, by the book. Maybe some things don't have to be done by the book, maybe it would be healthier to approach them differently. Or maybe I should rest, take a deep breath, put my foot down and start again, desperately looking for fresh strength.

I yawn and turn another page, reaching for the other coffee mug. I'm so tired...

Aiurez... / Nonesense

Unde ne grabim asa, iubire? Nu vezi ca trece vremea peste noi, ca lasam in urma lucruri importante? Nu mai stim sa privim ploaia, nici curcubeul, iar de cei din jur parca nu ne mai pasa, preocupati sa tinem calea drepta.

Vreau sa cad putin aici, pe iarba rece, sa stau sa respire aerul diminetii si sa miros o floare. Ce daca ne astepata viata? Las-o sa astepte, mai avem timp. E timpul nostru. Stiu, il impartim, dar tot al nostru este.

Mi-e dor de un cer senin pe care sa-l simt cu tot sufletul, de privirea in gol si de fluturii din stomac. Mai stii fluturii din stomac? Unde s-au dus? De ce simt ca prin vene imi trece acum gheata, si nu sange? De ce ma simt mai mult moarta decat vie, si las valul sa ma poarte?

Taraste-ma pana la linia de finish, nu mai am putere, nu vreau sa ma mai grabesc. Si unde alearga toti asa? Ce e asa de minunat acolo, incat se duc toti peste noapte? De ce nu le mai place aici?

***

What's the hurry, love? Can't you see that time is passing us by, that we're leaving important things behind? We no longer know how to watch the rain, nor the rainbow, and we don't seem to care about those around us, preoccupied with keeping the path straight.

I want to fall here for a while, on the cool grass, to sit and breathe the morning air and smell a flower. What if life is waiting for us? Let it wait, we still have time. It's our time. I know, we share it, but it's still ours.

I miss a clear sky that I can feel with all my soul, the blank stare and the butterflies in my stomach. Remember the butterflies in your stomach? Where did they go? Why do my veins feel like ice now, instead of blood? Why do I feel more dead than alive, and let the wave carry me?

Te iubesc, nu-ntelegi? / I love you, don't you understand?

"Eu te iubesc, nu-ntelegi?" i-a spus ea, cu vocea tremurand, sugrumandu-si suspinul iminent. Nu m-am intors sa-i vad fata, a ramas o voce care mi-a miscat, in seara aia de mai, universul, care m-a facut sa filosofez tacuta pentru cateva momente, cu gandul aiurea, si cu vocea ei rasunandu-mi in minte. Cine era, nu conteaza, si nici povestea din spatele declaratiei disperate.

Oare de cate ori in viata ne e dat sa realizam cat de usor e sa iubesti, si totusi cat de greu este sa gasesti iubirea? E uman sa ne permitem sa nu intelegem iubirea cuiva, sau, mai rau, sa o tratam cu indiferenta? Daca nu s-ar fi inventat banii, iubirea ar fi jucat probabil cu succes rolul de moneda de schimb.

I-am strans mana, s-a intors usor si i-am zambit. Habar n-avea ce-mi trece mie prin minte...

***

"I love you, don't you understand?" she told him, her voice trembling, stifling her impending sigh. I didn't turn to see her face, there remained a voice that moved, that May evening, my universe, that made me philosophize quietly for a few moments, my mind wandering, her voice ringing in my head. Who she was doesn't matter, nor does the story behind the desperate declaration.

How many times in life do we get to realize how easy it is to love, yet how hard it is to find love? Is it human to allow ourselves not to understand someone's love, or worse, to treat it with indifference? If money had not been invented, love would probably have successfully played the role of currency.

I squeezed his hand, he turned slightly and I smiled. He had no idea what was going through my mind...

Bomba fara ceas / Bomb with no timer

Le strang treptat in mine, motiv dupa motiv, frustrare dupa frustrare, nerv dupa nerv, devin treptat o bomba ambulanta. Nu mai pot sa injur, nici macar la volan, nu mai pot sa plang, asa cum faceam odata, nu mai pot sa rad prosteste, pentru a varsa cumva tensiunea. In schimb, privirea mi-a devenit pe alocuri taioasa, deciziile imi vin rapid si dureros, chiar daca ma afecteaza si pe mine, si pe cei din jur.

Unii zic ca e de bine, altii zic ca e de rau, practic toata lumea din jurul meu are cate o pozitie referitor la schimbarea asta. Numai eu am ezitari.

Si ma schimb, si nu-mi dau seama, si ma inraiesc pe zi ce trece, ma maturizez, cica… Adica incep sa invat sa infig cutitul fara remuscari, sa il sterg frumos de sangele vinovatului, si apoi sa il pregatesc pentru urmatoarea lovitura.

Dumnezeule, ce mi-ati facut?

***

I am gradually gathering them into myself, reason after reason, frustration after frustration, nerve after nerve, gradually becoming a walking bomb. I can't swear anymore, not even while driving, I can't cry, as I used to, I can't laugh stupidly, to somehow release the tension. Instead, my eyes have become sometimes sharp, my decisions come quickly and painfully, even if they affect me and those around me.

Some say it's good, others say it's bad, practically everyone around me has a position on the change. Only I have hesitations.

And I'm changing, and I don't realize it, and I'm getting worse every day, I'm growing up, I guess... I mean I'm starting to learn to stick the knife in without remorse, to wipe it clean of the culprit's blood, and then to prepare it for the next blow.

My God, what have you all done to me?

Criza...de nervi! / Nervous breakdown

Am luat-o cu totii razna cu criza asta! 

Sunt 5 luni de cand aud acelasi refren: criza, criza, criza... Criza in presa, criza in companii, criza de inspiratie, criza de subiecte, criza de oameni, sau nu, ca aici e subiect discutabil, s-ar putea sa fie prea multi, asa se dau mari companiile care fac disponibilizari, de "crizati" ce sunt.

Nu stiu altii cum sunt, dar mie mi s-a luat definitiv de criza asta. Mi-e dor de vremile de alta data, cand interviurile in presa nu contineau invariabil raspunsuri la intrebarile "Veti face disponibilizari?" sau "Ati modificat estimarile privind evolutia companiei, in contextul crizei?".

Un subiect de presa are de regula o durata de viata limitata, insa de criza asta nu s-a mai saturat nimeni? Chiar si o veste buna e imbracata in haine de doliu, ca sa fie in trend...

Suntem pe marginea unei crize de nervi, oameni buni. O luam cu capul, unul cate unul. Incepem sa ne pierdem mintile, si pentru noi, astia care am apucat sa ne dam cu capul de criza asta, sau de hiperbolizarea ei, cuvantul CRIZA nu va mai fi niciodata la fel. 

N-ati vrea sa fim ai optimisti, sa ne axam putin pe ce merge bine, in ciuda crizei, babaul mare si urat care ne-a zapacit pe toti? 

Asta-s eu, mai optimista si mai increzatoare de fel. Poate se ia si la altii...

***

We've all gone crazy with this crisis! 

I've been hearing the same refrain for 5 months: crisis, crisis, crisis... Crisis in the press, crisis in companies, crisis of inspiration, crisis of subjects, crisis of people, or not, as this is a debatable subject, there may be too many, so companies are showing off by making redundancies, becausenwe are all in "crisis".

I don't know about others, but I am definitely fed up with this crisis. I miss the old days, when interviews in the press invariably didn't contain answers to the question "Will you be making redundancies?" or "Have you changed your estimates of the company's performance in the context of the crisis?".

A press story usually has a limited shelf life, but hasn't anyone had enough of the crisis? Even good news is dressed in mourning clothes, to keep it on trend...

We're on the verge of a nervous breakdown, people. We're taking it one head at a time. We're starting to lose our minds, and for those of us who've got our heads around this crisis, or the hyperbolization of it, the word CRISIS will never be the same. 

Wouldn't you like us to be the optimists, to focus a little on what's going well, despite the crisis, the big ugly bugger that has zapped us all? 

That's me, more optimistic and hopeful that way. Maybe it'll rub off on others...

De primavara / Spring

M-am reintors sa sterg panzele de paianjen asternute peste gandurile mele, atunci cand ele zburdau vesele intr-o parte si-n alta. 

M-am reintors sa scriu, doar pentru ca dimineata, prin nebunia orasului, cu claxoane, macarale, strigate, nebunii, am auzit, energica intr-un copac, o ciocanitoare... Si m-am trezit brusc in realitatea primaverii care ne inconjoara, si care a venit peste noi, chiar daca noi nu mai avem timp sau energie sa remarcam lucrul asta.

Si era asa de frumos altadata... Veneam fericita acasa cu ghiozdanul plin de martisoare de la scoala, si asteptam cu inflacarare sfarsitul saptamanii, sa merg cu tata sa culegem toporasi, si viorele, si lalele salbatice....de fapt nu, lalele salbatice nu mai culegeam, de cand vazusem posterul ala pe un copac in Crang, care spunea ca sunt protejate de lege...

Avem un loc unde mergeam in fiecare an, la capatul orasului, care imi parea asa departe atunci. Era liniste si pustiu, se mai auzeau in departare cateva masini trecand pe strada...

Trec des pe-acolo, si de fiecare data ma loveste in suflet sentimentul asta de fatalism si necazul ca n-o sa se mai intample niciodata. Am incercat sa vanez un alt colt de oras, al noului oras care ma gazduieste, dar nimic nu mai e la fel. E urat, trist si rece, si atat de putin ospitalier... 

A venit primavara, o alta primavara, niciodata aceeasi...

***

I returned to wipe away the spidery feathers that lay over my thoughts as they fluttered merrily to and fro. 

I came back to write, only because in the morning, through the madness of the city, with its horns, cranes, shouts, madness, I heard, energetically in a tree, a woodpacker... And I was suddenly awakened to the reality of the spring that surrounds us, and that has come upon us, even if we no longer have the time or energy to notice it.

And it was so beautiful once... I was happily coming home with my backpack full of martisoare from school, and I was looking forward to the end of the week, to go with my father to pick up some wild violets and wild tulips... Actually no, I wasn't picking wild tulips anymore, since I had seen that poster on a tree in thenparc, saying that they were protected by law...

We have a place where we used to go every year, at the margin of town, which seemed so far away to me then. It was quiet and deserted, you could still hear a few cars passing in the distance...

I pass by there often, and every time I get this feeling of fatalism and the grief that it will never happen again. I've tried to hunt for another corner of the city, the new city that hosts me, but nothing is the same. It's ugly, sad and cold, and so unwelcoming... 

Spring has come, another spring, never the same...