So there's no elephant in the room. The huge red jumping elephant is long gone.
But there's always something. Maybe it's a giraffe, a rhinoceros, a flying pig or just a crocodile. We all get a "pet" like that, or sometimes a herd of them, or even an entire zoo.
There are however ways to deal with it.
Some ignore it, pretend they don't see it, buy zoo filtering glasses and go on with their lives as if there is no unbearable noise, foul smell, and terrible overcrowding. They may even try to move, but the zoo is sure to follow, they're quite good at tracking.
While others challenge the intruders, fight them, buy zoo-repellent sprays. They declare a full fledged war to the intruders and make their lives about getting rid of them.
Why not just acknowledge them, feed them, cleanup after them and live with them until they leave peacefully and on their own? Or maybe you won't need them to leave.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
in between there's something else
Still incapable of tying my high hidden hopes to the obvious and clear appearances, I suffocate my intuition with facts and figures.
My imagination works extra-hours, wild with colorful fairytalish sounds, while I judge every detail with cold pessimistic logic.
Able to paint my mask with surgical precision; but when I don't, my face will expose me to the most inexperienced reader.
I will break down right in front of you with no fore-notice or good-enough reason but I will pull myself together when all hell is breaking loose.
I need to know precisely where I stand, count all measurements, make listed plans in order to create and entertain my chaos and comfortable anarchy of mind, word and objects.
Desperately seeking attention, getting the spotlight will only make me blush-and-go-hide.
I find myself continuously running back and forth between the extremes, bewildered sometimes to be at both ends at the same time. Exhausted, I look in between me and I to find a self that's inside-out, upside-down, inverted.
My imagination works extra-hours, wild with colorful fairytalish sounds, while I judge every detail with cold pessimistic logic.
Able to paint my mask with surgical precision; but when I don't, my face will expose me to the most inexperienced reader.
I will break down right in front of you with no fore-notice or good-enough reason but I will pull myself together when all hell is breaking loose.
I need to know precisely where I stand, count all measurements, make listed plans in order to create and entertain my chaos and comfortable anarchy of mind, word and objects.
Desperately seeking attention, getting the spotlight will only make me blush-and-go-hide.
I find myself continuously running back and forth between the extremes, bewildered sometimes to be at both ends at the same time. Exhausted, I look in between me and I to find a self that's inside-out, upside-down, inverted.
Monday, May 3, 2010
dac'as avea... o insula...
- de trei ori pe zi i-as schimba numele
- ieri as uita de ea
- maine si numai maine m-as duce acolo o saptamana
- ar fi pustie in fiecare zi intre orele 7 si 9 seara
- as face pe ea crescatorie de palarii, azil de cani si rezervatie naturala de triciclete
- raspoimaine as face-o firmituri si as da-o la porumbei sa o zboare
- noaptea as muta-o ca sa o caut ziua
- poimaine as exila acolo pe cineva pe care nu vreau sa-l mai vad, si acolo nu l-ar vedea nimeni
- as sapa-o gropi de ascuns ganduri negre
- in fiecare weekend as sechestra pentru o luna pe cineva acolo sa-si aeriseasca mintea
- as ploua-o cu stropitoarea ca sa rugineasca repede
- as planta o padure de leagane
- ai putea sta acolo 13 zile si 9 nopti fara sa intalnesti pe nimeni
labels:
cu tricicleta pe coclauri
Thursday, April 15, 2010
give
sometimes I wake up missing something I never lost
sometimes I loose things I never had
sometimes I have things I never needed
sometimes I need things I never knew
sometimes I know things I never fought
sometimes I fight things I never understood
sometimes I understand things you never say
sometimes you say things I regret
sometimes I regret what I cannot forget
sometimes I forget things I am
sometimes I am the things I promised
sometimes I promise things you don't trust
sometimes I trust you to try
sometimes I try to tell the demons away
sometimes I tell myself enough is enough
sometimes I tell myself I'm not enough
sometimes I wish I was
and sometimes I can almost belive that even though I can't fight my own wars, I can win yours. and then you can quiet mine.
but some time I will give up if you give nothing.
sometimes I loose things I never had
sometimes I have things I never needed
sometimes I need things I never knew
sometimes I know things I never fought
sometimes I fight things I never understood
sometimes I understand things you never say
sometimes you say things I regret
sometimes I regret what I cannot forget
sometimes I forget things I am
sometimes I am the things I promised
sometimes I promise things you don't trust
sometimes I trust you to try
sometimes I try to tell the demons away
sometimes I tell myself enough is enough
sometimes I tell myself I'm not enough
sometimes I wish I was
and sometimes I can almost belive that even though I can't fight my own wars, I can win yours. and then you can quiet mine.
but some time I will give up if you give nothing.
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