Am mai zis ca eu nu ma uit la televizor, n`am in camera si in rarele dati cand ajung in fata unuia de obicei poposesc pe vreun canal de documentare.

Aseara eram la un prieten acasa, la o bere si`o samanta ca sa zic asa, si am prins stirile sportive de pe protv. Au inceput cu fotbalul. Zic ca e normal, asa e de cand stiu, e sportul rege, exista foarte multi microbisti… Dupa alta stire din fotbal, sau mai bine zis legata de fotbal, ceva de coruptia arbitrilor. Dupa alta, legata de nu`sh ce altercatie dintre doi jucatori pe teren, jucatori straini. Dupa… alta ce ne anunta cum s`au intalnit nevestele fotbalistilor la nu`sh ce petrecere. Comentarii asupra tinutelor, asupra fitelor… Da frate, asta e sport.

O singura stire despre un alt sport a fost prezentata, una despre volei. Si nu, nu va ganditi ca prezenta ceva de interes national, gen vreun rezultat al unei echipe, antrenori sau ceva. Nu, ni`l prezenta pe primul jucator chinez negru din echipa nationala a chinei. Da, un galben`negru ca sa zic asa ce spunea ca lui nu`i pasa de culoare si ca vrea sa joace.

Gata stirile, o seara placuta in continuare la ProTv. Wtf?

As the dawn breaks and a little glaze of light makes its way trough the shades, they are together in bed, lying side by side with no worries, with nothing on their minds except the love they felt.

The day became more and more violent and filled the room with a painful brightness. And even if most people think of light as being pure and warn, not capable of any kind of destruction, they both knew what was going to unfold, damning the sun and the revelation it caused.

Another popular belief is that light means the truth, opposite to the dark, filled with lies and mischievous deceit. But there are those few times in life when you don’t want to hear the truth, you want to bury it deep inside your soul and let it root, hoping it will never see the light of day.

And the light meet the truth and they saw what was surrounding them. She slowly got up and starting getting dressed. He watched her from the far, even if she was in his reach. Maybe he wanted to think it was still the dream he had a little earlier. Maybe the light made him see that this was what was supposed to happen, that the time had come for the truth to make itself heard.

All his being was screaming inside in a desperate attempt to make a difference, his heart bleeding rivers of blood, hurting like no other time. Even so, he said nothing, sitting there quiet, looking at her, and smiling in a weird way.

She didn’t understand his smile, wasn’t him aware of what was about to happen, could he not care? She also kept these questions to herself, as he did with his pain. She was glad he was quiet, it made her job a lot easier.

He dared to throw a last glance at her naked breasts reliving all the moments he had her all to himself, together in a timeless moment, holding each others bodies, not caring about the world. She felt his look like she did in the past but this time she didn’t cover herself, calling him a pig for staring. She let him enjoy her body for one more time, even stopping for a second, just enough for him to take a mental picture.

His pain seemed to have vanished for a second replaced by pure love. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how he wants to cherish her forever, how she should come back to bed, how they should make love and fall asleep, her hugging him and his head on her bosom. Then love became rage, he saw her with another, being touched, being smelt, being happy. That thought killed him and made him angry, wanting to scream at her. How could she do this to him, how could she let another touch what was his to have and not to share, the most precious thing in his life. Again, he kept quiet.

While she finished dressing he got up from the now cold bed. He seemed to have more strength and broke the silence Nu vrei sa bei o cafea? / Nu pot, trebuie sa ajung acasa. she answered giving the impression that she wanted to stay but couldn’t. They both knew she was lying.

He followed her into the hallway and again watched her, this time putting her shoes on. She stood up and looked at him with a trace of regret that soon faded away. Her eyes were filled with some sort of peace. She knew that what was about to come will be a hard and painful period, but it all was for the best. This was what should have happened a long time ago, she was just the one to find the power to do it first.

He sent back mixed feelings. He hated her for leaving him all alone to face the world. He loved her for being what she was and for letting him discover her, piece by piece, like a human puzzle. He was grateful because she was ending it, even though he didn’t want to, or just didn’t have the power to do it, it was the right thing to do.

She looked at the ground, not knowing what to say to him. He was part of her, he had her heart, he was her best friend and her lover. He lifted her chin and said Capu` sus, o sa fie bine, ai sa vezi…. She looked at him with those big green eyes filled with tears and smiled, like she used to whenever he was nice to her. He winked at her and kissed her forehead.

Pa. was the last word he could bare to say. She stood there thinking that this was the last chance to take it back, to go back to bed. Pa… she replied going down the stairs. The sound of the door closing behind her crushed her head in and let out all the tears. She got in the cab, he went back to bed.

… ma`tii. Ca mi`am pierdut spiritul Craciunului am mai zis`o si probabil voi mentiona asta in fiecare an, ca deh, “trebuie sa scrii ceva de craciun”. Insa acela al pasteului a disparut de foarte mult timp, din copilaria mea frageda cand nu prea stiam ce se intampla cu mine.

Contactul initial cu sarbatoarea pascala l`am avut la tara. Acolo preotul trebuia sa se imparta intre doua sate asa ca pe rand facea slujba ba devreme, pana`n miezul noptii, ba dupa. Asta se intampla in toate serile, pentru ca daca nu stiati sunt 3 ritualuri separate.

Joia se canta “Evangheliile” sau ceva de genul asta. Joi se sta la priveghi. Fiecare baba aduce cate ceva de mancare si de baut, scovergi, gogosi sau alte d`astea, in mod obligatoriu de post. Ritualul consta in citirea a 12 evanghelii, parca, ce reprezentau 12 ceasuri…

Vineri este prohodul. Vineri Iisus a fost inmormantat. Partea interesanta este ca se inconjuara biserica de trei ori cu crucea. Era o mare onoare sa fii unul dintre cei care carau acea cruce.
Mai tarziu, la oras, nu se inconjura decat o singura data, si se mergea prin cartier, inconjurarea bisericii fiind imposibila din cauza anexelor construite pe langa ea.

Sambata e ziua pe care o cunoaste majoritatea populatiei, atunci cand se duc sa ia lumina. Multi nu prea stiu ei de ce se duc, dar “asa se face”. Toata lumea e la biserica, se ingramadeste sa ia cat mai repede, daca pot direct de la sursa (popa) e si mai bine, e lumina mai luminoasa, mai sfanta, mai ce vrei tu.
Copiii se joaca si sting ce lumanari pot dupa care fug si tot asa.

Revenind la relatia mea cu pastele. Nicioadata nu mi`a placut. Nu mananc miel iar iepurasul nu este la fel de generos ca mos craciun. Nu inteleg nici ideea generala de a face tot felul de mancaruri traditionale pe care nu le mananca nimeni doar ca “asa se face”. Eu nu mananc miel, eu nu mananc drop, eu nu mananc stufat. Oua fierte pot sa`mi fac oricand, daca sunt rosii, albastre sau verzi nu inseamna ca sunt mai bune.

Cand eram putin mai mic aveam totusi un motiv sa ma bucur ca e paste. Puteam sa stau afara mai mult, ca eram “la biserica”. Cum bunica`mea era acolo joi, vineri si sambata aveam acoperirea necesara s`o ard aiurea prin cartier si sa beau bere la pet cu bajetii. De obicei eram beti pana la 10 si pana la 1-2 cand ne intorceam acasa ne trezeam. Deh, eram si noi copii, n`aveam voie sa facem prea multe asa ca ne bucuram de aceste momente de libertate puse in spatele lui Doamne`Doame, in fata caruia ne ceream normal iertare si intram in biserica sa aprindem cate`o lumanare inainte sa bem.

Ma voi duce si`n seara asta, asa cum o fac in fiecare an, sa iau lumina, porbabil si pasca pentru ai mei. Ma voi intalni cu nemo si alte persoane, ne vom intoarce la mine si vom bea o bere, pentru ca acum am voie sa beau acasa…

Muie portofel.
Muie mousepad.
Muie medalion.
Muie pachet de kent 4.
Muie folie de decasept.
Muie pieptene.
Muie toc de ochelari.
Muie elastic de par.
Muie cana cu o gura de 3 in 1 ramasa pe fund.
Muie fotoliu.
Muie pat.
Muie tot ce ma inconjoara.
Muie viata!