Ode to my family

"...He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others - the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know you are sad. I am not sad, I am not sad.

Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of the bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by mid afternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad."

Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is illuminated

mda, masina...

eh, pe modelul binecunoscut de nevasta pescarului (o stiti, individa aia mica si rea careia nimic nu ii convenea, pam-pam!) ia sa zic eu doua vorbe despre filmul meu cu masina. am luat carnetul acum cateva luni si am condus nici foarte mult, nici exagerat de putin, cat sa imi fac mana, ochiul si nervul :). evident, conteaza enorm ca am condus aici si nu in Bucuresti, pentru ca m-as fi speriat atat de tare / inrait atat de cumplit, ca ar fi fost o catastrofa either way.

una peste alta, imi place, e super power & freedom trip si asta se aplica uneori pana si in Romania, unde am facut un drum de cosmar infrastructura wise pana la Targoviste acum doua saptamani, dar de vis companie & atmosfera wise.

eniuei, revenind la nevasta pescarului, unde mi se buseste mie filmul este la partea in care masina este considerata confort si animal de companie mandatoriu pentru mersul la job in fiecare zi. intrucat majoritatea joburilor sunt lipsite de viziunea orientata spre rezultate sau, chiar si avand-o, tot se asteapta la niste ore de prezenta standard, sunt cateva ceasuri matinale, respectiv de dupa amiaza tarzie in care traficul este foarte aglomerat. am condus de cateva ori pana la birou, sunandu-mi in cap apocaliptic replica auzita de nenumarate ori: "stai sa te obisnuiesti tu sa mergi cu masina, ca nu te mai dai jos din ea. ce mers pe jos, ce bicicleta, ce autobuz?"

frate, o fi pentru altii, dar nu pentru mine. ma simt prinsa in capcana in masina in aglomeratie. sunt intr-o cutie, intre alte cutii, trebuie sa fiu mereu atenta, ma tarai ca moartea in vacanta si ajung deja obosita la munca. si asta aici, unde se conduce ok si lumea e de treaba, nu vreau sa ma gandesc cum ar fi fost in Romania. nu mai pot sa ma zgaiesc pe geam, de citit nici vorba, nu mai respir, nu mai vad frunzele rosii, nu mai simt viata in jur. stau in cutie si pun frana, frana, frana.

sau ma pot sui pe bicla si sa zbor pe langa Moselle, sa ajung in 10 minute la autobuz, sa ma intind ca o pisica cu cartea sau sa ma culc, sa las soferul autobuzului sa se ocupe de trafic si frane, respectiv sa ma bucur de toate culoarele prioritare pentru transportul public si sa merg alte cateva minute din statie pana la birou, inmagazinand sunete, imagini, fete de oameni si povesti.

am fost deosebit de furioasa azi ca batea vantul asa de tare incat a trebuit sa ma intorc cu bicicleta acasa si sa iau masina. I love you bike & bus, no car will ever tear us appart.

later edit: zic de prea multe ori ca am probleme cu Romania, nu?

feeling cute and psycho

via