De fiecare data cand a aparut o suferinta noua in viata mea, am rabdat pana la un anumit punct, cand fie am ajuns la un deznodamant, fie nu am mai rezistat. Cred ca fiecare suferinta ascunde un lucru bun, care poate fi descoperit, in spatele sufernitei vietii noastre se afla o rasplata pe masura.
Cine rabda si reuseste se bucura de dar. Cine nu...nu pot sa stiu. Cert este ca de foarte putine ori am dus o durere pana la capat, de foarte putine ori mi-am pastrat credinta intacta, fara sa rup macar un strop din ea si sa o arunc aiurea in vant ca sa opresc o furtuna. La urma urmelor si blogul asta tot cam despre asa ceva este...despre suferinta.
Incertitudinea ca un anume chin si-a avut rostul face ca rasplata sa fie mai dulce, gandesc eu. Dupa ce poti sa rasuflii usurat ca ai scapat de un lucru nasol, apare ( ca la fizica ), fenomenul de inductie, cand nu mai vrei sa alegi, ci te simti ales, purtat de niste maini sigure si mangaiat de curenti de aer placuti, care spala sudoarea de pe frunte. Sufletul linistit este unul din cele mai frumoase si mai rare lucruri. Sufletul patat seamana cu sudoarea de pe un diamant sangeriu.
Cu toate astea nu pot decat sa fiu recunoscator pentru suferintele mele, am invatat cel mai mult din ele si m-am bucurat cel mai mult tot din ele. Dupa ce trece un an si privesti in urma asupra faptelor ramase, printr-un anume har strain venit de Sus, cred eu suferintele capata o placere aparte, seamana un pic cu vinul pus in pivnita. E placut sa gusti din cand in cand din el, chiar daca la inceput are o intepatura caracteristica.
Cand am avut pneumonie acum cativa ani, zaceam intr-o camera de hotel din Neptun si priveam pe fereastra. Stateam toata ziua plin de sudoare in cearsafurile cumplit de nefamiliare, pentru ca uneori erau reci alteori erau insuportabil de calde, pe masura ce frisoanele se jucau noaptea cu mine. Tratamentul destul de puternic pe care l-am luat nu ma ajuta deloc, inghiteam pastilele cu oarecare chin, fiindca in sinea mea stiam ca nu vor avea efect, asa e cu tratamentele '' de casa''. Intr-una din nopti avut cosmaruri. Pana cand intr-o zi m-am trezit de dimineata si m-am dus sa vad marea pentru prima oara, m-am plimbat putin pe mal, apa imi gadila vinisoarele de la talpi, am baut si un ceai, singur pe o terasa. Nu poti sa ramai ingandurat cand vezi marea, e prea frumoasa si rapitoare ca sa-ti permiti, o jignesti. Totusi eu m-am gandit ca s-ar putea sa fie ultima mea zi. Am cerut mila. Dupa-amiaza febra nu mai scadea. Luasem deja peste limita normala de nurofen-uri si fiole de algocalmin. Spre inserat m-au dus spre spitalul din Constanta la Urgente. Mi-am revenit, destul de repede, chiar pe drum. Cred ca marea mi-a raspuns. Sau poate cineva mai mare decat marea. Lumea fuge cand aude de Dumnezeu, se gandesc la fanatici si bigotisti sau protestanti. Totusi, eu datorez multumiri pentru ziua aceea, pe care le spun intr-o sincera si admirabila tacere. Dumnezeu e mereu cu un pas inaintea omului, Iti multumesc!
vineri, 6 aprilie 2012
sâmbătă, 9 ianuarie 2010
Albastra Poveste
Tainica stire
Frica,zvacnire
Val de plutire
Albastra iubire
Nori si-o cununa
Visele-aduna
Nopti fara luna
Albastra furtuna
Sange-n scrisoare
Ploi trecatoare
Teama de soare
Albastra uitare
Falsa dublura
Soapta pe gura
Tainica ura
Albastra tortura
Umbre-n portita
Tremur de vita
Strasnica spita
Albastra domnita
Ascuns de credinta
Firav in nestinta
Lipsit de vointa
Albastra dornita
Singur pe strada
Munti de zapada
Nu vrea s-o vada
Albastra fatada
Subita nesitre
Timp de gandire
Sticle,amintire
Albastra implinire
Durere acuta
O floare tacuta
Coaja de nuca
Albastra naluca
Miros de tristete
Pierduta noblete
Sperante razlete
Albastra finete
Minciuna din bere
Faianta, cadere
Frivola placere
Albastra-ncheiere
Sfarsitul chiar este
Ascuns poate peste
O moarte sau veste
Albastra poveste
Frica,zvacnire
Val de plutire
Albastra iubire
Nori si-o cununa
Visele-aduna
Nopti fara luna
Albastra furtuna
Sange-n scrisoare
Ploi trecatoare
Teama de soare
Albastra uitare
Falsa dublura
Soapta pe gura
Tainica ura
Albastra tortura
Umbre-n portita
Tremur de vita
Strasnica spita
Albastra domnita
Ascuns de credinta
Firav in nestinta
Lipsit de vointa
Albastra dornita
Singur pe strada
Munti de zapada
Nu vrea s-o vada
Albastra fatada
Subita nesitre
Timp de gandire
Sticle,amintire
Albastra implinire
Durere acuta
O floare tacuta
Coaja de nuca
Albastra naluca
Miros de tristete
Pierduta noblete
Sperante razlete
Albastra finete
Minciuna din bere
Faianta, cadere
Frivola placere
Albastra-ncheiere
Sfarsitul chiar este
Ascuns poate peste
O moarte sau veste
Albastra poveste
luni, 9 noiembrie 2009
No matter how the weather is her plain figure is always the same. Her constant gaze touches everyone’s thoughts. Throughout the past days I have seen her in the coffee shop. Her hair…brown, eyes brown and she’s always dressed in colours that fit her completely.
Orange, green sometimes gray or black. I never did speak to her. Nobody ever did. But I know she’s a writer, because she writes in a notebook, and the simplicity and the air of balance coming from her tell me she’s a good writer.
She stays in front of the oak tree, with the yellow leaves above her head, alone, drinking her coffee, rejecting strangers with a look, that makes anyone run away.
It’s not love at first sight. Sure the first time I saw her I thought she looked fine, but soon I forgot about her. But then I noticed her again at the same wooden table with a cup of coffee.
No, there is no reason why she sits there. But the more I look at her I find an endless stream of inspiration. Just seeing her sit there with the coffee, behind her the autumn trees, sun shining through some clouds, cars passing by, nothing spectacular. Just plain simple.
I used to be all about complex feelings and things hard to understand. But it’s the simple things that are really hard to understand. Now I’ve fallen in love with her simplicity, her flare, her presence there is nothing on my mind so catching like her. It might be some kind of degeneration of love, some new age love. Some might call it so. But I feel so calm and quiet even when I’m near her table or even when I’m not.
I guess I’ll never ask her something or talk to her. Not because of fear of rejection, because I know she’s gonna be there the next day and so on. I see her there in the coffee shop she’s always mysterious, but not in a dark way, in the light way if that makes sense.
She does not make me fly, but she makes me feel so sure on my senses better than anything else, she dosen’t make me dream or not sleep at night, I can feel her presence on my fingertips or is it just the sun’s light..? I’m trying to catch a gray butterfly here… and this butterfly is called peace, not happiness but peace. Because happiness fades away. You can’t be happy forever right?
She’s plain simple like an apple. It’s the newest feeling I get. Like that feeling you get when the rain stops. I have no idea what her name is, but I don’t even want to find out, I would be disappointed. No name could be fine enough for her.
She’s plain simple like I said. I think I’ve fallen in love with the girl in the coffee place!
Orange, green sometimes gray or black. I never did speak to her. Nobody ever did. But I know she’s a writer, because she writes in a notebook, and the simplicity and the air of balance coming from her tell me she’s a good writer.
She stays in front of the oak tree, with the yellow leaves above her head, alone, drinking her coffee, rejecting strangers with a look, that makes anyone run away.
It’s not love at first sight. Sure the first time I saw her I thought she looked fine, but soon I forgot about her. But then I noticed her again at the same wooden table with a cup of coffee.
No, there is no reason why she sits there. But the more I look at her I find an endless stream of inspiration. Just seeing her sit there with the coffee, behind her the autumn trees, sun shining through some clouds, cars passing by, nothing spectacular. Just plain simple.
I used to be all about complex feelings and things hard to understand. But it’s the simple things that are really hard to understand. Now I’ve fallen in love with her simplicity, her flare, her presence there is nothing on my mind so catching like her. It might be some kind of degeneration of love, some new age love. Some might call it so. But I feel so calm and quiet even when I’m near her table or even when I’m not.
I guess I’ll never ask her something or talk to her. Not because of fear of rejection, because I know she’s gonna be there the next day and so on. I see her there in the coffee shop she’s always mysterious, but not in a dark way, in the light way if that makes sense.
She does not make me fly, but she makes me feel so sure on my senses better than anything else, she dosen’t make me dream or not sleep at night, I can feel her presence on my fingertips or is it just the sun’s light..? I’m trying to catch a gray butterfly here… and this butterfly is called peace, not happiness but peace. Because happiness fades away. You can’t be happy forever right?
She’s plain simple like an apple. It’s the newest feeling I get. Like that feeling you get when the rain stops. I have no idea what her name is, but I don’t even want to find out, I would be disappointed. No name could be fine enough for her.
She’s plain simple like I said. I think I’ve fallen in love with the girl in the coffee place!
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