whatever

Uneori ma simt singura, parasita prin lege de toti...Camera asta e o insula pustie, in ea nu am nici o amintire...e "goala" si rece... Calculatorul face ca acest dormitor sa para si mai ostil... Stau ore intregi in pat, si astept sa adorm, ochii imi stau deschisi.
Neclipind vad parca o lumina ce se departeaza, intind mana sa o prind, sa nu o scap, insa ea ma invaluie, si parca ma poarta departe, in camera bunicilor, unde sta patul cel vechi, pe care saream cand eram mica, unde sunt multe....prea multe amintiri frumoase...
Casa bunicilor, care era plina de bibelouri de portelan, mileuri si vesela scumpa. Camerele care miroseau a rom si a scortisoara, bunica ce pregatea de toate, bunicul ce aducea lapte proaspat, cainele, castanul, usile mari din lemn, jucariile ingropate in cufar, puiul caruia i-am pus cruce din bete de chibrit la "mormant", puii de pisica, geamurile, capcanele, iepurii vecinului, toate, UNDE SUNT ACESTE AMINTIRI???!!! !@#$ ce caut in aceasta casa saracacioasa, unde nu am decat foarte putine amintiri?
In viitorul apropiat bunicii nu vor mai fi, casa va fi altfel, sau poate nu va mai fi nici ea, iar eu si copilaria mea ne vom topi si ne vom scurge printre gratiile neputintei. :(

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Iarasi stau si ma uit pe tavan. Nu mai pot dormi. La ce bun? Daca tot ceea ce avem noi mai important nu e , atunci pentru ce sa il inlocuim? PENTRU CE? Ma bucur ca inca mai am senzatii de deja vu, si ca inca mai tin minte cate ceva....

♥♥♥

Again?

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When I was just a child, there lived a man about who I thought he'll live a long time from then on, but now I realise that I was wrong...
Iuliu, is a decorator, he've been painting the walls and repairing the stoves even since my mother was 3 and her parents were, well, they were young as well... Aflter about 20 years, I got born, and during my childhood I saw him repairing the stoves, cleaning out the chimneys and painting the walls of the rooms...
He was a black-skined man, tall and slim, with big brown eyes, not beautiful, but ok. He was the son of a hungarian woman and a gipsy man... He didn't manage to speak very well Romanian, even though he had been living in Romania since he was 19, but we always understood his Romanian; he wasn't rich, and he wasn't headstrong, so he always accepted our help which was consisting in money, clothes, food, or other stuff.
In the spring, I knew that Mr. Iuliu had to come and help my granny with the spring cleaning. Now I know he won't come anymore, 'cuz he's ill... :( , he's in coma, and even though the people say that he'll recuperate his health, I don't agree with them... He'll die, I know it.
And here we are again, face to face with the Death, who's calling us, and is taking everybody in her kingdom, which has no limits. I feel like all of us we are walking on a bridge, we are all together, and one by one they fall down in the black fog of the abyss which never ends. That means they die... One by one, important persons in my life died. I meant, just their body died, 'cuz their image, and their memories will remain here, in my mind, untill I'll pass the skip to the other Kingdom, untill I'll be next to them.

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