I can't sing.

Remember how your parents have always said, that you can be anything you want? That you need to find something you enjoy doing and make money out of it?

Well they were just trying to make you feel better about yourself, it was all bullshit.

For instance, I... Well, I like singing. I love singing, even though I've no voice at all, it's something about singing that relaxes me and calms all my nerves down. I can be content even though I'm sad, and be ecstatic when I'm happy.

I've tried recording myself singing, but the way my voice sounds inside my head, is way different than what it sounds in recording, and I realize that I deeply and truly suck. I've got no control, and there's absolutely nothing special about my voice. Furthermore every time I try singing around someone else, I can sense how they get slowly irritated and I decrease the volume down to a small mumble, like how a lady that sells vegetables in the market and mumbles a song while she puts your cabbage in a bag.

So, like, ok, I fail at life, now what?

"Well, darling, you'll have to find something you're actually good at" says the voice inside my head. I'll let you guess what I'm good at... Think about school, think about the subject you hated the most...

Yep, math.

I'm a good mathematician... and can write good algorithms for programming, but I am not so thrilled about it. Furthermore I don't have that curiosity about technology that every other geek has, I don't have the lust for it!

So what would you do? What are you doing?
a) Something you're good at
b) Something you like doing

Dimineata

Te trezesti

Sangele din corp se simte ca un pahar de mojito amestecat de pai. Cum te scoli se aseaza frunzele si zaharul pisat pe fundul acru al stomacului tau.

Ti-e rau

Nu inchide ochii, e cea mai proasta idee pe care ai putea sa o ai. Ai visa dar nu vrei, ai privi dar te dor ochii prea mult.

Te uiti in stanga si o vezi ...

Pe ea, doar pe ea... Si ea duhneste... duhneste a seara trecuta, dar totusi se odihneste si respira moale pe patul tau. Ii observi vanataiile de pe mainiile ei, si te uiti la propriile maini. Negre si mov, iti amintesc de cat ati tras unul de celalalt, si cum in curand va veti rupe in bucati de la centrifuga asta inutila...


Iti bati palmele pe pulpele picioarelor si te avanti sa te ridici...

Dar nu poti. Si te cufunzi inapoi, in patul moale care se leagana obsesiv de exact si repetitiv.

Dormi.

Dust

The dust from me
permeates the air
and up your nostril
and on your hair.

Deep in your lungs
light it descends
and gets you used
with what I am.

You get a taste
of DNA
and wonder why
you feel that way.

Our dust is skin
ground by the time
that passes by
as we lay down.

It's simple love
the type that hurts
the type that heals
and goes nowhere.

The dust from you
permeates the air
and up my nostril
and on my hair.

Baby Shit Fear

What is maturity?

That's a question that I always asked myself... and I've always had a mark in my mind, set in place by my parents. Whenever they felt like threatening me with what's to come, they said that "Don't worry, son, you'll one day be knee deep in baby shit that you'll need to clean, and all these problems that worry you right now won't matter".

Indeed, to not be grossed out by shit that doesn't belong to you, that you have to clean up, and not feeling bothered by it at all... That's maturity.


I'm 22 years old now, and I still feel like somewhat of a child. I still play Eve Online and also sometimes Left 4 Dead... But I've felt maturity take a hold of me sometimes.
If there's one thing that I feel maturity through, it's the numbness of my fingers. The power to get over bad things, the power to take suffering, and feel it, but still go on.


I probably have no idea what I'm talking about... But I'm feeling the baby shit fear fade away more and more, who knows, I might one day be ready...

Toothpaste Hourglass

I bought this new toothpaste, that comes with a very small hourglass.

What this little 2 inch hourglass is made to do is that it tries to impose how much time you spend brushing your teeth. I timed it, and it has roughly 2 minutes worth of sand in it.

2 minutes.

2 minutes, every day after each meal, means 6 minutes a day.
It means 36 hours per year.
And I brush after every meal or snack, being the clean freak that I am.

I probably waste about 3 days per year brushing my teeth and looking at myself.
supposing I live about 80 years, that would mean that I waste 240 days of my life, 2/3 of a year... brushing my teeth.

It takes a smile, a bullet, a broken condom, and your life is changed forever... And there I am, brushing my teeth....

You are so wasting time right now, right this very second. And so am I.

Hi there! I'm a loser.

Hi there!

I'm sorry if you are reading this. Surely you've got things much better to do than to read such crap. The only reason for which I've made this blogger account is because I would like to have a place on the Internet where I could vent about what a shitty life I'm living and how I can't do anything about it. I'm keeping my fingers crossed in hope of some sympathy...quite similar to all the people who post on:

http://www.fmylife.com/

Ever felt like that?
Well I feel like that almost each and every day, and despite the fact that I think about a solution to all the problems I have, I realize that I will never be satisfied.