Funny how each day has its own destiny. Some days you wake up and you know you have a miserable journey ahead and some days you just know it's going to be glorious. It's as if life is being staged following a gigantic script and you're only an actor that must perform. You simply act and react to a cumulus of stimuli and you end up being amazed by how things unwind right in front of you.
Today I had a good day. The type of day when you feel fully awake, aware of your surroundings, like a scout on the look out, ready to react and make things happen. There is some sort of energy that it had been lent to you and you must try and make the most of it. And you do. Today I had one of those days and I wanted to make the most of it to the very end. And I did, and it will be a day that I will always remember as a benchmarking for the days when I will be asleep and will want to be awake as I am now even if it is almost midnight.
It hasn't rained all day until the evening when suddenly water started pouring down the city as if there were too many sins that needed to be washed away. People looked afraid of venturing out in the rain even under umbrellas, but I opened mine and started walking tall. Even in the rain, with my face half obscured by the umbrella, I would look at men passing by and give them an outrageously flirtatious look because I felt I could do it. I passed a guy and a girl each holding a newspaper above their heads and trying to hide next to a building. I could see his face, but the girl was totally buried under the wet pile of today's news and she looked like she wasn't having a good day. I looked at him and smiled, he smiled back. I had a thought right there and then: just because I was having a good day, he probably could find me seductive, but if he only knew how close to despair I was just a few days ago, he wouldn't even see me passing by. Or is it the other way around? Perhaps when we feel good, we spend more time over ourselves, being completely aware of our presence and somehow sending out signals to everyone else around. Or is it that when we are particularly interested in looking around, we notice people noticing us... One will never really know.

Nobody's wife

She waited in the cold for the bus for a very long time. Started to wonder if the bus was ever going to come. Came to realize that saving £40 a month by using just buses wasn't such a good deal as she was wasting a lot of time. Pfff! What else would she do with her time though?...
The bus finally came and she went upstairs, found a seat and just blankly stared outside the window. Didn't feel like reading. Not tonight. The pain in the lower back was becoming more and more intrusive and the rain was pouring more and more agressively, furiously licking the bus windows. She tried to avoid thinking about it. Rain was becoming like the song that one hears so many times that it is not audible any longer. The only thing that made her aware of the rain was the fact that she was carrying a wet umbrella and a constant state of depression.
She had thought many times of what could be the cure for depression as sun wasn't something a Londoner could rely on and the only answer was someone in her life. Following some unwritten rules of society she had avoided thinking, expressing or admitting the fact that life was no longer worth living alone. Or maybe it was the society itself which was not designed for single people. Everything was achieavable as a couple, singles had to fight twice as hard. They even counted less in credit scoring calculations. Pfff!
Suddenly she found herself wanting to caress the man seated in front of her. He had dark blond short hair and quite an adorable pair of ears. She couldn't see his face but could easily spot the big bouquet of flowers he was holding with care. She felt as if her hands reached out and started to touch his head gently, and then she would move the tips of her fingers on the margins of his ears and... And if only she could release all that love she was holding inside even if she had to hand it in fully to a total stranger with an unknown face. She remembered how once she had caressed a guy's face and enjoyed that more than the actual sensual kissing they were comitting together. What a waste, she thought. What a waste. One day she'll burst and die... With nobody to give her love to...
The lower back pain moved mischiviously up the spine and settled in the muscles of her shoulders. At least the physical pain was taking all the attention. The silent heartache was there to last and she could get back to it later. For now, she'll have to go home, take a hot bath and try to massage her shoulder muscles (or at least the ones she could reach by herself) with some anti-inflamatory cream. And hope she won't be woken up again in the middle of the night by the loudness of her loneliness. The rain keept on pouring and the night seemed blacker and blacker. People's faces bore no expression. The end of another day.

Time is (not) on my side...

Sambata seara am fost la O2 Arena la mult asteptatul concert Depeche Mode. M-am multumit ca am prins bilete la general release cu 35 de lire, desi locurile nimerite erau cocotate in fundul salii la altitudine datatoare de vertigo. In timpul concertului nu am facut decat sa ma gandesc la ce impact a avut asupra mea sa-i vad in urma cu 4 ani la Wembley si la cat de putin eram acum implicata... Nu erau cu siguranta doar locurile situate mult mai aproape de scena in 2006 (pentru care am platit atunci fara sa clipesc 75 de lire), albumul mai bun sau calitatea sunetului. Era cu mult mai mult. Era febra de a fi la un concert de asemenea valoare emotionala, era infatuarea, erau fanteziile pe care le aveam pe atunci cu Dave Gahan, eram o alta eu care traia momentul cu intensitate. De atunci a trecut mult timp si intre timp eu am devenit altcineva. Recent am fost la un concert The Editors si am constatat ca de-abia asteptam sa se temine deoarece mintea mea era preocupata de alte subiecte. Ma simt in ultima vreme de parca gonesc catre ceva si nu mai sunt capabila sa traiesc momentul fiindca stiu ca momentului ii lipseste foarte tare ceva.

Timpul. Timpul slefuieste si toceste in acelasi timp, timpul e o entitate controversata, datatoare de paradoxuri. Timpul finiseaza gusturile, opiniile, dar limiteaza placerile, imbogateste experienta, dar si cliseizeaza, timpul erodeaza corpul si ascute mintea.

Notiuni care pareau definitive, acum nu mai au aceeasi greutate. Pareri ce pareau de neclintit, pot fi acum contestate. Sperantele nutrite si visruile conturate, devin acum nulitate. Timpul aduce cu sine o liniste care nu vine din intelepciune, ci din constiinta esecului si acceptarea ratarii...

Concertele nu mai sunt o placere. Iesirile nu mai sunt o surpriza. Intalnirile nu mai constituie o emotie. Stilul nu isi mai are rostul. Efortul nu se mai traduce prin satisfactie. In final, in viata nu avem decat scopul primar de a asigura supravietuirea speciei si fara capacitatea de a-l indeplini, nu suntem decat insule plutitoare si perisabile. Timpul. Trece in timp ce scriu.

A serious case of bad Monday

I open my eyes in the morning and I instinctively know it's going to be a dragging day. I know I will get out of bed, brush my teeth, have a shower, get into the clothes I prepared from last night, apply some make-up and drag myself to work with what it seems to be the last drop of energy I have left in me.
I know I won't do it straight away, but will linger a bit more between the sheets and will eventually erect myself knowing that if I spend one more minute in bed I will be late to work beyond the expected reasonable time. I also know that it is raining outside and it will be one of those London days when rain make good friends with a cold wind and I know that I will be cold no matter which one of my many coats I decide to wear.
I know I will get into work, open my Mac and while it loads all the settings I will go into the tiny kitchen, boil some water and make myself a coffee with the absolute knowledge that coffee will not wake me up. I know my work mates will ask me if I had a nice week-end and today I will actually say that I had a crappy week-end and won't make the slightest effort to be nice. I know I will be cold in the office as it is always so on a Monday but I also know this time I won't care as I can't be bothered anymore to demand/hope/expect.
I know that today is going to be the day when I have given up fighting, opposing. I know that all the positive thinking in the world is not going to change the fact that I am painfully lonely and that the neon lights in the office hurts my eyes. I know that tonight I will come back to a cold room with an empty heart.
I know that the more I fight it, the less it is going to give in so I finally get out of my bed sheets and go to the bathroom while emptying my head of any thoughts and preparing to take in the Monday waiting in front of me. I know.

Post-Valentines

Ca un facut, azi am fost sunata de un tip pe care l-am cunoscut acum vreo 4 luni la ambasada republicii Zimbabwe (din toate locurile din Londra acesta este probabil cel mai random loc in care m-am trezit intr-o seara de vineri) si in timp ce incercam sa imi amintesc cu cine vorbesc, am primit un mesaj de la un altul care se plangea ca l-am uitat.

De parca odata trecuta inutila zi de Valentine's, toti s-au trezit la viata si au inceput sa caute prin agende. Mi se pare intr-un final un fenomen cat se poate de simplu: iarna aduce cu sine hibernarea si pur si simplu apropiata sosire a primaverii pare ca trezeste spiritele la viata. Pana si eu ma simt lipsita de dorinta de a initia vreo intalnire si nu pot sa exclud vremea rece din motivele care ma fac sa am o atitudine refractara la a cunoaste pe cineva nou.

Ma frustreaza totusi ca nu am nici un control asupra anotimpului friguros. As vrea sa fie totul atipic, sa nu existe amorteala asta generalizata pe care iarna o instaureaza asupra oamenilor fara drept de apel, sa facem exact ce ne trece prin cap indiferent ca afara ninge sa soarele straluceste pe cer. Dar se pare ca suntem tributari unui soi de ciclu natural si suntem la urma urmei posesorii unor corpuri care raspund conditiilor de mediu.

Citeam in nu stiu ce revista sau pe nu stiu ce website ca perioada cea mai propice de a cunoaste pe cineva este sfarsitul lunii februarie iar explicatia o constituie faptul ca multi si-au petrecut Valentine's Day singuri si au decis ca e cazul sa puna capat singuratatii. Vom trai si vom vedea si oricat nu-mi place sa cred in statistici si fenomene ciclice, se pare ca ele chiar influenteaza vietile fiecaruia dintre noi...

Valentine's Day again

Valentine's Day was meant to make sigle people feel miserable and people in a relationship pressured... I hate Valentine's day, I hate the fluffy bit of it and I hate all the anti-Valetine parties, it is all equally designed to denigrate love and put more pressure on people to find it and/or keep it.

It'a yet another year when I am finding myself in no relationship whatsoever and with a feeling that I have lost the battle already. If in 30 years I haven't found anyone, I absolutely doubt it will ever happen. I am fully aware of my qualities, I know I am an appealing girl, but maybe I am one of those girls who picked a losing ticket. I absolutely wonder how people find one another... I wonder how they stay together. I wonder how love happens. I wonder why I am wondering about all these on another Valentine's Day in London...

I really didn't care about it. I went out for lunch with my friend K., went for a walk around Angel and then had a lovely coffee. But I keep on asking myself what is the matter with the world as, since I have recently established that it is not me, it's them, I have't yet convinced love to come my way...

Settling for Mr. Right Now...

Apparently after 30 women produce only 12% of conceiving eggs. Apparently a woman wrote a book called "Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough". Her name is Lori Gottlieb. Apparently we all want the same thing, we are all as scared as anyone else and as much as I do not want to agree with the idea of stopping to look for the One just because he is a myth who has never been scietifically proved, I must say she had me thinking.

I will probably marry Mr. Good Enough in a somewhat near future because I feel I want a child to validate my life and I want my child to have a father. I will also do that because there is as much loneliness as you can swallow and as much "fun" as you can have. I will probably wait for a miracle to happen so I won't have to settle for Mr. Good Enough, but I doubt that after waiting for 30 years, a couple of more years will make any difference.

I have met men that I liked but they didn't like me, I have met men that liked me but they were not even close to Good Enough (or they haven't made the effort to come close at least) and so on. All my life has been a quest for a reasonable person (I have never had impossible standards - never asked from a man something I can't offer myself!) and still all I got in return was "Not Even Close", frustration and a loveless life! Of course I am going to keep looking, but all I am scared of is that I will end up lowering my standards so much in the light of the harsh reality that Mr. Right hasn't been born yet or is already dead, that I will end up settling for Mr. Wrong!...