My name is…

Posted: august 28, 2013 in Aberatii

Fusesem intrebata de ce mi-am schimbat numele pe maretul facebook… Cand vrei sa scapi de trecut, il stergi, incet, incet. Mai raman urme pe care inca nu stiu sa le sterg, adrese e-mail la care sa renunt. Cu numele ala am fost cunoscuta pe forumuri. Eheee cate mistouri au fost facute pe seama lui. Nici in franceza nu am scapat de “8-8″.

Dar revenim la origini: Lela.

Asa-mi spuneam cand maltratam toate cuvintele. Asa mi-a spus sora-mea. Asa mi-au spus ai mei cand mi-am luat zborul din cuib, desi si inainte mai foloseau numele asta. Mi-a devenit drag.

Lela si Inda. Greu de separat, cum erau si Alexandra si Silvia. Mi s-a parut mereu ciudat sa aud un alt nume pe langa Alexandra, cand era vorba de o sora, mai ales mai mica.

Alexandra Lela. De ce sa renunt la origini?

( poate o sa reusesc sa schimb si numele blogului, inca o parte din trecut ce trebuie stearsa. Nu mai sunt Naru de mult timp. Sau poate ar fi mai simplu sa renunt la blog. Am depasit varsta.)

Terms and conditions

Posted: august 24, 2013 in Ganduri

Fear not, beloved. Your golden cage awaits, filled with all you can wish for. I’m all you could ever need, this is safety. This is love.
—————————–

How do you teach love?
What are the guidelines,
the terms, the FAQ?

How can you love?
What do you have to do,
the butterflies…do they…
just happen?

When do you learn that
your conditions
can never be accepted?

When do you find you have to
write that contract
together?

How do you detach the strings?
How do you follow,
how can you be followed?

Why would you constrict,
why would you obey?

How do you draw love?
How do you attract the loved one?
How do you make it yours?
How do you domesticate it?
How do you make it stay?
How do you keep it alive?
( 24/08/2013)

T_ _ en_

Posted: august 24, 2013 in Ganduri

Ten is but a number,
that’s how it will remain.

Have I any regrets, is it just pain?

You know I’m good with details,
I know them all, those 24 hours.
It was at 3 o’clock,
we got it all wrapped up,
without the “you may kiss…”

How come it never struck you?

Was it all happy, was it all joy?
We each hold a different story,
just as we made very different ends.
This too shall come to pass,
today will fall into oblivion,
water will pass under the bridges I burnt,
things will remain untold.

Lies I tell myself,
lies you want to make mine,
lies that kept us apart,
lies that pulled you together.

I wish you happiness,
I wish you can smile again,
I wish you the life you’ve always wanted.
Never know my pain, never feel it,
it’s too much of a burden.
But for your sake, I wish you never feel.

An object called desire

Posted: august 19, 2013 in Criptat

I knew her since she was silent.
She knew me since I was mean.

She took my picture one afternoon.
I took her hand at a crossroad.

I have waited long for her to show up.
She waited for me to be late.

She wore dresses and all the pretty things.
I wore jeans and all my worries could fit in.

I had to learn to smile again.
She has to learn her worth.

She ran away for me.
I cried for help that once.

Her navel is my temple,
her hands are guidelines,
her feet teach me silence,
her mouth knows no hate.
Her back is the straightest I’ve ever known,
her knees, the loveliest sight,
her silence is the most patient.
Her skin holds onto dreams,
her hair shakes off the nightmares,
her legs scare off my demons,
her words keep me sane.
Her lips soothe my anger,
her arms hold me back,
her fingers draw futures.

I knew her when the world was no more.
She knew me as we begun to explore.
She knew me when pain was a state of mind.
I knew her as one of a kind.

My favourite time of the day,
my favourite colour,
my favourite place in the world,
my favourite odour,
my favourite quote in the book.
My favourite moment of silence.
( 19/08/2013)

Rigor mortis

Posted: august 13, 2013 in Criptat

Still as a body, I forget to move.
Legs are nowhere to be found
and the heart, ah, the heart,
does it still beat?

Strikes that come one after the other,
flesh is torn apart.
Another wound, another scar.

I am made of scars, bruises, scabs,
and wounds that never healed.
Each passage mattered, each kick
is deeply engraved in me.

My skin?
A mass of wrinkles, stretches, marks,
wounds and scars.
All can say out loud “I was there!”
Was I, really?
Gaps that stay unfilled,
Blanks that leave me colourless,
memories that use my skin
as parchment.

I’m shedding this skin as I go,
but the writings stay.
I step out of this body,
I leave it good for dead,
I leave it still and stiff,
To forget what it means to feel.

And then I go dead.
There is calm, there is peace.
There is void in this rigidity,
there is nothing to be felt,
there is nothing more to say.

One more blow, one more bruise,
One more word, another cut,
One more story, one more scar,
One more void, another drop.

There is a little bit of death
in each cut.
There is a little bit of hope.
There is some life left
in this trickle of blood.
There is despair,
that the pain won’t be enough.

There won’t be enough of me
for all that’s to be written down,
for all the pain this body
just can’t take in.

Scratch by scratch,
blow by blow,
bruise by bruise,
cut by cut,
scar by scar.
I destroy just to better build.

Memento mori.

(23/06/2013)

D day

Posted: august 5, 2013 in Criptat

Defy me,
Deify you.
Du hast mich.

Display publicly your affection,
Drive the nail to the bone.
Dust up conventions,
Dug up old scars.

Destroy the past,
Deconstruct the myths.
Desire.
Disobey.

Deal the cards anew,
Dream of despicable aces,
Discard the bully.
Decide upon: right or left? (or was it “wrong”?)

Destruction, you feared,
Death weighed upon you,
Denial was your answer.
Delightful misery.

Drumming fingers on
Dirty deeds.
Dire needs.
Dormant delusion.

Delay no longer,
Dwell no more,
Dumbfound dull destiny.

( 04/08/2013; 12 days in advance)

Posted: iulie 27, 2013 in Adult life

Nu imi regret trecutul, nu regret locul pierdut, vezi tu? Nu regret nici macar ca tiza mea are tupeul de a lua locul ce mi-a apartinut timp de 10 ani. Ma dezgusta, ma infurie si poate ca pana la urma ma amuza cat de jos pot cobori unii. Istoria se repeta: acelasi nume, aceeasi varsta, aceeasi situatie. Dar variabilele sunt mai multe de atat. Eu nu sunt ea, ea nu are cum sa fie eu. Deci ii las locul…din decembrie e al ei, nu mai e loc de intoarcere (nu imi sta in fire sa trec in urma scursurilor, mi-e teama de pete si de infectii).

Sa fie asta ultima plangere, ultima insulta. Sa imi vad de noua viata, de fericirea pe care o construim cu mainile noastre…nu ni s-a dat nimic pe tava.

Ne-am luptat cu noi insine si cu lumea, cu prejudecatile. Stiu ca o sa trebuiasca sa o facem in continuare. Stiu ca o sa trebuiasca sa evoluez si sa inchid cu un sut puternic, si usa asta. Dar o sa o facem. Pas cu pas, ne ocupam de noi. Una de cealalta. Am reusit sa raman in viata, si asta e datorita unei singure persoane, ce stie sa ma sustina in continuare si e convinsa ca nu merita sa fac toate “nimicurile” pentru ea*.

Avem o camera, un balcon… o sa renuntam la ele in curand, dar profitam pe cat putem. Uneori suntem singure pe lume, suntem doar noi. Cliché.

Dimineata. Cafea. Tigari. Rasarit. Teza. Regasire. Placere.

 

 

 

 

*”stiu ca atunci cand o femeie da de un barbat care o raneste, e normal sa nu mai vrea sa aiba de-a face cu barbatii.” Fraza a fost auzita sub diverse forme, in diverse ocazii. Nu e adevarat. Trauma nu are de-a face in toata povestea asta. Sunt constienta de alegerea mea. Am ales fericirea, multumesc.