over and over

wilco - ashes of american flags

2011-10-20T10:42:00.000-07:00

The cash machine is blue and green
For a bundle of twenties and a small service fee
I could spend three dollars and sixty-three cents
On Diet Coca-Cola and unlit cigarettes
I wonder why we listen to poets when nobody gives a fuck
How hot and sorrowful, the machine begs for luck

All my lies are always wishes
I know I would die if I could come back new

We want a good life with a nose for things
the fresh wind and bright sky to endure my suffering
I'm a hole without a key if I break my tongue
Oh, speaking of tomorrow, how will it ever come?

All my lies are always wishes
I know I would die if I could come back new

I'm down on my hands and knees
every time I hear a doorbell ring
I shake like a toothache
every time I hear myself sing

All my lies are only wishes
I know I would die if I could come back new

I would like to salute
the ashes of American flags
And all the fallen leaves
filling up shopping bags

deci da e toamna si e frig si nu am casa. da.

last cigarettes are all you can get

2011-10-20T00:09:00.000-07:00

2011-10-05T13:03:00.000-07:00

"I believe I've spent my life expecting people to behave in a certain way. I believe that when they didn't behave according to my expectations, I became angry, sad, confused and occasionally fearful. I believe these expectations are the reason I've been angry, sad, confused and occasionally fearful more than I care to admit. As a result, I now believe my expectations are the real problem. I believe that everyone has this very same problem, and they ought to start acting accordingly."

the tomato soup lady

2011-09-30T12:58:00.000-07:00

weltschmerz just like weltanschauung is just one of those german words that can explain so much and in such complex way feelings so simple. so easy. now, now don't get me wrong, most of the time I ain't such a big fan of them german words. this mainly comes from the fact that after years of studying the great german language and also some years of living in a german speaking country I still feel so far away from actually grasping it that sometimes my whole world starts spinning. sure it can definitely have a lot to do with my own shortcomings. and there are quite a lot of those. but since my own shortcomings have taken way too much of my time recently I will continue ignoring all those this-is-killing-me-on-the-inside-and-what-the-fuck-am-I-doing-and-will-I-do-panic-attacks and go on with my useless rambling of the perfect meanings of german words. or some other useless rambling. you know it's been quite a while since I've listened to a song that would obsess me for whole week, or read something that would make something click in me somewhere. ok maybe with the whole reference to weltschmerz I am trying to say how some kind of weltschmerz (I'm going through or got myself sucked into or some sort of fucked up shit I'm really good at) is really good at fucking up my whole weltanschauung. I've been back in the big city for five days. and for five days I felt I got nothing to do here. I guess that's what happens when you live more than one life. and the thing that separates them lives is one long bus ride. one very long bus ride, all alone, nothing magical about that. some crappy playlist I didn't have the time or didn't really care enough to improve is there for the ride. and then the whole process where you settle the life you're leaving in order to get safe and sound and be ready for the -you know- the other this-is-the-only-life. and there is always the people there on the bus with you. nothing fucking magical about this either. simple, empty people. and you. and for a bit you feel better than any of them. but then again for a bit you feel as empty and simple and lost and blank just like them. and as long and unerträglich (another one of those german words) this ride might seem the next thing you know you're there, the same old stop you knew you'll get. take a deep breath. this used to be easier. but not this time. this time there's something off. I too believe that what doesn't kill us makes us bitter. but I also believe in all sorts of other things, like chemistry and some connection of it with life or better my life and how I'll always pass. and there's also the few good people in my life that I believe in. stop again. take a deep breath. take a sip. take a smoke. it's all good.
"most people, they get on, they get up, they get on"
me I don't like people. me I like people.

2011-06-30T11:30:00.000-07:00

"But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep"

you think you'll never get up again

2011-03-29T09:42:00.000-07:00

ura de dimineata. I used to think that kindness wasn't a weakness and I had no fucking problem with compassion.
si toti oamenii din jurul meu I see them waking up and getting dressed all taught and shiny and their lives aren't even close to perfect and still they find a way to get out of the fucking bed and wash their faces and start anew and pull through the day. and they do it so gracefully it makes me wanna run away and disappear and never let anyone get close to me and see me and break me. when did things stop being simple and clear and when did it all get so messed up and broken and complicated? "this life came so close to never happening. you all came so close to never happening" and I just don't get it anymore, everyone seems to be faking their way through life anyway they can: love, a good job, proper friends, sex, music, drugs and all that other shit out there. and you never keep yourself from swallowing all that psycho-babble-bullshit they're selling you, all these little lies, all the shows, all the theories about love and relationships and life, the sex&the city californicating lifestyle you really want to believe it's real, it works, it's yours and you fucking take it. well why wouldn't you take it? it's not like you're a fucking masochist.
"Here we are, she thought, at the edge of the world the very edge of western civilization and all of us are so desperate to feel something, anything that we keep falling into each-other and fucking our way towards the end of days."

Desolation Row

2011-02-17T14:45:00.000-08:00

"They’re selling postcards of the hanging
They’re painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They’ve got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they’re restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row

Cinderella, she seems so easy
“It takes one to know one,” she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he’s moaning
“You Belong to Me I Believe”
And someone says, “You’re in the wrong place my friend
You better leave”
And the only sound that’s left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row

Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortune-telling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he’s dressing
He’s getting ready for the show
He’s going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row

Now Ophelia, she’s ’neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession’s her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah’s great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row

Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row

Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They’re trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She’s in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
“Have Mercy on His Soul”
They all play on pennywhistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row

Across the street they’ve nailed the curtains
They’re getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
A perfect image of a priest
They’re spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they’ll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom’s shouting to skinny girls
“Get Outa Here If You Don’t Know
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row”

Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row

Praise be to Nero’s Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody’s shouting
“Which Side Are You On?”
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain’s tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row

Yes, I received your letter yesterday
(About the time the doorknob broke)
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they’re quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can’t read too good
Don’t send me no more letters, no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row"

2010-11-14T04:11:00.000-08:00

"One wants but one seldom gets what one wants, does one? No. One gets fucked."

but i'm still here

2010-06-13T12:30:00.000-07:00

"She said to me, over the phone
She wanted to see other people
I thought, Well then, look around. They're everywhere
Said that she was confused...
I thought, Darling, join the club
24 years old, Mid-life crisis
Nowadays hits you when you're young
I hung up, She called back, I hung up again
The process had already started
At least it happened quick
I swear, I died inside that night
My friend, he called
I didn't mention a thing
The last thing he said was, Be sound
Sound...
I contemplated an awful thing, I hate to admit
I just thought those would be such appropriate last words
But I'm still here
And small
So small.. How could this struggle seem so big?
So big...
While the palms in the breeze still blow green
And the waves in the sea still absolute blue
But the horror
Every single thing I see is a reminder of her
Never thought I'd curse the day I met her
And since she's gone and wouldn't hear
Who would care? What good would that do?
But I'm still here
So I imagine in a month...or 12
I'll be somewhere having a drink
Laughing at a stupid joke
Or just another stupid thing
And I can see myself stopping short
Drifting out of the present
Sucked by the undertow and pulled out deep
And there I am, standing
Wet grass and white headstones all in rows
And in the distance there's one, off on its own
So I stop, kneel
My new home...
And I picture a sober awakening, a re-entry into this little bar scene
Sip my drink til the ice hits my lip
Order another round
And that's it for now
Sorry
Never been too good at happy endings..."

2010-04-20T13:51:00.000-07:00

"Man kann alles erzählen, nur nicht sein eigenes Leben -die Unmöglichkeit ist es, was uns verurteilt zu bleiben, wie unsere Gefährten uns sehen und spiegeln, sie, die vorgeben, mich zu kennen, sie, die sich als meine Freunde bezeichnen und nimmer gestatten, dass ich mich wandle, und jedes Wunder (was ich nicht erzählen kann, das Unaussprechliche, was ich nicht beweisen kann) zuschanden machen -nur um sagen zu können: "Ich kenne dich."

2010-04-15T03:43:00.000-07:00

si toate chestiile in care ai crezut vreodata nu ti se par acum niste prostii pentru ca ai crescut si cacaturi de genu', ti se par niste prostii si naivitati pentru ca oamenii din jurul tau nu mai cred in ele si prin urmare nu mai cred in tine si tu, well tu trebuie sa tii pasul cu ei, otherwise you'd be stuck in another place and time. si poate intr-adevat tu esti the fucked up and broken one, care traieste in trecut si crede in trecut atat de mult, ptr ca it would fuckin break you not to. walk on memory lane. where did all the good times go cand aveam cate 3 obsesii, 3 piese perfecte, 3 regrete, 3 filme, 3 vise, etc de luat pe insula pustie, cand dansam pe iris, cand beam ca sa bem impreuna.
i used to care but things have changed - oh mr bob dylan bine ca esti tu old and wise. it's always too early or too late. no ce cacat mai e si asta. o fost frumos si tare si legen - wait for it - dary! si acum ce? acum pula. candva erati cei mai tari oameni pe care i-am cunoscut vreodata si tot atunci candva eram unul dintre cei mai tari oameni pe care i-ati cunoscut vreodata. acum we're all moving on and on and on. si ne doare in pula. si devenim tot mai apatici si mai tristi si mai singuratici si cinici si mai goi pe dinauntru. cheers.

2010-03-22T16:54:00.000-07:00

"play it again... play it again, sam"

it's a lovely day

2010-03-21T17:12:00.000-07:00

(cand te trezesti intr-o dimineata si stii ca totul s-a schimbat, when everything that used to mean something lost meaning, dar tu mai tii minte totul, fiecare cuvant si melodie si gest, cand iti termini ziua cu un shot doua trei de jäger, cand ti-e dor de vara si cand o sa vina vara stii ca o sa-ti fie dor de iarna si frig si ceaiuri, si ti-e dor de vremuri si oameni si muzici si promisiuni si minciuni, cand minti and you fuckin' mean it, cand ajungi sa fii singur si sa nu-ti mai fie frica, cand bei si pierzi controlul, cand nu mai crezi nimic, cand tot ce vrei e tigara perfecta si tot fumezi si fumezi si fumezi, cand nu-ti poti scoate din cap citatul ala ca "this is all we need. a couple of smokes, a cup of coffee, and a little bit of conversation. you and me and five bucks", cand tot ce vrei e a couple of smokes, a cup of coffee and a little bit of conversation. cand stii ca de fapt e chiar simplu.)

It's a lovely day,
All the clouds are grey,
It's a lovely day for love.
It's a perfect day,
Don't be afraid,
It's a lovely day for love.

And i've been searching, searching,
Searching for love

It's a lovely day,
A strange cascade,
It's a lovely day for love.
It's a perfect day,
Don't be ashamed,
It's a perfect day for love

And i've been searching, searching,
Searching for love
for love

It's a lovely day,
Nothing else to say,
It's a lovely day for love

why give a shit?

2010-02-03T16:50:00.000-08:00

if you give a shit things get complicated, if things get complicated you stop having fun, if you stop having fun then it's just not worth it.

"and if you ever get lonely just go to the record store and visit your friends"

2010-02-01T14:25:00.000-08:00

"He turned away from her and saw the bouncy castle. It was bright blue, blue as an iris, with a bouncy staircase at one side. You climbed up the stairs to a bouncy ledge, slid and tumbled down a wide, bouncy slope, and then, to your heart's content, you bounced and bounced. Malik Solanka paid his money and slipped off his shoes. " 'Ang about," the enormous woman attendant cried. "Kids only, guv. No adults allowed." But he was too quick for her, and with his long leather coat flying in the breeze, he lept on the wibbly-wobbly stairs, leaving astonished children floundering in his wake, and at the top of the stairs, standing high above the fairground on the wibbly-wobbly ledge, he began to jump and shout with all his might. The noise that emerged from him was awful and immense, a roar from the Inferno, the cry of the tormented and lost. But grand and high was his bouncing; and he was damned if he was going to stop leaping or desist from yelling until that little boy looked around, until he made Asmaan Solanka hear him in spite of the enormous woman and the gathering crowd and the mouthing mother and the man holding the boy's hand and above all the lack of a golden hat, until Asmaan turned and saw his father up there, his only true father flying against the sky, asmaan, the sky, conjuring up all his lost love and hurling it high up into the sky like a white bird plucked from his sleeve. His only true father taking flight like a bird, to live in the great blue vault of the only heaven in which he had ever been able to believe. "Look at me!" shrieked Professor Malik Solanka, his leather coat-tails flapping like wings. "Look at me, Asmaan! I'm bouncing very well! I'm bouncing higher and higher!"

2010-01-31T19:01:00.000-08:00

cand esti beat sau doar ametit sau praf nu poti vorbi cacat chiar cu oricine. doar cu some special people poti sa vorbesti cacat. da cacat bun. am maini uscate si am cazut de pe bizikly. goddamnit! where are my socks? where's my pothead roomie?

and he shot me dead

2010-01-29T18:11:00.000-08:00

simplu si frumos. mai mult simplu decat frumos. in nopti cu vin si bus de noapte si cenusarese fara pantof si print si viata ca o cafea buna

if you walk away, I’ll walk away
first tell me which road you will take
I don’t want to risk our paths crossing some day
so you walk that way, I’ll walk this way

si ca in filmul ala enough. enough now.

paradise circus

2010-01-25T05:10:00.000-08:00

It's unfortunate that when we feel a storm
we can roll ourselves over 'cause we're uncomfortable
oh where the devil makes us sin
but we like it when we're spinning in his grip.

Love is like a sin my love
For the one that feels it the most
Look at her with a smile like a flame
She will love you like a fly will never love you, again

It's unfortunate that when we feel a storm
we can roll ourselves over when we're uncomfortable
oh well the devil makes us sin
but we like it when we're spinning in his grip.

2010-01-20T10:54:00.000-08:00

fast car on a perfect day
vara de dimineata bloody mary
cafea si tigara
bob dylan noaptea cand dormi
vodka cu sirop si lene
john lennon canta despre iubire si o iubeste pe yoko si annie le face poza cu 4 ore inainte sa moara
emma thompson in love actually
frig caciula fular si ciocolata calda in ceainarie
old and new
times like these
people are crazy and times are strange

2010-01-13T16:38:00.001-08:00

"no sympathy for the devil. keep that in mind. buy the ticket, take the ride."

i'm too sober for this shit

2010-01-08T12:31:00.000-08:00

cause i'm so clever
i'm fucked forever

beautiful

2009-12-12T13:22:00.000-08:00

.
cause it's christmas time, actually.

2009-12-08T18:15:00.000-08:00

some sort of homesick. or just sick.
think happy thoughts. think happy thoughts. think happy thoughts.
think fuckin' happy thoughts.

bits and pieces

2009-10-27T05:02:00.000-07:00

„this city, charles schwab wine, californian weed, coffee high, rave, rooftops, shiraz, sounds of the police, party and bullshit, fucked up, gays, lesbians, glamour and fake fashion, beer, the more I see, mountains, julian pie company, summer, banana bungalow, please don't go sideways on my lips, drunks and AA meetings, you too? me too? we should fuck, drugs and promiscuous sex, free dinners, free bin, music, marriot, hilton, hard rock, pacific ocean, a cave at sunset cliffs, high roadtrips, fuck you, you fuckin' hippie, hippies in the streets sitting on sidewalks, homeless wheelchair riding weirdos, cockroaches in coffee cups, friends, god only knows, the days of awesomeness in the summer, sentimentul ca traiesti si esti tu si te recunosti si e bine, to not be afraid, and go for breakfast in the middle of the night and have coffee refills and wear hats and sing in a high pitch voice, and not sleep, and you can buy me a beer and hear my story and share long cigarettes, searching for that place you belong. but really now, no explanation, no mix of words or music can ever explain that untouchable feeling of being there and alive in that corner of time and place in the world. alive motherfucker!"

"26 Sept. 2009. San Francisco. 135 Saturn. Jeremy. Steep hill. Air mattress. Art. Music. Piano. Shower. Love. Broken luggage. But no broken heart. Need sleep. No! Fuck this place. It's making me feel like I could be a part of it. A small happy little part of it."

"To see the world. To live somewhere. To make tea in the middle of the night in someone's house, watching almost famous, looking for that uncut scene. Last times, last days, last nights, last good-byes. Ca in Almost Famous cand se termina vara si toti stiu ca the dream is over, toti pleaca acasa, one more concert, New York and then home. I'm a newborn hippie motherfucker, so fuck you! Jesus freaks out in the street, homeless people begging for change. Fuck the coins, I want change. The need for all that jazz. To not forget. Fuck the ending 'cause it don't matter."

Part III

2009-10-12T17:03:00.000-07:00

San Diego Life. Lucky D‘s. The Hostel, The People, The Life, The Girls.

Cumva apuc sa scriu despre un loc dupa ce il parasesc. So here we are on the road again. California dreamin‘, road trippin‘, in masina on highway 101 cu Cri si Werner, un tip austriac pe care l-am cunoscut acum cateva zile pentru 5 minute in hostel si dupa l-am reintalnit in L.A. E un italiano-austriac din Südtirol, var cu cei mai frumosi doi baieti de pe lume. Longsleeves is the music, coffee our fuel. Heading to Santa Cruz, CA. The ocean‘s on the left, mountains on the right, here I am, broke, hobo-ing through the U.S. I‘m doing it for the thrill, let‘s go get lost. In momentul de fata nu mai avem bani, our last resort stopped being our last resort. Am ajuns in cel mai rau caz si nu ne mai putem folosi portita de scapare pentru cel mai rau caz. Yes, panic! I‘m hoping you‘ll understand and not let go of my hand.
So let‘s go back to San Diego. We left the east coast behind and went all the way to Sunny California intr-un anume capat al lumii, San Diego, locul unde oamenii se duc sa lose themselves in order to be found again. Rebirth. Zbor deasupra americii, vineri e ziua, 10 dimineata e ora, aeorportul Lindhberg Field isi deschide usile automate in cel mai pasnic mod posibil. Noi doua cu ale noastre doua bagaje, cu ultimele doua tigari din pachet si cu exact 10$ in buzunar si nici un plan, doar o adresa al unui hostel. Sitting on our luggages we embrace the San Diego morning. Oare daca ne zicea Ella de la inceput ca nu ne mai poate tine mai veneam pana aici? Da. Absolut. Baiatul de langa noi ne da ziua buna si ne intreaba daca fumam iarba, cause if we do than this is the place for it. Welcome to San Diego, romanian girls. I‘m a child at heart. I am.
Shortcut in the story: aeroport -> bus -> carat bagaje pe strazi -> hostel, Lucky D‘s. Lucky fuckin‘ D‘s man! Cause once in California...
It feels like this is the point in the whole story when I stop writing about it and the movie just starts rollin‘ in front of my eyes. No matter what way I write about it, it‘s not the way it all happened.
Hostelu asta l-am rezervat foarte de-ampulea. So here we are back in New York, in Harlem pe treptele hostelului de lesbiene si o gagica ne trimite pe Amsterdam Ave la Hostelling International ca poate ne ajuta nu stiu ce agentie located in hostelul asta sa ne gasim ceva job in San Diego. Aia nu ne pot ajuta asa ca profitam de faptul ca suntem intr-un hostel si ne luam niste flyere sa ne gasim macar cazare 2 zile in SD. Planul nostru e sa stam intr-un hostel cateva zile si dupa sa couchsurf from one couch to another. Sunam la un hostel, ala e completely booked asa ca ne dau un nr de telefon de la un alt hostel lucky ceva, vecin cu ei. „Hello, Lucky D‘s, San Diego, this is James speaking.“ We book it, Cri imi zice ca James asta pare nice ca are voce faina. I trust her, Cri stie ce stie.
So switching back to the day we checked in. Hot chip is the music they‘re playin. Jordan is working reception. He checked us in si sunt convinsa ca ne-o zis si noua absolut tot despre hostel unde-i the kitchen, the common room and all that shit doar ca nu imi pot aminti. I know we were tired and desperate so we ask him daca putem lucra acolo. He says maybe si ne spune sa vorbim cu Michelle. Michelle is the manager and she hires us. We move our shit to the staff room 415, le lasam colegilor noi de camera a note telling them that we‘re the new roomies and that we‘re nice people. Se pare ca suntem cam singurele persoane pe care Michelle la angajeaza on the spot. Why? We still don‘t know. We just got lucky.
Meanwhile we‘re still on the road living on coffee and cigarettes. No money, no place to stay in San Francisco, no working card. Broke we ride the highway. Born to be wiiiild.
On that first day there am vazut cel mai tare si psihedelic si ciudat si de pe alta planeta apus de soare. We were having breakfast on the stairs of the convention center on top of the city not really knowing what just happened and what‘s next. Rosii, cottage cheese, paine si chips-uri, cel mai roz-mov cer, cladiri ale viitorului, orasului viitorului in spatele nostru, oceanul in fata noastra si nori pufosi din vata de zahar. Hell yes.

colors and colors

2009-10-10T12:04:00.000-07:00

.

simplify.relax.breathe.enjoy.simplify.colors and colors.simple sounds.buy it, use it, break it, fix it.
ii asa usor. hold on my friend, an end is a start.

The Long Branch, The House and The New People.

2009-10-06T09:07:00.000-07:00

Am ramas candva la tanti de la Port Authority care nu vrea sa ne dea bilet pentru ca nu stim exact unde vrem sa mergem. 2 iulie 2009. And look at us now, one month later, 7 august 2009 flying to San Diego, no plan, no money, no job, no friends, no place to stay, doar doua bagaje supraponderale si 2 bilete de avion mult prea scumpe si mult prea nerambursabile. New York – Philadelphia – San Diego. Dar aici nu e vorba de San Diego, aici incerc sa imi amintesc timpul din Long Branch. Long Branch - apogeul visului vietii in the suburbs, white trash motherfuckin‘ ville, 9 oameni est-europeni intr-o casa de cacat cu cacat care iese din buda, studenti, 5 intr-o camera, dormind pe jos, pe saltele murdare luate de pe strada. Don‘t let the bed bugs bite. Din NY ajungi in Long Branch cu busu, asta daca gasesti pe cineva care sa stie unde e Long Branch, New Jersey (Jersey – the armpit of America). Noi am ajuns acolo, fara sa stim unde mergem, cine ne asteapta si daca o sa make it through that first day. Acolo nu ne asteapta nimeni, nu ne stie nimeni si nu cred ca ne vrea nimeni. Soferul busului nu stie unde e locul unde mergem noi asa ca ne lasa in gara ca sa fie un loc populat de unde putem lua taxi si sa nu ne futa nimeni. La propriu. Gara si seara si tot nu stim unde suntem si unde mergem. Asa ca luam taxi. To Sirena Ristorante please on 27 Ocean Ave. 2 iulie intr-o joi. Si acolo il cunoastem pe Kevin for the first time. Ugly motherfucker. Stiu ca i-am zis hostesei ca I would like to see mister Kevin Kopacko. Ba, Kevin, ba sugi pula! Anyway nu stie cine suntem exact, nu stie unde trebuie sa stam si unde am putea dormi si ne trimite la Stefan, asta daca il stim pe baiatu‘ ala si dupa pleaca ca el are an important restaurant to manage. Nu chiar stim cine ii Stefan, dar stim adresa la care sta. Pauza de tigara. Pier Village. Sirena. Seara. Si noi. La multi ani, Ancai. Sorry for waking you up.
Taxi. 18 Arthur Ave. Hi, is Stefan here? Tipa blonda, hot pants, mean look. Nu ne place. Nici ei nu-i place. Stefan, roman, naiv si mult prea diferit. Tindem again sa nu ne placa. Sandor si Erwin, unguri. Tipa blonda e Vika din Ucraina si mean by default si dragutu‘ ei e Vadim, un tip care daca se transforma in varcolac si ar incepe sa urle la luna ar parea cea mai normala chestie de pe lume. Oarecum. Stefan ne zice cum sta treaba, si cum ar trebui sa ii sunam ziua urmatoare pe nu stiu ce tipi care trebuie sa se ocupe de noi si sa ne dea a place to sleep, dar ca putem sa crashenim o noapte acolo ca nu se supara nimeni. We crash pentru urmatoarea luna, ptr ca oameni aia doi nu ne ajuta si ptr ca mainly sug pula. Prima noapte inghetam de frig ca cacatu‘ si a doua noapte la fel, si a treia and the next and the next pentru ca the work and travel programm sucks. Pentru ca is niste cacati. Toti. Simplu. Tot in prima seara plimbare pe boardwalk in program, cu Cri. Si cu Stefan si cu Vika si cu Sandor si Erwin. We need to get out. Terasa cu muzica. Singura. Redemption Song. Walk over. Music over. Ocean. Casa. Chainsmoking. Oai da ce mult fumati fetelor! Serios? Ai observat tu ca fumez mult? Crezi ca nu stiu and you really have to point out the fuckin‘ obvious? Crezi ca acum ma simt prost ca fumez mult si o sa fumez mai putin? Wrooong, o sa imi aprind inca o tigara. How ´bout it? Oricum, cred ca tot in seara aia le-am cunoscut pe Marta si pe Salma. Keeping it short, Salma e o nebuna (cu probabil acte in regula) si Marta e o fata naivuta si tinerica si care ii buna rau. Si oamenii astia or fost colegii nostri de camera si de viata so to say pentru o luna. O fost o luna chiar ok. (Nu am lucrat si nu am facut munti de bani ca ceilalti si la sfarsitul verii nu ne-am luat nimic, nu tu laptop si toale si ipod si tot felu‘ de chestii de care nu am nevoie de fapt. In schimb am trait mai mult si mai multe decat m-as fi asteptat.) Si dupa luna aia chiar ok o fost timpul sa plecam, sa see it and live it, si am plecat ca niste fete cam proaste si inconstiente si s-o meritat, all the fuckin‘ way.

love love love

2009-10-03T19:09:00.000-07:00

i think little loving robots should be everywhere.
intre timp m-am intors acasa. summer's gone the dream is over. e toamna si viena. bun-venit.

lovesong

2009-08-29T04:00:00.000-07:00

mai am loc. mai am asaaaaa mult loc.

special cases

2009-08-28T15:15:00.000-07:00

Don't tell your man what he don't do right
Nor tell him all the things that make you cry
But check yourself for your own shit
And don't be making out like it's all his

Take a look around the world
You see such bad things happening
There are many good men
Ask yourself is he one of them

The deadliest of sin is pride
Make you feel like you're always right
But they're always two sides
It takes two to make love, two to make a life

Take a look around the world
You see such mad things happening
There are few good men
Thank your lucky star that he's one of them

(get so lost and don't know how and it hurts to care i'm going now. san diego. almost famous. oameni cu istorii. oameni care nu mai pot fi nici buni nici rai. oameni buni care de fapt is rai. oameni fututi. vara asta ciudata. acasa care e asa departe. casa asta care isn't actually a home. like a pit stop on the way. fuck this all i need is a very cold beer.)

2009-08-26T03:26:00.000-07:00

(ce mi-am amintit azi)
and the perfect engeneering and the constant interfeering came a little close
and if there's something nice you gotta find something nicer and it hurts...

2009-08-19T21:13:00.000-07:00

tell me your story i'll tell you mine

2009-08-16T18:23:00.000-07:00

and somehow somehow somehow communicate some of the overwhelming undying overpowering unconditional all-encompassing heart-enriching mind-expanding on-going never-ending...
pentru ca imi doresc sa nu fiu aici chiar acum, pentru ca nu stiu exact unde altundeva as putea fi, pentru ca every once in a while something somehow takes me back, pentru ca vreau asa mult, pentru ca incerc sa traiesc, pentru ca am nevoie de o pauza and for time to stop for a little bit, pentru ca unele chestii raman asa cum le-ai zis and they're just there hanging, pentru ca you can't take it back, pentru ca i don't wanna take it back, pentru ca i still mean it, pentru ca i hate not being able to take control, pentru ca i need "you are home" and penny-lane and coffee and track 5 si sa ma dau cu masina and not lose myself si sa ma simt safe from harm tonight. it's good now.

nu stiu

2009-08-13T20:21:00.000-07:00

"San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run . . . but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant. There was madness in any direction, at any hour. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting — on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. . . ."

The Ride, The Arrival, The Surprise and The Girls

2009-08-07T21:27:00.000-07:00

(chestia asta am scris-o cam acum o luna, cam la o saptamana dupa ce am ajuns in Long Branch si am gasit-o acum vreo cateva zile cand impachetam ca sa leave that place. si am vrut s-o arunc da' m-am razgandit...)

ziua 1. way too long ago. daca ma gandesc la asta vad doar taxi-ul din viena zum Flughafen! tu di eirport! si noi in taxi si sudbahnhofu si sudtiroler platz si esarfa lu cri. zbor cu avionul deasupra atlanticului, 2 fete in cautarea aventurii. let us be lovers we'll marry our fortunes together...walked off to look for america. simon&garfunkel. this song explains why I'm leaving home to become a stewardess. stewardessele de la austrian airlines (futu-i in gura sa-i fut!) nu-s bune deloc. is nice blond austrian ladies da nu is bune de sa vrei sa le futi. (aveam sa aflu mai tarziu ca nici alea de pe us airways nu is bune se pare ca nu e adevarat ce se zice about the fligh attendants. tipii da is gay da ele nu, nu-s bune. bine atata timp cat imi dau cafea pe gratis ma declar multumita.) si am baut vin. si am mancat. si am baut. si am mancat. gata puff place your seats into their upright position. we have now landed on JFK International Airport. New York. New fuckin' York. New York fuckin' City in the fuckin US of fuckin' A. Like a man of few words once said: "Fuck America! Fuck di auchan! Fuck the moon! Fuck!" JFK fuckin' line. stai la coada tu si toti ceilalti non-us citizes. the aliens.
lost luggage. welcome to america I give you 1$ for a cigarette. da sure (kaniejna). air train. air train to our beach. our beach? nu, howard beach. train A to port authority in Manhattan. really? woody allen's manhattan. new jersey transit. does anybody know how to get to fuckin long branch???? 3 flacai romani care merg in atlantic city, habar n-au de long branch dar ne ureaza mult noroc. so long branch, new jersey? fuck knows, fuck cares.fuck. port authority. manhattan. new york. usa. world. 2 girls.
"west?north?"
"gutswise? i'd say west. let's go for west!"
"what do you mean? you can't just pick or you'll get lost somwhere in the wrong place! call someone.now! I'm not selling you no ticket!" (tanti negresa ne-o speriat un pic. aici se termina ce am scris atunci.si astea is doar primele ore din ziua aia. si da am sunat pe cineva da nici aia nu stiau exact daca e west sau north long branch. we picked)

suck it monkeys...

2009-08-02T13:32:00.000-07:00

we're going to california!

the shades go down

2009-07-25T17:54:00.000-07:00

people are strange.people are very fuckin strange. ma simt una dintre doua cele mai normale persoane din jurul meu (cealalta e cri). really really

soundtrack

2009-07-18T09:12:00.000-07:00

sufrageria

uscatoria de haine

breakfast at

parcul central

survivor

2009-07-09T12:46:00.000-07:00

pentru ca ieri cred ca i-am vazut pe plaja pe aia de la survivor care faceau gratar si beau si aveau tricouri survivor pe ei. oricum nu i-am recunoscut pe nici care and we also didn't really bother to ask. si nu era nici jeff acolo. jeff ii cool. l-am fi recunoscut.
viata in whitetrashfuckin'ville goes on and on. si nu-mi vine sa cred cat de repede se schimba planurile de pe o zi pe alta. macar ne-am facut casa unde stam cat de cat locuibila. adica ne-am facut rost de saltea. de pe strada de undeva dar macar avem pe ce sa dormim. si oamenii cu care stam is tari. polonezele is foarte funny si vorbesc mult si tare si nu is nicicare de fapt poloneze, una ii rusoaica si ailalta ii din iran. da fete faine. si nebune. si mai is doi unguri din covasna care vorbesc incet si de fapt nu prea vorbesc cu noi. oricum i can't really follow what they say. takes too long. si mai e o tipa din ucraina care arata exact ca o ileana cosanzeana si prietenul ei vadim care is a man of few words : good morning! uat da fac?! fac di oucean!fac da mun!si mai suntem noi. care ne descurcam. ne cautam momentan a second job avand in vedere ca pe primu nu-l putem lucra. deci mainly ne cam facem vacanta pe malul atlanticului. si eu mi-am primit ieri bagajul care chiar wasn't lost for eternity. i might be da bagajul meu nu. cred ca what i'm trying to say e ca e ok. ca nu e half as bad cum credeam in prima zi. oricum that day e deja mult prea departe de mine. oricum e mult mai mult de atat dar my time is running low si imediat ma dau afara de-aici.
he floated back down
cause he wanted to share
his keys to the locks on the chains
he saw everywhere
bur first he was stripped and then he was stabbed
by faithless men well fuckers
he still stands

anyway daca ne-ati vedea acuma...

stuck.

2009-07-03T09:21:00.000-07:00

traim. inca. e ok.

.

2009-07-01T05:40:00.000-07:00

to begin with: EVERYTHING!

-long as i can see the light-

2009-06-30T07:26:00.000-07:00

season 2 finale. buna vara, buna iulia. ladies and gentlemen the evening is over, I hope you all enjoyed yourselves have a fuckin' great summer and see you all in october!

.