Eu… chiar nu mai am nimic de spus. Nici despre tine, nici despre mine, nici despre voi, nici despre ei sau noi sau… da. O sa ma retrag acum, in orasul aglomerat care a devenit al meu, unde lumea crede ca asa am fost dintotdeauna si nimeni nu stie ca nici macar acum nu sunt asa. I’m doing my best, you know. Lumea se plange prea mult in jurul meu ca sa ma mai plang si eu si nu-mi mai permit sa ma simt rau. Iar tie nu-ti mai permit sa apari peste tot, pentru ca doare deja prea tare ca sa mai treaca vreodata de tot. Am ramas o rana deschisa si daca totusi o sa ma vindec, stii tu; o sa fiu o cicatrice urata. Lasa-ma sa te iubesc asa, fara sa stiu, pana o sa uit de tot cum e sa te iubesc. Si daca lumea nu m-ar mai intreba de tine ar fi perfect. Cum naiba le explic ca habar n-am ce mai faci si ca nici nu ma mai intereseaza? Ca esti un vis urat, dar ca inca vreau sa ramai o amintire frumoasa? Si sper sa nu treci niciodata prin asta, pentru ca… pentru ca tu nu meriti.
*Post inexistent*
Probabil o sa-mi para rau, dar… nu era momentul. Pur si simplu, nu era momentul. O sa vina, insa, cand ne asteptam mai putin, cand o sa fim amandoi pregatiti, cand… La dracu’. 18th floor balcony ramane a mea. I DO hate your rotten guts right now, but I guess you can’t really escape your soulmate, can you? Oricat de idiot ar fi. Asa, ca tine. N-am idee. Nici chef de tine. I’m gonna live my life. Miercuri am petrecere. Keep your fingers crossed.
Twist the knife ’til I can’t stop bleeding.
Mi-ar placea sa te am in fata, sa iti zambesc, asa cum mai pot si sa te intreb daca iti amintesti de ea. Copilul ala care nu-si gasea locul si care muta muntii din loc pentru tine, care pierdea noptile pregatind cadouri pe care tu nici nu le-ai vazut… care-ti facea portrete imperfecte si gasea cate ceva din tine in orice ii iesea in cale.
Nu-ti amintesti si te inteleg, sa stii, pentru ca n-ai cum sa-ti amintesti, dar eu… eu imi amintesc de ea si mie imi lipseste. Canta la chitara, avea si o voce frumoasa. Desena… desena oameni speciali. Si iubea, iubea mult, iubea tot timpul. Te iubea tot timpul si avea grija de tine, sau macar incerca. Nu facea rau nimanui, niciodata.
Iar moartea aia a fost nedreapta, sa stii, nu merita sa moara asa. S-a zvarcolit sub ochii mei nopti intregi si eu n-am putut sa fac nimic, desi m-a implorat sa o ajut. A trebuit sa stau acolo si sa privesc cum se stinge si ceea ce e cel mai nedrept e ca te-a asteptat, te-a asteptat pana in ultima clipa, te-a asteptat si in timp ce pleoapele ei coborau pentru ultima data, a crezut in tine chiar si atunci.
Si stiu ca tu intarzii, si ea stia ca tu intarzii, dar n-aveai de gand sa vii, de fapt, asa-i? Daca as fi stiut, i-as fi spus si ei, poate acum ar fi fost langa mine, dar intr-un mod bolnav, m-ai convins si pe mine si acum nu stiu nici macar daca ar trebui sa o razbun.
N-o mai pot aduce inapoi. Nici tu nu poti. De data asta ai intarziat prea mult si ai facut prea mult rau ca sa iti mai permita cineva sa faci in continuare.
Nu-mi ajunge o viata noua ca sa scap de tine, nu?
“Imi trebuie un semafor pentru ganduri.”
Trupa mea preferata de aproape 3 ani, Mayday Parade, are album noooou si, din nefericire, o piesa pe coloana sonora de la New Moon. Ceea ce inseamna ca, dupa ce ca au ramas fara Jason, sunt in mare mare pericol sa devina si extrem de comerciali; si toate pustoaicele isterice vor face cum au facut cu Paramore, da, da. Mari fani, intr-adevar.
Oricum, inainte ca asta sa se intample, una dintre piesele noi… asa, ca mine.
She fell to the bottom of her life
This wasn’t meant for two
She struggles to find herself in time
But she can barely move
Just try and get up
You gotta slowly brush off
I know that words aren’t enough
But you’re better than this
Save your heart
For someone that’s worth dying for
Don’t give it away
Torn apart
Never getting what you’ve been crying for
Its always the same
She turns the pages everyday
Just to change the mood
But every chapter reads the same
Its so hard to make it through
Just try and get up
You’ve gotta slowly brush off
I know that words arent enough
But you’re better than this
Save your heart
For someone that’s worth dying for
Don’t give it away
Torn apart
Never getting what you’ve been crying for
Its always the same
And you give
And they take
And its love that you want
But not love that you make
Save your heart
For someone that’s worth dying for
Don’t give it away
[X2]
Save your heart for someone who leaves you breathless
And I know that you’re scared
Seems like someone said you had it in you
All along you said you knew this was wrong
But still worth dying for
And you give
And they take
And its love that you want, but not love that you make
Save your heart
For someone thats worth dying for
Dont give it away
Dont give it away
This is goodbye.
So, this is it. Plec, deci. Departe de tine. Si te las aici, in camera mea, la calculatorul meu, cu fiintele astea nebune si amuzante pe care le iubesc cel mai mult. Poti sa dormi pe perna mea, poti sa ma cauti prin oras… poti sa vorbesti noaptea cu luna, poti sa te plimbi pe Independentei, poti… poti sa iti cauti lumina. Eu nu o sa mai fiu aici.
Dar te iubesc, pustiule, inca te iubesc. Si vreau sa-ti fie bine. Nu spun de multe ori asta… de fapt, e prima data cand o spun. Singura data. Ai, deci, grija de tine. Si de luminile si sunetele mele, de amintirile noastre, de… ai grija de mine. Sau ceea ce a ramas din mine.
Take care now.
Eu am terminat Grey’s si nu mai am nimic. Am incercat sa imbrac papusi, dar n-a tinut. Mi-e frica de Bucuresti, mi-e frica de facultate, de lume noua si de lipsa de miros de copilarie. Camera mea, cina cu ai mei, nestea/bere/seminte cu cine stie cine pe balcon. Strazi cunoscute, lume cunoscuta, iubita sau nu.
N-am voie. Asa ca… take care now. Take care now.
Here’s to the future.
Grey’s Anatomy Quotes. Pentru ca asta fac in ultima vreme. Adun citate. Destepte, amuzante, triste, vechi, noi, banale, iesite din comun. Le adun, fie ca sunt photoshopuite pe avatare sau organizate in Grey’s Anatomy Insider, le adun fie ca mi se potrivesc, fie ca nu, le adun chiar daca stiu ca e posibil sa nu le mai citesc si a doua oara. Ma face sa ma simt bine. Colectionez… citate. Da. So… here we go.
*Meredith: Don’t wonder why people go crazy. Wonder why they don’t. In face of what we can lose in a day, in an instant, wonder what the hell it is that make us hold it together.
*Dr. Wyatt: What happened last year when you fell in the water?
Meredith: I almost drowned. Do you think I did that for kicks?
Dr. Wyatt: You put your hand in a body cavity that contained unexploded ammunition.
Meredith: I was trying to save a patient!
Dr. Wyatt: Why is it that every other person in that room had the sense to hit the deck? You know people run away from this line between life and death. You seem to stand on it and wait for a strong wind to sway you one way or the other. You’re careless with your life. You’re not slitting your wrists but you’re careless. Probably because your mother told you you were a waste of space on this planet. The problem is you believed her. And if you don’t want out one of these days you’re going to die because of it.
Meredith: Hand me my chart. NOW! And don’t ever talk about my mother again.
*Meredith: Where have you been?! I’ve been waiting and waiting for you! And I did this stupid, embarrassing, humiliating, corny thing. And I was just gonna tell you that, this over here is our kitchen and this is our living room, and over there that’s the room our kids could play. I had this whole thing about I was gonna build us a house, but I don’t build houses because I’m a surgeon. And now I’m here feeling like a lame ass loser. I got all whole and healed and you don’t show up. And now it’s all ruined because you took so long to come home! And I couldn’t even find that bottle of champagne …
*Derek: It’s the kitchen? Living room – a little small. The view’s much better from here. And that’s where the kids are going to play? Where’s our bedroom?
Meredith: I’m still mad at you and I don’t know if I trust you, I wanna trust you, but I don’t know if I do. So I’m just gonna try, I’m gonna try and trust you. Because I believe that, we can be extraordinary together. rather than ordinary apart and I wanna be …
*Miranda: I have a dream, Yang… That one day a trauma, will come through these doors…. I have a dream.
Cristina: I share that dream.
*Meredith: [narrating] Once upon a time, happier ever after. The stories we tell are the stuff of dreams. Fairy tales don’t come true. Reality is much stormier. Much murkier. Much scarier.
*Lexie: [to patient] It happens. People make mistakes. They … sleep with the wrong person and … they hide it but, if you ask me, it’s the part that comes after that matters. The part where you make it right. And I think you’re off to a good start.
*Meredith: [narrating] Reality. It’s so much more interesting than living happily ever after.
*Meredith: [narrating] We all remember the bed time stories of our childhood. The shoe fit Cinderella, the frog was turned into a prince, sleeping beauty was awakened with a kiss. Once upon a time and then they lived happily ever after. Fairy tales. The stuff of dreams. the problem is, fairy tales don’t come true. It’s the other stories. The ones that start in dark and stormy nights and end in the unspeakable. The nightmares always seem to become the reality.
*Meredith: [narrating] Bones break. Organs burst. Flesh tears. We can sew the flesh, repair the damage, ease the pain. But when life breaks down… when we break down… there’s no science. No hard and fast rules. We just have to feel our way through. And to a surgeon there’s nothing worse, and there’s nothing better.
*Miranda: [after Mer drops kidney] Five-second rule! Five-second rule!
*Izzie: You can’t blame yourself. Some people are just broken. I guess you just try not to care too much and you can’t be disappointed.
*Meredith: [narrating] The thing about choosing teams in real life, it’s nothing like it used to be in gym class. Being first picked can be terrifying. And being chosen last isn’t the worst thing in the world. So we watch from the sidelines clinging to our isolation. Because we know as soon as we let go of the bench … someone comes along and changes the game completely.
*Lexie: [to George] Did you even ask for me? I helped decorate your stupid locker and you don’t even see it! You don’t see anything! I am such an idiot. And you are a jerk. You didn’t even ASK for me? Screw you, Dr. O’Malley.
*Patient: She’ll be okay. This has been coming for a long time… she’ll be okay. She’ll… she’ll move on.
Izzie: If you die, she will not get over it. She will not move on. She’ll think she can, she’ll even think she has, and then, out of the blue you’ll be right there with her, so close she’ll think she can touch you and then all this will just… be happening for her, all over again. And she will not be able to move on.
*Meredith (voiceover): We don’t wish for the easy stuff. We wish for big things. Things that are ambitious, out of reach. We wish because we need help and we’re scared and we know we may be asking too much. We still wish, though, because sometimes they come true.
*Meredith (voiceover): We all get at least one good wish a year. Over the candles on our birthday. Some of us throw in more. On eyelashes, fountains, lucky stars, and every now and then, one of those wishes comes true. So what then? Is it is as good as we’d hoped? Do we bask in the warm glow of our happiness? Or, do we just notice we’ve got a long list of other wishes waiting to be wished?
*Owen: We should operate and then you can kill yourself.
Mark: Oh God.
*Denny (narrating): I believe in heaven. I also believe in hell. I’ve never seen either but I believe they exist. They have to exist. Because without a heaven, without a hell, we’re all just headed for limbo.
*Denny: I loved you so much… I loved you so much, that when I got to comeback for you I thought… your my heaven, but maybe… I’m your hell.
*Meredith (narrating): It seems we have no control what so ever over our own hearts. Condition can change without warning. Romance can make the heart pound just like panic can. And panic can make it stop cold in your chest. It’s no wonder doctors spend so much time to keep the heart stable, to keep it slow, steady, regular to stop the heart from pounding out of your chest from the dread of something terrible or the anticipation or something else entirely. // Any first year med student knows that an increase heart rate is a sign of trouble. A racing heart can indicate anything from a panic disorder to something much, much more serious. A heart that flutters, or one that skips a beat, could be a sign of secret affliction or it could indicate romance which is the biggest trouble of all.
*Meredith: [narrating] Every surgeon has a shadow. And the only way to get rid of a shadow,is to turn off the light. To stop running from the darkness, and face what you fear. Head on.
*Lexie: Yes, the odds are against us. I’m a one woman wrecking ball, all I do is break you. Your hand, your penis, your relationships, your life. I’d say our survival rate is about 3 percent. And that’s, that’s, that’s bad. But, it’s not nothing. And I don’t think we should give up on this. At least not yet because…
Mark: (puts finger to Lexie’s lips)
Lexie: Okay.
Mark: You think you broke me little Grey? You’re the one that put me back together.
*Lexie: I learned a lot today. Diagnosing a patient from beginning to end. So, thank you for teaching us.
Izzie: What would you say? To patient X. How would you… How would you break the news?
Lexie: Um, I would say that I was very sorry, and that there were support groups. Th… I … I don’t know. What do you say to somebody whose, whose gonna…
Izzie: You say, they have a choice. They can runaway and hide from it, or they can face it. You say they need to be around the people who love them, because it’s gonna be the toughest fight of their life, and no one should have to do it alone. And then you give them the odds. And even though a 5 percent survival rate is bad, it’s really bad. You say…. you say….
Lexie: Screw the odds! People die of the hiccups. My mother died of the hiccups. Survival rate for that is what… 100 percent? The odds are that she should be alive right now. The odds are… The odds are crap! So people should face it and they should fight. Maybe not those words.
Izzie: No. Exactly those words. Thank you doctor Grey.
*Cristina: I dreamt once that I was falling out a window, hanging onto the drapes. I woke up, pulling Meredith’s hair out. HAH!
*Miranda: What in gods name is going on?
Meredith: It’s a personal issue, and we are just trying to give them their privacy.
Miranda: Do you think for a second I wanted to get involved with your little intern dramas?
George: We were not this bad.
Miranda: Oh, getting married in Vegas. Shacking up with attendings, cutting LVAD wires. You don’t have to like it, but you have to manage it.
Meredith: Oh, we’ve got it under control.
Intern: (runs down stairs crying) Wait, I love you Megan!
*Miranda: O’Malley, Grey, I need you on pre ops and post ops.
Meredith: But, there’s the biggest surgery in the world happening here today.
Miranda: Yes, and half our attendings are involved. Which is why we need strong residents on pre ops and post ops. Yang, you’re with me today. Your moving to the big leagues.
Meredith: What?
George: She gets a solo?
Cristina: Today?
Miranda: Nice old lady with a hernia. You’re gonna fix it.
Meredith: Congratulations. I know I should seem more enthusiastic, but I’m not that big a person.
Cristina: Don’t worry about it.
George: Is it wrong to have hatred in your heart?
*Callie: I wished Izzie Stevens would die. I wished her dead every day, of every week, for I don’t even know how long. I woke up every morning, wishing Izzie Stevens would die, and now… What kind of person wishes someone would die? What kind of doctor wishes, knowing how things happen. What kind of doctor wishes…
Arizona: Are you in here, right now, praying for Izzie to die?
Callie: No. I’m praying for her to live.
*Alex (narrating): Doesn’t matter how tough we are, trauma always leaves a scar. It follows us home, it changes our lives, trauma messes everybody up, but maybe that’s the point. All the pain and the fear and the crap. Maybe going through all of that is what keeps us moving forward. It’s what pushes us. Maybe we have to get a little messed up, before we can step up.
*Meredith: [narrating] To do our jobs we have to believe defeat is not an option. That no matter how sick our patients get, there’s hope for them. But, even when our hopes give way to reality and we finally have to surrender to the truth, it just means we’ve lost today battle. Not tomorrows war. Here’s the thing about surrender, once you do it, actually give in, you forget why you were eve fighting in the first place.
*Mr Smitson: I called 8 organisations and they have a wait list for emergency funds. I don’t know what to do. I just, I don’t know.
Bailey: Mr Smitson, it’s time to stop now.
Mr Smitson: Maybe if we just go to the airport they’ll let us on a flight. I mean, people do things like that right? For a sick child they’ll…
Bailey: Mr Smitson…
Mr Smitson: No! Please don’t make me stop. Ok? Please don’t make me stop! Please don’t make me stop!
Bailey: I don’t wanna stop either. But, Jessica is terminal Matt. In a few minutes her heart is going to stop. Now, I can… I can pump her chest, I can push all sorts of medicines, I can put her on a ventilator ’cause she’ll no longer be able to breathe on her own. But, even with all of that, she’s going to die. And the last person who will have had her hands her, who will have been able to touch who was gonna be me, or a nurse. Or it could be you. So, you don’t wanna miss this. This next part, she needs her Daddy for this part.
Jessica: Daddy, are we going to Mexico?
Mr Smitson: Yes, we’re going to Mexico. Where the sky is blue, blue. And the sand is white. The waters so clear that you can see all the way to the bottom. We’re going. Just you and me. No more doctors, no more medicine, no more hospitals. Just you and me. (Jessica flatlines) We’re gonna go. You just relax, we’ll be there soon. (Bailey turns off the monitor) We’ll play on the beach all day, and we’ll make sand castles. We’re going. We’ll be there soon, you’ll see. We’re gonna have so much fun. Just you and me. Just you and me.
*Meredith: [narrating] Defeat isn’t an option. Not for surgeons. We don’t back away from the table till the last breaths long gone. Terminal’s a challenge. Life threatening’s what gets us out of bed in the morning. We’re not easily intimidated. We don’t flinch, we don’t back down, and we certainly don’t surrender. Not at work anyway.
*Meredith: [narrating] Remember when we were little, and we would accidentally bite a kid on the playground? Our teachers would go “Say you’re sorry.” And we would say it, but we wouldn’t mean it. Because the stupid kid we bit, totally deserved it. But, as we get older, making amends isn’t so simple. After the playground days are over, you can’t just say it. You have to mean it. Of course, when you become a doctor, sorry is not a happy word. It either means you’re dieing and I can’t help. Or, it means this is really gonna hurt.
*Izzie: You never know the biggest day of your life is the biggest day. Not until it’s happening. You don’t recognize the biggest day of your life, not until you’re right in the middle of it. The day you commit to something or someone. The day you get your heart broken. The day you meet your soul mate. The day you realize there’s not enough time, because you wanna live forever. Those are the biggest days. The perfect days. You know?
Denny: I bet you … you made a beautiful bride.
Izzie: It was a beautiful day.
*Cristina: God, it doesn’t matter how good you are. Or how hard you work. You can do all the research, you can master all the latest techniques, I mean you can be the best. You can be the best surgeon in the world, but your patients are still gonna die. ‘Cause the next day, or the next month, or the next year, you know they’re just gonna get hit by a car. Or find a mole on their back. There’s nothing you can do about it. (turns to Owen) I don’t want you to die.
*Meredith (opening voiceover): When something begins, you generally have no idea how it’s going to end. The house you’re going to sell becomes your home, the roommates you were forced to take in become your family and the one night stand you were determined to forget becomes the love of your life.
*Meredith (closing voiceover): We spend our whole lives worrying about the future, planning for the future, trying to predict the future, as if figuring it out will cushion the blow. But the future is always changing. The future is the home of our deepest fears and wildest hopes. But one thing is certain when it finally reveals itself. The future is never the way we imagined it.
*Meredith: (running through the hallway) It’s George! It’s George! It’s George! John Doe is GEORGE!
*Meredith (closing voiceover): Did you say it? ‘I love you. I don’t ever want to live without you. You changed my life.’ Did you say it? Make a plan. Set a goal. Work toward it, but every now and then, look around; Drink it in ’cause this is it. It might all be gone tomorrow.”
Mda. Is multe, stiu. Pentru ca asta fac toata ziua. Ma rog, pana va trebui sa-i las pe ai mei, sa-mi las camera calda si draguta si peisajul german de care am parte de la fereastra si sa dispar in gramada aia imensa de praf in care oamenii n-au timp de tine si in care tu n-ai chef de ei. Life sucks. Then you die. Nu pare atat de greu, nu? Dar e.
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Pe scurt, e ca dracu’. TOT e ca dracu’. Si am permanent tendinta de a ma intreba daca se putea si mai rau si in scurt timp mi se demonstreaza ca da, bineinteles ca se poate si mai rau. In fiecare zi e mai rau. Din ce in ce mai rau. Si nu vreau la facultate si nu vreau la Bucuresti si nu vreau sa plec de acasa, dar nici acasa nu vreau sa raman. Nu vreau sa fiu nicaieri. Nu vreau sa fiu DELOC. Am obosit, bine? Si tu ai face bine sa iesi dracului din capul meu si sa-ti vezi de viata ta perfecta si fericita, cu masina ta de trei miliarde si cu iubirea ta demna de catwalk, pentru ca mi-e atat de rau incat esti ULTIMUL NENOROCIT DE LUCRU de care am nevoie. Bine? Asa. Multumesc.
Si nu, nu imi vreau viata inapoi. Nu o mai vreau deloc. N-are decat sa o ia cine se poate descurca cu asa ceva, I’ve had enough. Ce-am avut de dat, am dat. Nu mai am nimic, imi pare rau pentru voi. Nu mai pot nici sa desenez, nici sa cant la chitara, nu mai am nici voce, nici neuroni, nimic. Nu mai am chef de voi si cu siguranta nu mai am chef de mine.
Si nu, nu mai spun ca mi-e bine iar si iar si iar, in speranta ca o sa ajung sa cred asta. Pentru ca NU e bine. Si lucrurile nu se vor schimba, pur si simplu. N-am chef, bine? Pentru prima data, NU AM CHEF. De nimic. Si poate ca, daca era doar problema AIA, treceam peste. Dar niciodata nu e doar UNA singura, nu? Nu, evident ca nu. Vin asa, ca o avalansa si nu prea ai unde sa fugi, pentru ca, pana la urma, vin dupa tine. Asa ca daca dintr-o data sunt rea si nenorocita si nu mai raspund si nu va mai vreau si nu mai am chef sa ascult si sa inteleg, aici aveti si explicatia. Poate se termina azi, poate se termina maine. Poate o sa ajung totusi o epava si o sa merg mai departe, cu valul.
Poate o sa-ti recapeti lumina, poate o sa o primesti de la altcineva. Eu nu mai am energie nici cat sa gasesc capatul tunelului, asa ca stii ce-am sa fac? am sa ma asez aici, unde e rece si noapte si o sa inchid ochii si o sa ma odihnesc. Te descurci singur, tu si restul lumii. Si da, poate ca nu merit. Dar, la dracu’, nici voi nu meritati.
And now you do what they told ya.
Trag de mine de cand m-am intors de la mare sa scriu un post frumos despre asta, dar cum viata mea s-a intors cu capul in jos peste noapte, cum n-am mai putut nici sa cant, nici sa cant la chitara, nici sa scriu nimic… am preferat sa astept si sa gasesc suficienta putere in mine sa ma ridic si sa scriu ceva pe masura vacantei perfecte care mi-a marcat vara. Si viata, intr-un fel sau altul, pentru ca a fost inceputul sfarsitului.
Acum, la inceput de septembrie: Ce s-a intamplat vara trecuta? Pai, fara o anumita ordine, asta:
* NeFeTe din White Horse. Simpatic baiat care a hotarat sa-si incerce sansele. De cinci ori. In mai multe seri. Si-l avem chiar si intr-o poza in care nu l-am invitat sa apara, dar asta n-a stat in calea fericirii lui. Deci, poza de grup: NeFeTe si amicul in dreapta, sticla mea acoperind fata Sorinei [SCUZE 
] in stanga. La a treia incercare ne-a chiar reusit. 
* Pe lista mea cu intamplari care trebuie mentionate, mazgalita pe jumatate de coala de la Golden Pearl, de-alea de ni le puneau sub farfurie cand le puneam bucatarii la treaba, scrie asa: “chitara pe plaja/sex in apa”. Trebuie lamurit. Chitara era a noastra, sexul nu.
1. NU mergeti noaptea cu chitara pe plaja in Costinesti, pentru ca e plin de cocalari, pentru ca nisipul e mizerabil, pentru trebuie neaparat sa se ia de tine un dobitoc cu fata plina de shaorma care te intreaba fascinat daca ai de gand sa ii canti. Ma rog, unii te intreaba fascinati doar ce dracu e chestia mare cu coada pe care o cari in spate. Esti Satana? Da. Satana iubeste instrumentele muzicale.
Apoi, oricat de tentant ar fi un “Blind” pe plaja la ora 3, valurile nu se opresc ca sa te asculte, nici cluburile in care domnisoarele cu viitorul asigurat tremura cica lasciv din toate incheieturile nu o vor da pe Ina, Inna, Innnnnna [sau cum dracu' ii zice] cea boring si scary mai incet pentru ca, stim cu totii, she does like a woman. Si la mare… ei bine, that’s wha really matters.
2. Asta cu sexul in apa nu e bine formulata. Pentru ca apa era acolo, erau chiar si spectatori pe plaja, mai ceva ca la cinematograf, aparatele cu zoom pe ei, ea perpendiculara pe el, picioarele la 130 de grade, si apoi si apoi si apoi…
ZBANG!!!
Vine valu. De ce? Ca esti la mare, de-aia. In perioada cu valuri mari. Undeva langa mal. Ne pare rau ca nu v-a iesit, mai ales dupa ce am vazut cu totii cat efort ati depus. Si tu, stai linistit, omule. Sunt curioasa ca expresia sictirita de pe moaca ei se datora apei care o pocnise direct in fata, nu… tie. Luati-va o camera. Sau macar o piscina. Si cereti bani, ce dracu’? E criza. Paine si circ, nu? Da. Si lipsa mareelor, sau mareele foarte mici, care au favorizat… [De ce?!]
* Adunarea de oamenii de toate felurile, care faceau karaoke. Trei incercari, toate esuate. Poate ca totusi trebuia sa cantam la microfon. DACA am fi avut un microfon… care sa mearga. Si daca Simona nu mi l-ar fi indeasat in obraz sau daca ar fi slabit putin stransoarea sau… sau daca imbecila de langa nenea cu muzica s-ar fi prins la timp ca nu are voce… Eh. Oricum, I’ve got chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiills, they’re…
*Vai, amaratii beti din tren, care s-au holbat pe geam in compartiment pana s-au prins ca exista si o usa. Si atunci au hotarat sa o foloseasca.
‘Sunteti din Ploiesti?’
‘Nu.’
‘De ce?!’
‘o_O’
Si apoi… Vesnica problema:
‘Aia e o chitara?’
‘Da.’
‘Si nu cantam si noi oleaca?’
‘NU.’
‘De ce?!’
‘o_O Nu e acordata.’
‘Ah… trebe corzi.’
Deci… da.
*Bataia cu scaune din fata ringului, la care eu nuuuuuu am asistat. Slava Domnului. Si fetele care s-au dovedit a fi mai curajoase decat baietii… de orice fel.
*Pictorul Alexandra Mihai, cu amuleta ca a mea, satul de muzica din White Horse, cu oameni desenati mai frumosi decat isi permit sa fie. Tipul care ‘nu merge la concerte Trooper, pentru ca aia sunt oameni cu care el sta la cafea.’ Eh… si cu tine, acuma.
*Tatal si Fiul, fara Sfantul Duh, adica prietenii pe care Carmen si i-a facut fara probleme, in timp ce restul fetelor inca mai salivau dupa DJ, iar eu dadeam din cap pe… ceva. Poate chiar cinci minute, fara sa ma opresc, pe Maiden. Si da, mi-s mandra.
*Pustiul cu tricou cu ‘La tati ni-i greu’, dj cu palarie si plete, John Lennon drummer, nenea cu par lung… unul din multitudinea de neni cu par lung, piesa cu ‘ai fost slab la pat’, in timp ce-ti comandai ceva de mancare, drumul luuuuuuuuuuuuuuung care florile pentru tanti Maricica, pastele carbonarra sau cele cu usturoi [dar ne e rusine sa spunem cine a patit-o], blondul genial din White Horse [stuuuupid me.], jocul de w[h]ist la care aproape am batut imediat ce am invatat sa joc, cate o pana de curent, o data la cateva ore. Zilnic.
*Clatitele cu banane si ciocolata. Si tipa care le facea si care nu mai tacea din guraaaaaa ['si iti dai seama ca... da, nah, mai fac ceva, stai tu linistit, nu iau bani numai pe asta. Plus ca... '], tipa din masina care isi misca isteric fundul plin de celulita pe ‘undeva-n balcani’ si mai si lua bani pentru asta.
*Intalnirea nu foarte romantica dintre Carmen si podeaua dura a camerei noastre de la etajul 3, pentru care urcai multe, multe, MULTE scari. Multe si mari si grele si… da. Asa, si usile de la dus. Pe care tot ea le-a stricat cu foarte multa gratie. Frigiderul de pe hol in care Sorina si micul urias neajutorat au dat buna la 5 dimineata, desi stiam ca noi nu avem deloc mancare acolo. Nepe, aveau altii, dar fiind in pod, atat de aproape de divinitate, le-am lasa mancarea in pace si ne-am dus sa dormim.
*Shot-uri cu pahare de plastic, de care eu iar n-am avut parte. Aici scrie usa de la baie, dar habar n-am ce anume facea usa de la baie, de merita mentionata. Ehm… oricum. Usa de la baie! Asa… razboiul nesfarsit old school/trance. Oameni buni, lasati-o balta. Rili nau. Here, have a cocktail. Cosmopolitan, anyone?
*Vai, nu vreau sa critic pe nimeni. Dar asa inteligenta e lumea care merge in gossip, incat a facut DITAMAI coada la intrare dupa noi, 5 persoane care ramasesem acolo dupa intalnirea cu niste fosti colegi si ne gandeam unde [in White Horse] am fi putut sa mergem. Abia dupa vreo zece minute ne-am dat la o parte si ei au putut intra in minunatul cort alb cu masti pe el si in care ar fi putut fi demult, sau macar sta la coada adevarata.
*Paragraf special pentru prostii pamantului. ’nuff said.
*Afisul pentru minunatul film care nici acum nu are niciun nume in capul meu, dar sloganul era perfect: Murise… dar si-a revenit! Si nu stim sigur care avea legatura cu o anume…
*Lotiune albastra pentru copii. Un mic delfin am fost, speriat de valul ucigas. Patru fete bronzate si una cu pielea albastra. Asa, ca un soi de… oaie neagra. Doar ca nu oaie. Si clar nu neagra.
*Naomiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii de la karaoke, care nu era Naomi, dar canta de nu se mai putea, de la maraia cheri pana la sanaia tuein. Chiar si RHCP, but that was an epic fail.
*Fata cu chitara, care nu eram eu. Dar chitara era a mea. Pentru clasamentul ala pe care nuuuuu vreau sa mi-l amintesc.
*Rasaritul nevazut… pentru sperante ingropate in nisipul murdar, prea murdar.
*Hincu-Banel care se pricepea mai bine ca oricine la autogoluri, la fotbalul de masa. Siiiiii sah. Cu nebune.
*Nisip jegos, umbrela Iri, mingea din dus. Poze si ochelari de soare, culori incredibile, care sa-mi ajunga pentru toata viata, pentru ca sunt ultimele pe care le-am vazut.
*Pentru o vacanta aproape perfecta, cu acorduri gresite si nuante aprinse, gust dulce si miros de liniste. Si daca in locul meu ar fi fost altcineva, oricine, n-ar fi stiut ce inseamna aproape, iar vacanta ar fi fost perfecta. But some things never change, do they?
Direct de pe coloana sonora, Rage Against The Machine – Killing In The Name.
:))
*Note to self*
Oh, Doamne. Esti atat, dar ATAT de proasta. Esti urata si grasa si buna de nimic. Esti patetica, ridicola, penibilul pluteste in jurul tau ca un norisor multicolor. Nici neuronii tai nu mai vor sa coopereze, si… rili nau. Can you blame them? Nu-mi spune, tu chiar ai crezut ca o sa mearga? Chiaaaaaaaaaaar ai crezut ca esti vreo printesa si ca povestea ta e una de-aia cu final fericit? =)) Atunci meriti, meriti tooooooot ce ti se intampla. Si chiar mai mult de atat. Meriti sa fi calcata in picioare, meriti sa rada lumea de tine, sa isi bata joc, sa te scuipe in fata. Pentru ca esti proasta si pentru ca visezi la lucruri pe care stii clar ca nu le meriti. Eh, uite de-aia te simti asa acum si de-aia nu ai pe cine sa dai vina, pentru ca tu esti singura problema de aici. Si poti sa te rezolvi singura? Poti, cu un glont in cap. Sau… stai la etajul 8, ia asta ca pe un semn 
. Dar nu poti sa faci nici macar asta, asa-i? Nici macar pentru atata lucru nu esti suficient de puternica.
Si acum, dupa 19 ani, nu esti decat o ratata. Si el e fericit, pentru ca el e un om normal, nu ca tine. El munceste si lupta pentru ce vrea si… si merita. Tu nu meriti. Nu meriti nimic. Fa o favoare lumii si arunca-te naibii in fata primului tren.
