Scrierile mele despre viaţă: Emotions

9/11/10

Emotions

Sunt atat de putine momentele in care sunt mandra ca m-am nascut aici, dar chiar daca nu sunt numeroase, exista. Sunt mandra ca m-am nascut in tara unde au existat si vor exista pentru eternitate, unii dintre cei mai frumosi si talentati oameni ai planetei: Dem Radulescu, Gheorghe Dinica, Stefan Iordache (teatru), Nichita Stanescu, I.L.Caragiale, Octavian Paler (literatura), Gigi Caciuleanu, Tiberiu Almosnino, Ileana Iliescu (coregrafie), Florian Pittis, Adrian Igrișan (muzica). Mai sunt cateva nume foarte dragi sufletului meu si azi am mai aflat de unul.

O cheama Madalina Lefter si a fost descoperita publicului larg de catre Mihai Bendeac. La o varsta in care fetele se joaca inca cu papusile, ea canta. Dar, nu canta ca un amator, ca un copil, canta intr-un fel in care te obliga sa o tii minte. Sufletul ei micut poate transmite emotii fenomenale oricarui om si sunt sigura ca vom mai auzi de ea..dar nu in Romania, ci in afara, acolo unde artistii adevarati sunt apreciati la justa lor valoare.
Cred ca intreaga lista de artisti de mai sus putea fi cunoscuta in intreaga lume, daca acestia nu s-ar fi nascut in Romania. Dar, asta este situatia. Important este ca EI s-au nascut, ne-au facut si ne vor face viata mai frumoasa.

"If it doesn't come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don't do it. Unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don't do it. If you have to sit for hours staring at your computer screen or hunched over your typewriter searching for words, don't do it. If you're doing it for money or fame, don't do it. If you're doing it because you want women in your bed, don't do it. If you have to sit there and rewrite it again and again, don't do it. If it's hard work just thinking about doing it, don't do it. If you're trying to write like somebody else, forget about it. If you have to wait for it to roar out of you, then wait patiently. If it never does roar out of you, do something else. If you first have to read it to your wife or your girlfriend or your boyfriend or your parents or to anybody at all, you're not ready. Don't be like so many writers, don't be like so many thousands of people who call themselves writers, don't be dull and boring and pretentious, don't be consumed with self-love. The libraries of the world have yawned themselves to sleep over your kind. Don't add to that. Don't do it. Unless it comes out of your soul like a rocket, unless being still would drive you to madness or suicide or murder, don't do it. Unless the sun inside you is burning your gut, don't do it. When it is truly time, and if you have been chosen, it will do it by itself and it will keep on doing it until you die or it dies in you. There is no other way. And there never was." - Charles Bukowski

“Sit down. Inhale. Exhale. The gun will wait. The lake will wait. The tall gall in the small seductive vial will wait will wait: will wait a week: will wait through April. You do not have to die this certain day. Death will abide, will pamper your postponement. I assure you death will wait. Death has a lot of time. Death can attend to you tomorrow. Or next week. Death is just down the street; is most obliging neighbor; can meet you any moment. You need not die today. Stay here–through pout or pain or peskyness. Stay here. See what the news is going to be tomorrow. Graves grow no green that you can use. Remember, green’s your color. You are Spring.”