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3/8/11

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S-a terminat circul ieftin de varietati, a parasit capitala dupa o ultima reprezentatie, doar cu doi spectatori, in cele mai bune randuri insa. S-a terminat cu minciuna, vorbele ireale, visele stupide, conceptiile diferite, apusul vesnic.
Am platit un pret prea mare pentru fericire si acum am cautat remediul pentru uitare. Teama si tristetea mi-au dat tarcoale, au vrut sa ma rapuna, sa-mi plang nefericirea la bratul lor. Nu conteaza ca te simti rau in interior, zambeste, fii multumit si priveste rasaritul. El intotdeauna vine, cu o noua speranta, cu noi vise de urmat si oameni de pus in coltul uitarii.
Exteriorul nu poate trada interiorul, poate doar la oameni slabi, asa ca privesc mai sus, imi admir greselile, invat din ele, nu dau satisfactie celor care vor sa ma vada sfarsita, doresc mai mult de la viata si raman rationala si nu sensibila la stimulii exteriori.

Traiesc, nu dau inapoi nici macar o secunda, nu mai traiesc in trecut si privesc inainte, fara sa-mi reprosez ceva si fara sa ma gandesc daca las ceva in urma...pentru ca, da, nu las nimic important...decat pe cineva fara valoare morala.
Vorbeam candva de operatia pe suflet...hmm, poate fi o solutie pentru unii, dar nu si pentru mine. Nu am ce sa elimin, sa cicatrizez. Nu am nimic, nu mai am nimic sau poate nici nu am avut vreodata, sufletul a ramas undeva departe, fara dorinta, doar avand promisiunea mea...ca intr-o zi, va trai numai in fericire, armonie, iubire...asa ca uit si zambesc uneori amar, alteori cu simpatie cu gandul la ce a fost sau nu. Atat.

"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.”