gheata.

nu ai aer. e mult prea cald. simti cum incet, incet te topesti sub soarele care apune. te intinzi peste masa si tragi scrumiera in fata ta. scoti o tigara din pachet, o inghesui intre buze si ramai prost cu bricheta in mana pret de cateva secunde. te gandesti…dar indeajuns de repede iti trece si iti aprinzi in final tigara. e mai putin aer. te sufoci, dar nu acorzi importanta. stii ca va ploua in curand. citesti asta pe cer.

paharul e din nou gol. cauti pe masa galeata cu gheata, furi 4 cuburi, si rand pe rand le dai drumul in pahar. ai ajuns la ultimul cub de gheata, insa eziti sa ii dai drumul, asa ca il pastrezi in mana. simti cum se topeste intre degetele tale care nu se opresc sa il intoarca de pe o parte pe cealalta, cautand probabil o imperfectiune. aproape instinctiv duci cubul de gheata si modelezi o litera pe ceafa. te trec fiorii, te blochezi, te gandesti intens, si reiei ruta de racoare, tatuand parca acea litera pe tine. incet, simti cum se porneste primul strop de apa si coboara pe coloana, miscat serpuit si ghidat de micile inflexiuni ale corpului datorate senzatiei. cubul de gheata s-a topit. ultimele urme de picaturi de apa ramase pe degete, le treci peste buze si revii la pahar. iti torni otrava la care ii adaugi masca si il lasi sa alunece pe gat, simtind durerea in forma de litera pe ceafa…

tragi adanc din tigara de doua ori si apoi o stingi cu putere in scrumiera. iti termini bautura, iei cuburile de gheata ramase in pahar, te ridici de la masa si pleci…

lingering

it’s quiet. everything is still. the wind slowly turns over a leaf again and again…it’s dawn. the sun makes his way through the cloudy sky not paying attention to anything else. that summer rain from last night left the streets wet. water drops make their way from the lamp posts to the ground breaking the silence.

the sound of his footsteps circles around the room. there is too much smoke in the air. the ashtray it full. another minute passes while his eyes linger across the bedroom to check the time. regrets. it’s one of those moments when he realises that a lot of the things that he has done could have gone a different way. dissapointment…

the laptop is heating up sitting on the bed. wordless, voiceless songs are playing into the headphones that are long forgotten. he is in a desperate search of something new. a new experience, a new feeling, anything. lost. maybe the wait for this new beggining is eating him alive. not knowing what will happen, what will become of him. it’s either one way or the other, but eventually he will find out. expecting the worst, but still hoping for the best, he tries to calm himself down, telling his conscience that he will succeed. but…will he?

it’s the end of a stage of his life, but with no certainty of the future in front of him. soon to be past activities end in matter of weeks. supposed to be summer fun. that „live each day as if it were your last” adventure captures a totally different meaning now. gone. dust. memories, thoughts, every little detail going inside his head is portrayed as the smoke filling the room. untouchable.

he closes the lamp sitting in the corner of the room, he sets the alarm for the new morning, for the new tomorrow, switches his phone to silent mode, pluging it to the charger. his head touches the pillow, still clowded with thought. sleep, rest, a new day. maybe tomorrow will bring that something he is looking for. that actual hope that he pretends he presently owns. he shuts his laptop, and turns around in bed. it’s quiet. everything is still.

obsessions

cause even a drop matters. of sweat, of blood, of an ideea created in your head. it all matters. every single word you say, every single gesture is nothing but another reason, another item on my list. even though you think it might fade in the ocean, that stands for this rather strange relationship, believe me is won’t! never forget. everything matters! 

being shallow defines our way into our own comfort zone. not caring is the perfect way to stand torn apart from a reality that might be hurtful or simply unpleasant. so we detach. we choose not to care, we choose  to walk away. the flow of our blood, the changes in our hearts, determine, one way or another, our behaviour.

there is always a consequence. the emotion that is build due to rather unimportant conversations materializes into feelings, into something valid, into something you begin to crave for. obsessions. it’s all about the drive in all of our personalities. it’s about the chase, the thrill of it, that personal thing, the little game you play to make everything more interesting. it’s almost like a getaway, even for a short period of time, experiencing different chains of thought.

decisions we make everyday, every moment, concerning anyone, they all have repercussions. a word can mean freedom or disaster. it can also mean nothing, but for those who talk with meaning and don’t do it just for the sake of the argument it is so much more than that. it can occur as being a foundation to a long lasting friendship, a love story, an end.

we all struggle with our obsessions. we are binded by our choice in words. eventually it may defy your way of being seen by the people surrounding you. so you have two choises: fight, struggle and find a way or flight!

red *click*

*click* a lighter turns on. you can hear the cigar paper sizzle,heating fast, burning the tabacco. with a humming sound, two lips gently touch the filter, taking the cigar in between those freshly tongue moistened lips and sucking the tabacco smoke, inhaling the poisonous vice. she puts the lighter on the table and reaches for the half full glass of red wine, an excellent old wine.

she just had sex. he is getting dressed, he is leaving. before he finally does, he approaches her, grabes the back of her neck and kisses her passionately. her eyes shut instantly. she felt a rush through her entire body. the red thong she wore got a bit wet, and when she opened her eyes, he was already closing the door behind him… satisfied, she returns to her cigar and wine.

there is no rush concerning these moments of delight she is enjoying. takes her phone from her leather pants thrown on the floor, next to her high heels. while texting she finished both her whine and second cigarette. she is going to go out with her best friend. she removed her panties and smiled noticing the stain. hopped in the shower and started sort of dancing with the steam while playing with her fingers through her hair.almost like she was sad to wash off his smell, she covered her body in body oils returning  her specific smell which got him to crave for her. she turned the water off, took a big red towel and covered herself up.

*click* the lighter turns on again and another cigar will meet it’s end. she throws away the towel and looks at herself in the mirror. her mind can only conceive the fact that she is loved for her own self…

am doar 18 ani

in final major! nu ca s-ar schimba mare lucru, dar e bine de stiut ca sunt responsabil in fata legii asupra faptelor mele. cu toate ca nu e relevant:))

ce sa zic?no pai sa traiesc bine si fericit si sa am parte de „de toate” ca se poarta.