The soul doctor or doctor O.

So I’ve promised I’m gonna tell you more about my life, the difference between love and lust and being just there, stuck right in between them. 

Man I think this is the first time I wish I’d be writing in my mother tongue rather than English- kidding- what I have to say sounds way better on an international scale. 

Are you ready? Gonna go get rid of the spliff on my nightstand and I’ll be back to it. Ssshhhh and enjoy: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oTzzvlPFArU

Now I’m back… back to you mister O. I always am. Don’t you think this game is costing us a lot of time? Or does it please you, makes you feel all that hot and bothered knowing that some of us have fantasies when it comes to you and your professional touch? 

I met mister O. a long time ago… I’d say about 6 years now. We were young and stupid, now we’re just young and acting stupid. 

I’d love to say more about him but… I can’t. Doctor’s orders. 

That’s one of the things I can say- he’s “almost”a doctor, but he surely does know anatomy. 

And he has a cure for anything, even a broken soul. 

He guided mine through a lot and I thank him for that. He managed to show me there is something more to my life than a “stay home and cook and wait for me” doll. He made me feel like a woman after almost 3 years of terror so that’s why he’s here, or at least that one of the 3 reasons. 

I remember first time seeing him, he drove me to work. It happened so fast but it felt so natural. We spoke and we laughed and I was late at the office haha. And I remember him kissing me the first time. I felt like I was 15 again; I had butterflies- weird feeling with someone else rather than the one that was waiting for me back home. 

He’s a good guy Mister O. He’s kind of my confident so I guess he’s second speciality should be psychology. He can take care of your heart and you mind… and your vagina if I reached that point and I am talking about his qualities. 

So I guess I added two and three at the same time. 

I have a lot of things to tell you about Mister O., but it’s kind of late and I am kind of tired and probably he’s banging one of the nurses right now so I can’t  call him if I get all flustered. 

i’ll get back to you, doctor. Right now I feel I’m slipping away, falling asleep… but I can imagine you staring back at me from between my legs. 

Check my pulse, find the spot, yes, that’s it! 

London Bridge

Hey! I know it’s been a long time since we last spoke… I hope I’m not bothering, I never used to… or you never told me if I did. 

Im already speaking gibberish… excuse me again, but you have to understand how hard it is for me to do it.

I don’t know how to start, what to say… you used to be my best friend. 

I’ve missed you for a long time now. I’ve missed feeling loved by someone, being cherished and appreciated, but most of all I missed the only person who was able to fully understand me, who let me be me without being ashamed.

You know, this year I took my time healing after what happened.  And yet again seeing you, seeing us, going through photos and memories still hurts. Will it ever heal? Will it stop hurting? 

Anyway I’ve been travelling a lot, I went to London again, but without you this time. Landed on the same airport like the first time I saw you… I even took my time there, closing my eyes and remembering seeing you for the first time. Reality hit hard, cause I had to open them and stand alone there, realising you ain’t coming to pick me up anymore.

I know I might seem a bit of a masochist, I recreated the steps we took together that week and added a couple more; it felt empty without you there, even though the city was full of life. How can someone explain that to me? 

D. Was a really good friend, you should appreciate him, he surely deserves it, he took care of me as you told him to. 

Leaving London was hard. Felt like it always did leaving you, but I guess you can’t relate since I was always the one travelling. But let me put it in simple words: imagine having 100 needles pressing down your chest, slowly, rotating, making sure it gets deep down your every nerve till the spinal cord. Reality hit again. I was in a bus, all alone, crying, realising it was over, long time over.

I wish we’d be able to be friends again. 

I think I am ready now. 

Are you? 

Or are you afraid of going back to what it used to be? 

Don’t be, it won’t happen again. You used all the love I had. 

I hope you’re happy with someone else. I wish I’d be able to be happy as well… but no one will be you. 

Proposal

I have been searching peace for the last couple of weeks. I'm trying to forgive and forget, to move on, to find something better for my life and to make me feel that I've been left with a reason on this Earth and I have more to do. 
More than just laying in my pjs in bed, crying about how miserable life is and how God has no mercy and He gives us something just to take it back later and rub in in our face. 

Yes, I miss those days when my only problems were if I should cuddle with you all day or should I bake you a friggin cake. And I miss those mornings in your arms in your small apartment at the sea side. The sea breeze coming through the window and the sun light on your cocoa butter skin.

And honey, do you remember those so called fights that we used to have about who's funnier than who? Or those nagging nights when you used to come back home late and I was expecting you in the middle of the bed with my baby lip and you were all worried why am I crying? And those warm kisses after your long trips... And those trips, the magnificent view of the Indian Ocean just right outside our window. Oh God, I've seen Heaven on Earth with you!
And I miss the lavender smell that surrounded us in that small bedroom that we had in Paris.
But the most important and painful thing that I miss is your voice and your touch; the whole you when you were with me.

I still wonder what if I said "yes" and we were a family, I was yours for life and you were still mine? 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aWmj1bMR4Mo

Memories?

I have found myself in that old attic; it felt so warm and cold in the same time. All my feelings were in a swirl of an unknown direction. I observed the mold and the dusty walls that took a strange shape. I remember the smell.. it smelled like my grandmother’s perfume, like cinnamon. In the back, away from the entry, were lots of things, but the only object that had my attention was an old trunk. When I opened it, black and white pictures were staring right back at me. All of my family since the beginning was forgotten up there, in that beautiful but old case. On the right side was my mother’s wedding dress… the light that came through the small rounded window made it look so special… suddenly I felt safe, I was home.

Comet

                     Se pare ca fac aceeasi prostie in mod repetat. De ce spunem ca omul invata din greseli? Sau poate sunt eu prea fucked up si nu reusesc sa mai invat nimic din nimic. de fapt... pana si formularea mea o spune, nimic din nimic, egal un mare nimic, un mare gol. un gol care se umple de durere si resentimente. si toate abia asteapta sa iasa la suprafata. 

Si atunci cand o fac, e galagie. Si agitatie. Si nu suport. I wish it could be over. 

                    As vrea ca macar o data sa nu ma mai ascund, sa fiu eu si sa fiu acceptata asa cum sunt. Oare de ce nu pot trece de zidul asta construit in mintea mea? 

De ce mi-e frica, doar pentru ca sunt diferita de stereotipurile secolului astuia? 

Poate ca sunt asa speriata de ceea ce este mediatizat si idolatrizat, incat am inceput sa ma urasc si sa ma ranesc singura. 

Am I fucked up? Am I going insane?! De ce sunt asa speriata de lumea de afara?

De ce prefer sa ma transform intr-o gaura neagra si sa atrag spre mine suflete care se pierd? 

Candva puteam sa ajut, sa fiu folositoare, I don't feel like that no more. 

The only thing that I feel is pain and sorrow, and I'm so used to it that I can't and I won't have a reaction.

Si ce e cu dragostea? Sentimentele sunt overrated. Ele nu fac decat sa te ajute sa te minti pe moment, sa te lasi pierdut in bratele cuiva, care va da cu tine de pamant cu prima ocazie. Si pentru ce? 

Sa ajungi sa te desconsideri pentru ca ai fost lasat pentru un pachet de prostie frumos impachetat? 

I don't need love, hell! 

Oficial

Oficial am cateva lucruri de zis:
1. O sa incep lucrul curand.. mor de bucurie, sunt in extaz.
2. Ma bucur ca a inceput sa infloreasca din nou dorinta aia de a avea pe cineva aproape.
3. Imi place sa ma iau de tine.
4. Facultatea ma omoara.
5. Maine am 2 examene, wish me luck.

Dragoste interzisa. Dragoste permisa!

take that

Criza existentiala

Zilele astea creierul meu s-a lovit de o intrebare destul de dura, si anume "cat de mult tinem la traditie in ziua de azi?". Cat este de importanta pentru noi?

Lucrul complicat il reprezinta si nationalitatea, pentru ca suntem foarte multi nascuti intr-o tara in care dominante sunt alte concepte, alte idei, dar totusi facem parte dintr-un grup cu traditii inradacinate bine.

Oare chiar mai este necesar sa tinem de ceva din trecut atat de crunt? Nu putem sa fim relaxati? Evolutia nu inseamna asimilarea traditiilor si contopirea lor cu ideile noi? 

De ce diferenta dintre generatii trebuie sa fie atat de vizbila? Si de ce trebuie sa traim cu spaima ca se pot intampla atatea lucruri, sa fim judecati pentru ceea ce facem, daca nu am respectat o lege nescrisa de acum cateva sute de ani? Suntem chiar atat de inchisi la minte?

Where I stood

Punct si de la capat pentru sufletul meu. 

Incep cu o intrebare: cat de repede se vindeca un suflet? 

Are cumva vreun termen pe care eu nu il stiu?

Nu. Nu regret nimic. 

Imi canta in minte "non, je ne regrette rien." 

Imi doresc sa te fac sa ma iubesti.

Tinutul de mana al copilariei, adormitul impreuna (stiu ca iti place sa adorm la tine in brate). sper sa o faca si ea. Dar nu la fel ca mine. Sper sa-ti aduca aminte mereu de mine.

Caractere diferite. De ce se spune ca opusul se atrage? Este o regula universal valabila? 

Maturitate. Un cuvant prea mare pentru tine... o sa cresti, o sa realizezi. 

Instinct matern? Asta cauta un barbat? O femeie care il poate tine precum face mama lui? 

Oare asa de mult s-a schimbat lumea? Oare sunt singura care a trecut prin asta? 

De ce atat de multe intrebari? 

Final. Da. Asta isi doreste oricine. Gata cu gandurile. 

Pentru tine... Cos she won't love you more than I could She who dares to stand where I stood!

And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call
You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all
But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you
This is what I have to do

Past

Incerci sa uiti, sa eviti, sa nu mai plangi.. doar sa razi.. sa razi cu un zambet care de fapt nu-ti apartine. Un zambet care vrea doar sa-ti mascheze frustrarile, ranile adanci din suflet. Cu cat razi mai mult, cu atat ranile sangereaza mai puternic.

Esti tare, dar cand il privesti parca te loveste si-ti opreste respiratia.Peste tot se aseaza praful greu al linistii.. tu esti obligat sa-l inhalezi.Si deodata se ridica.. Un mesaj, apoi un telefon, o intalnire, un pahar in plus. O seara de neuitat. O seara ca inainte.

Apoi iar liniste. Zilele trec repede si incerci sa-ti revii.Iar primesti un mesaj.. un mesaj cum iti dadea inainte. Tu te grabesti sa raspunzi.... si nu-i mai vine niciun reply.Te ascunzi sub plapuma.. iti strangi genunchii la piept si cu lacrimi amare iti intinzi rimelul.

Ramai insemnata de iubiri trecute...