Te ia pe neasteptate ca un deja-vu neplacut, prin care stii ca ai mai trecut de nenumarate ori, de fiecare data sperand sa fie ultima oara cand trebuie sa treci prin asa ceva, ultima discutie cand unul dintre voi nu intelege ce se intampla, iar celuilalt nu ii e clar ca face ce trebuie…

Ajunge in casa lor, epuizat dupa o zi grea de lucru, asteptand toata ziua acel moment cand isi ia iubita in brate si stie ca ziua s-a terminat si ca a ajuns in locul lui de refugiu…in bratele ei!
Dar astazi e ceva diferit…simte ca bratele ei nu sunt asa primitoare ca alta data iar ochii ei, tristete exprima, asa ca o intreaba “ce e cu tine, ce s-a intamplat ?”
Raspunsul primit ii e unul foarte familiar, la dat insusi de nenumarate ori…acel “trebuie sa vorbim”.
Stie din acel moment unde cursul discutiei ii va duce si stie ca nisipul din clepsidra fericirii urmeaza sa scuipe ultimile firicele.

Pentru toata dragostea si respectul imens ce ii poarta, o asculta si nu alege sa rupa usa si sa fuga in negura noptii, chiar daca asta si-ar fi dorit!

“Esti iubitul meu, partenerul meu…esti cel mai bun prieten al meu! Ai fost langa mine atatia ani…cand am fost bolnava sau suparata, am plans impreuna dupa care m-ai facut sa rad mereu…cand vroiai sa fugi gol pe strada sau cand erai beat si imi promiteai ca a doua zi inchiriam doi copii si mergem la Zoo…te-am iubit enorm in momentele alea.
Dar au trecut anii ca un zbor de cursa lunga si vad cum ne-am distantat cu timpul si am ajuns sa traim doua vieti paralele, in care tu esti cu serviciul tau, cu prietenii tai, facand si spunand lucruri care nu mai definesc in mine, persoana de care m-am indragostit cu atatia ani in urma…amintirea find singurul lucru care ne mai tine impreuna. Cred ca am fi amandoi mai fericiti daca ne-am desparti si am lua-o pe drumuri diferite.”

Nu poate sa isi dea seama daca ce aude e realitatea dura sau doar un cosmar de prost gust…gatul ii e uscat..pieptul explodeaza..lacrimi ii ard fata…o ia in brate si ii spune ca se poate schimba pentru ea si ca poate face ca lucrurile sa fie ca la inceputul lor fericit, dar stie in adancul sau ca nu mai e posibil.

O iubeste cu tot ce inseamna persoana lui dar in acelasi timp, stie ca vorbele ei nu sunt aruncate la repeziciune si chiar gaseste adevar in ele, oricat de greu ii e sa accepte.
O vede ca se ridica, isi pune geaca pe ea si merge in cealalta camera de unde se intoarce cu un bagaj ce era facut deja, si ii spune:
“Stiu ce iti fac acum si cat de mult suferi, la fel o fac si eu, dar vei vedea dupa un timp, in care sufletul se va vindeca, ca am luat decizia buna” cu lacrimi in ochi ii spune “iti vei jura iubirea altei femei care va putea sa te
faca mai fericit decat am putut eu. Te iubesc enorm sa stii!” Il trage spre ea si il mai saruta pasional o ultima data si fuge pe usa…

Urla, sparge, loveste, plange…simte cum a fost injunghiat in inima si cum sufletul i se destrama intr-un infinit de bucatele crezand ca nu le va mai putea unii niciodata…simte cum cade intr-o prapastie intunecata si tot astepta sa atinga fundul care intarzie sa apara.

Cu mainile insangerate, de la atatea lovituri, isi aprinde o tigara si se intinde pe jos peste vesela sparta…se scufunda in tacere!
Ii sparge timpanele linistea de dupa furtuna…



A night in Bairro Alto

I sat down on a sidewalk being too fucked up of everything that meant life. Kicking a spliff up the roof. It was a much hotter night than expected and I was annoyed as hell of bringing a jacket that I had to wear on my shoulder. Each step reminded me of it.

So there I was…felling all the past three nights of partying, not being able to wake up the body the fourth time. I was on a dubious street in a crazy neighborhood called Bairro Alto. People passing, yelling, drunk speaking, kissing, hugging, spilling booze, smoking smileys…living the night they’ll forget in the morning.

On my right was a hard rock kind of a crapy bar and on the left a latin kind of establishment. Sitting in the middle of both I heard a mix of them. Latino Rock. Wonderful. I was wondering if fans could appear from dust and dig this shity music.

I was already accepting the shady decision of going home at 23:48 on a Saturday night, with all the “I’m to old for this shit” kind of thoughts.
By a mysterious force my glass slipped trough my hand, making my head turned right…and then…I seen her. A goddess of beauty. Blond, strong tan, striking blue eyes, marvelous body, walking with an impossible to be faked grace.
She was wearing black, ripped out jeans, white top and a caro shirt tied on her waist. She passed by, totally ignoring me, with her headphones on, smiling from her own world, not carrying about anything or anybody around her.

I was stunned. My hangover/drunk burning state was immediately put out by her floating appearance and as she was about to turn on the corner, I rose like a possessed soul. I was afraid of letting that one sight becoming a unique experience.

There was a brief moment when I lost her of my sight, so the last steps before reaching the corner were almost run down.

I haven’t noticed before, but she had a backpack on. A rum bottle holding drunk teddybear. Who has something like that? I already loved her!
After hundred meters of walking like a stalker behind her, she entered a building. No sign hanging. No people in front. It was an entrance without a door, just some stairs waiting five meters away after you entered. Damn, she arrived home.

Nonetheless, in my enthusiastic state I was thinking…what if she didn’t? So I entered and went up the stairs.
I was on a balcony of a large closed court, filled with white columns and arcs. Roman style.
I was so amazed, I almost crapped my pants.
The court was filled with people, both on the balcony and down in the court. Green lights were shading some beautiful sculptures on the balcony and flashlights were smiling in the court, were a beautiful crowd danced the moment of. It was heaven!
In my blissful, inattentive moment…I lost my goddess. Hey…where are you??
But before I could panic, I’ve seen her stepping down in the courtyard, so I followed.
I increased my walking pace and when she was next to me I said “have you seen the two guys wearing panda suits, fighting over a lollipop outside?”. It was a bad icebreaker, I knew it.

“Yes, I did” she answers “the guys were up to no good the whole night. I’ve seen them fighting with some ballerinas for their tutu es earlier”. She looks at me very serious for a moment and then starts laughing. Priceless.
“What’s becoming of this world. You’re not safe on the streets anymore.” I told her by returning a smile.
“I’m Rita, in case you’re wondering”
“Hi, I’m wondering. But my name is Vladislavovichi.” This made her face transform into a subtle giggle, that ended up in a half smile.
She asks me something but the music was getting loud, so I had to move closer and ask her to repeat.
“I haven’t seen you around here much. Are you coming often?”

“Yes. In the future. I just stormed in for the first time. But you look as if you own this place and the people around are like you’re family” I told her and while doing that, I was already speaking close to her ear, since the music was already too loud. Which was good. She was smelling like a sweat flower and her skin seemed incredible soft.

“You’re close by, but I’m not the owner, instead I’m the PR of this movement and in this crowd are some of my best friends”. She then explained me that this is an event that happens once a month. Always in a new location which is known only on the day when its taking place.
“How did you know about it?” she asks me afterwards.

“I followed you here” I told her with my most charming smile on, but I think it looked like a stalker smile.

“So it was you at the Latino Rockade earlier. I’ve seen you sitting there, waisting liquor. But here you are now. What do you do for a living Vladislavovici?”

“I’m a Happiness Scout. Searching for talents everywhere.” She smiled. “Since I lost my glass to gravity and you just arrived, let’s grab something to drink together. What say you?”

“I will come with you, but only if you…”

“Sir! Sir, we reached Saldanha!” yells an old cab driver and gives me a polite shake.
I was sleeping on the back seat of a cab at 6 something AM returning home from the same Bairro Alto. Was it just a dream?



I’ve been told that sincerity, good manners, evolving and jumping over limits, are habits of the former generations because ours changed.

Now we should show off with everything that we hope to have or be in a few years, always speaking, even if we have nothing to say; go out just to see other people that are watching other people; have conversation that are never more complicated than the usual weather talk and most of all be as simple as it can get, so you are easy to be understood by all jellyfish-minded folks.

Well my dear Sir’s, I strongly disagree with you !!

If we are showing a fake being, lying, cheating to ourselves, we already lost the game before it started. The best cards, are those on the table in my opinion.
So speak up your mind, my friend…what she’s really yelling.

As far as I remember, going out was meant for dancing your soul out with your friends and possible “more than friends” friends, leaving the club all sweaty and exhausted. And not for a “let’s see what other people are doing” session. What the hell are you doing? Fell the music, dance the music, beat up the Dj if he’s playing shity music, but do not lay like stoned zombies with one glass in your hand and the other occupied with being in your pocket. We are dancers after all.

We are as social as a species can probably get, but nonetheless we have the liberty to choose a circle, in which we can find our rain dance and bring out the storm and imagine…even going out of the gym talks…crazy huh??

And don’t you dare to be simple! Be complicated, divers, multilayered and as colorful as possible. Don’t take the same identity as of those around you…be different.

So go…blow some steam out, think about it a bit…leave the shirt hanging, take your sneakers on and go have fun, dance and meet other colorful people.



Te-am vazut de multe ori trecand pe langa mine, dar de fiecare data pana sa incerc sa te prind, dispareai si o data cu tine furai si clipa.
Cateodata vorbeam cu cineva, ma uitam in alta parte, ma prosteam, dormeam, eram beat sau doar nu eram atent.

Iar cand imi dadeam seama ca ai fugit iar de langa mine, vroiam sa revin la acea clipa sau la acel loc, poate poate voi mai putea trai o data acel moment ce eu l-am ratat, cand tu te-ai miscat ca o umbra blanda prin spatele meu, lasand doar parfumul tau in urma…dar nu reuseam niciodata sa te aduc inapoi, ci doar realizam cu nostalgie ca am mai pierdut o sansa.

Intr-o zi inceputa ca oricare alta totusi, ma gaseam pe plaja chiar inainte sa apuna soarele in ocean…cu un cer pastelat fantastic de razele reflectate atat in apa cat si in nori….si atunci te-am vazut pentru prima data la fata, mai clar ca niciodata.

Alergai in jurul meu fara nici o grija, cu zambetul mare cat un curcubeu pe buze, asteptand parca sa intind mana sa te prind. Si ma strigai. Doamne ce glas de zeita aveai…”hai si prinde-ma, sunt aici. Am fost mereu!”

Atunci am stiut mai bine ca nici o alta data ce am de facut…m-am trezit dintr-un somn, foarte adanc parca si am stiu cum sa ma prind de tine, sa nu iti mai dau drumul in veci. Si te-am prins. Uff prin cate am trecut de atunci. M-ai dus pe culmile fericirii si in Taramul Zambetului, de unde nu m-ai mai lasat sa plec.

Mi-ai aratat ca pentru a te putea simti pe deplin, trebuie sa imi dau ochelarii ignorantei jos ca sa pot vedea ce ai tu de oferit. Asa ca vad totul cu ochii limpezi acum si tu nu mi te mai ascunzi in umbre, ci mi te arati asa cum esti…frumoasa….complicata…dura…blanda…dar fericita.

Nu iti mai dau drumul…ma tin de tine cu mainile, dintii si speranta. Vreau sa imi arati tot ce ai, tot ce stii si ce nu stii…vreau sa ramai mereu langa mine si nu mai treci niciodata nevazuta.

Cei care te vad cu adevarat te numesc mereu altfel; fiecare are alt nume pentru tine si tu ai alta infatisare pentru fiecare dintre ei…unii te numesc familie, altii traire, trecut, viitor sau prezent…eu? Eu te numesc Viata si iti spun si acum, ca in fiecare dimineata…te iubesc!!

Carpe diem.

Usa zambetului

De ce nu inchizi ochii si nu ii deschizi cu zambetul pe buze? De ce te trezesti suparat si iti ia 3-4 ore sa gasesti rasul ce sta la panda in tine? De ce nu mai simti fericirea ce statea sa explodeze in pieptul tau, asa cum o faceai alta data? De ce iti spun prietenii ca ai pus un lacat mare pe tine ce nu se mai deschide asa usor? De ce?

Fiecare are alt raspuns la intrebarile astea…fie ca e o pierdere a unei persoane ce ti-a fost draga, o trauma suferita, sau doar o multitudine de intamplari nefericite ce te-au adus la concluzia ca viata pe care o traiesti, nu e cea la care ai visat cu multi ani in urma.
Spre bucuria universului, mai sunt si cei ce nu au un raspuns la aceste intrebari si nu pentru ca nu stiu, ci pentru ca aceste intrebari nu apar, traind opusul lor. Printre ei ma numar si eu.

Dar in cazul meu, adevarul e ca nu a fost mereu asa, iar la fel ca multi altii, am trecut si eu prin perioade mai triste decat betia fericirii.

Dupa mult timp petrecut in sevraj, am realizat ca eu sunt cel mai mare inamic al meu, din simplul motiv ca gandurile mele ma aduceau mereu in locul unde rana era deschisa si mereu apasau pe ea, la fel cum si tu iti atingi dintele jucaus ce te doare doar prin prezenta cariei, nemaivorbind de atingere.

Cred ca noi oamenii suntem niste fiinte incredibile, pentru aptitudinea de a face fata durerii sau tristetii supraomenesti fara a claca in fata lor.

La fel cum din reflex te feresti de o minge ce zboara inspre tine, la fel si subconstientul nostru are reflexe de aparare impotriva durerii interioare, care te amortesc ca sa nu mai simti totul asa intens, dar din nefericire nu rezolva niciodata problema ci doar o face mai suportabila.

Marii filozofi antici, vorbeau despre patru usi care se pot deschide cand omul e supus unei traume puternice sau unei suferinte mari.

Prima usa e somnul, care apare imediat, pentru a lasa ceva timp sa treaca intre “acum” si momentul ce ti-a cauzat suferinta, la fel cum corpul cade in inconstienta cand trece printr-o durere insuportabila.

A doua usa e uitarea. Pentru ca unele trairi si experiente sunt prea puternice, alegem inconstient, sa uitam pur si simplu ca s-au intamplat, reprimandu-le.

In unele cazuri, omul nu mai poate face fata si pentru a se proteja pe sine, alege sa evadeze din realitate si poate ajunge din pacate la a treia usa, care este dementa.

A patra si cea mai trista dintre usi este moartea, unde nu te mai poate atinge nimic.

Sper ca niciodata nu te-ai lovit sau intalnit cu vreuna dintre usi si ca nu o vei face niciodata, pentru ca nu exista problema la care sa nu existe un fel de rezolvare.

Cum am mentionat mai devreme, imi dadusem seama ca eu sunt cel ce trage inapoi cand vine vorba de fericirea mea, asa ca am luat o decizie ce mi-a schimbat viata si anume ca nu imi voi mai face niciodata ganduri sau probleme despre lucrurile, peste care nu am puterea sa le schimb.

De ce as si face-o? Viata nu e perfecta si nu va fi niciodata. Mereu va aparea ceva ce ar putea fi mai bine, iar daca stau mereu sa imi fac in cap scenarii despre perfectiune, nu ma voi bucura nicidata de ce am in mana. Iar de aceea cred ca fericirea nu inseamna sa primesti tot ce ti-ai dorit, pe tava, ci sa te bucuri si sa aprecezi ce ai.

E altceva daca te gandesti la viitor, “locul” unde inca ai ceva de spus, dar daca lucrurile s-au intamplat deja, accepta-le, intelege-le si du-te inainte, dar nu te lasa doborat!!

“Invinge durerea, fii fericit cat se poate, caci tot la zi ajunge si cea mai lunga noapte”- William Shakespeare