luni, august 22, 2011

Yes, I'm back for good

Vorbeam aseara cu cineva si imi zicea ca, oricat de ok ar fi o perioada anume in compania cuiva, tot simte nevoia de momente de singuratate. Si i-am dat dreptate. I-am dat in sensul ca si eu sunt la fel. Pana la urma, ceva e un adevar pentru mine daca il traiesc si eu. Oricum, senzatia ramane ciudata. Dar placuta. Sa fie din cauza ca sunt unele lucruri din noi care ar vrea sa se manifeste, dar pe care le cenzuram total in prezenta celorlalti? Poate. Verdicte am incetat sa mai dau. Imi place sa ma joc, sa problematizez. Sa iau in deradere ce altii iau in serios. Si invers. De ce nu? Aaa… si daca stau bine si ma gandesc, poate ca nici nu conteaza asa mult de ce se intampla sa vrem sa fugim in noi, ci ca se intampla. Asa cum ploua. Pentru ca oamenii s-au impacat cu ploaia si inainte sa si-o explice ca fenomen meteorologic. Au convietuit cu ea. S-au ajutat de ea. De ce nu ar putea fi la fel si cu fenomenele interne? Te simti bine cand fugi de restul? Io zic ca e bine sa fugi, sportul face bine.

marți, iunie 07, 2011

The Egg

You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.

Source: Andi Weir,

sâmbătă, iunie 04, 2011


Sunt afara
Sunt rock, sunt o trupa din San Francisco
Sunt in jurul oricarei insule, aproape zilnic
Sunt un delfin rar care interactioneaza de bunavoie cu oamenii, dar numai in mediul sau natural din ocean
Ma situez undeva intre 1982 si 1983
Sunt pe pagina
Nu sunt in poza
Sunt in inchisoare
Sunt confuza si nu pot sa inteleg un asemenea barbarism
Sunt un demon si m-am intors
Sunt un baietel trist cu nevoie de afectiune
Nu sunt un nume, ci doar o combinatie de nume si prenume ale personajelor principale din poveste
Am patru ani
Sunt o experienta de joc incredibila, umbrita doar de imbalance-ul oribil al eroului
Ma gasesti online oricand, incepand din acest moment
Sunt o frumusete rara
Sunt un suflet
Sunt un iepuras
Sunt o alegere naturala pentru un fighting game
Sunt un baietoi
Sunt singurul carnivor nascut in salbaticie care s-a apropiat de cercetatOri
Sunt dusmanul fetelor PowerPuff
Sunt o piatra
Sunt propriul meu copil
Sunt o emisiune excelenta
Am dreptate
Sunt programator si manager de site
Sunt viitorul vostru
Sunt considerata suspectul principal
Imi creez propria statuie
Sunt capabila sa cred ca alti barbati sunt atragatori
Sunt pe cale sa evadez
Sunt un manual cu instructiuni
Nu sunt singura
Sunt un baietel mulatru, in varsta de doi ani
Il insel pe Pacey cu Joe Cusack
Sunt diferita
Sunt o oaza de pace
Sunt in dreapta ta
Sunt sora ta
Nu sunt sotia mea
Sunt cea mai potrivita pentru acest gen de munca
Sunt pe cale sa zbor inapoi in Kuala Lumpur

vineri, iunie 03, 2011

sâmbătă, mai 28, 2011

Ne e cumva frica sa vorbim despre protestele din Spania?

Valul de proteste din Spania se intinde in toata Europa. Totul a pornit acum doua saptamani, cand spaniolii au inceput sa-si ceara drepturile pe care se presupune ca democratia le asigura.
Initiativele miscarii M-15 si ale platformei Democracia Real Ya au reusit sa adune mii de tineri care-si cer adevarata democratie.
Rata somajului de peste 22% si piata aflata in cadere libera a determinat un numar din ce in ce mai mare de oameni sa renunte la suportarea crizei in mod pasiv si sa iasa in strada la protest.

Un comunicat oficial al Democracia real Ya anunta ieri: "Ca miscare pacifista, condamnam violenta politica exercitata impotriva cetatenilor fara drepturi si suntem solidari cu toti aceia care au fost afectati. Cerem curatarea responsabilitatilor politice pe motiv ca aceste actiuni sunt improprii unei democratii reale.
Democracia Real Ya se prezinta ca un grup al caror membri "nu va organiza si nici nu va tolera niciun tip de violenta, acte de vandalism, rasiste, homofobe sau xenofobe fata de persoane, grupuri sau asociatii. Este o miscare pacifista."

Pe 21 mai, aproximativ 85 000 de oameni au iesit in strada in intreaga tara, in timp ce unele asociatii spaniole afirma ca numarul protestatarilor ar ajunge la milioane. In aceeasi zi, sute de simpatizanti straini au participat la proteste in Londra, Amsterdam, Bruxelles, Lisabona, Milano, Budapesta, Paris, Berlin, Viena si Roma.

Ca tanar, nu pot decat sa salut actiunea tuturor celor care au inteles ca schimbarea in bine este in mainile noastre si o putem obtine (sic!) si folosindu-ne de retelele sociale.
Pana una, alta, cateva video-uri care m-au facut sa-mi dau seama ca nimic nu se compara cu o mare de oameni, frumosi, calzi, care-si cer dreptul la o viata mai buna. Nu vor nici putere, nu vor nici bani. Vor doar o viata mai buna si vor sa aiba certitudinea ca ziua de maine va fi una in care isi vor putea cladi o lume bazata pe echilibru, nu pe opresiunea creata de austeritate.