Trees that wear hats

Show me how to live

I bow in respect to all who would give these words any meaning. I exhale gratitude for, like my world, it is only the outside that could reflect the inside. Yes, it's you. You and me. Ever realizing how entangled we have become. How improbable... yet should it have been different, my love for you would have vanished. As I rust in yet another attempt at your changing heart, let me bore you yet again. An April. One friend, yet another grateful soul. Excited, watching the seed sprout. One step. Another yet. Waves after waves of appearance, of a naive grape juice fermenting inside. It would grow out of me... holding my hand whilst being part of me. It would hide my evilest intentions and mirror my selfless acts. It is whatever I make of it, for each of us, unique. If it rhymes, it's because we decided. Should I learn, it's because we needed it. One wrong step being nothing more than a curious dive into the unknown, only to reveal a path I wish not to predict. To get r...

This is group therapy. Otherwise known as... self-therapy involving the gratitude and sense of belonging offered by knowing you have aided other people. But it won't work. What does it mean "to aid other people"? Is it to help one manage difficult times? Ease emotional pain or offer material support? If the answer was yes, then we would be faced with a very subtle problem. An organism that bathes in comfort, not having to face life-threatening challenges... is prone to decay. Obviously, it is not that simple. Aiding comes in many forms... even a lesson, even though transmitted through a painful experience... can be considered aid. It's like history that proves how humanity is cruel... or how, as we grow older, hopefully begin to realise our own hypocrisy. It's like gravity, it never  misses a chance to punish us for every mistake and misballance. Yes, but the outcome is gorgeous, we get to walk. To conclude... aid can be considered either offering support o...

Hah, I almost fell prey to emotions again... almost descending to your level. Wrote a whole post, and now you will never know how I feel. Again. If I kept being angry, maybe you would have figured out that there is something wrong with you... but I just have to remember to understand you, remind myself that you are a human among human and that... no matter what you'd do to me or to others... I am capable of understanding and loving you... and I cannot keep being angry. I am tired and alone. And my constant drift between patterns and well-defined types has cast me away in too much solitude... it would be so easy to just go back to being a hedonistic cry-baby... I cannot afford to complain or to demand any less struggle, I am already working way less than I should be. It is, all my fault. But... here's a glimpse of the part of me that I hope I'll always keep under control: "4th post of stress. Ok. There has always been anger in my drafts... no, not the pints, the...

Of violence, of hatred I siphon through thy veins. On the lack of truth, on the masks and the momentary lapses of reasons. Hope... begone. Life unleashed. Come, stab all young seedlings until you can understand their ashes. Go, kill unpurged tales of two evils symbiotically twisted. Begone, cousin of the unleashed... child of the untrue. Ensued in the walks if life this... message sent through blazing intuition, keeps working through mangled ventures. Have we, have all, pushed away all we cannot understand... would not understand? Manifest of the undertaken, my sibling develops, my brothers whisper. Forsaken are all children in seas of ignorance. To understand is to love. Shred along, my mind... depleted. Should these be my last words, regret would overcome me. Should these be my last, fear would obsess me. Yet who am I in the face of my appearance, insecurities and enclosed minds of others? Used to be a tree, became charcoal.

Seek change. Pain and pleasure alike. Work and care alike.

Oh, tu: vrăjitoare. La mine vii. Cum mintea îmi sucești, ochii amețești iar eu sfârâi în propria-mi dorință de confort. Să continui, să nu mă las, oh, tu trandafir alb de mult uitat în adâncurile unei inime de mult stinse. Când te chemi în oglindă, când vorbești cu a ta dorință, fii tu fir de copac, fă-mă drag și dor în culcușul pleoapelor tale. Brațe firave, ochii fug de ai mei... Îți scriu o oglindă, să mă vezi cum nu renunț. Cum încă regret și continui să învăț și să muncesc... și acum ești aici în vârfurile degetelor mele și îmi ții de cald. Oh, de te-ai vedea... Cum încă am ambiție... cum încă am un randament... Dragele mele legi ale termodinamicii, mă asigurați că ma voi desprinde de mine, că voi toți veți vedea cum suntem toți egali, când doar praf va fi între noi, iar noi tot praf vom fi. Înțeleg, nu te mai supăra pe mine. Scopul nu este confort, nici fericire. Scopul se schimbă, e frustrant să îl cauți. Așa că mă vei căuta, și ne vom găsi îmbrățișați, departe de o...

Is there nothing? Isn't.  Nothing can be achieved without its contrary. Inexistance demands it to be.  Devoid in a thundering chasm, a fiery salient and write. Write away, write till you erase what would be. Living in an age of recycling. Drawing the same lines our predecessors did, with no other curves, keeping the direction. If you gave me an enormous line, and i continued it a bit, would I matter? Fearesome in front of change. Stability and certainty... bastions upon which our minds rest, unable to cope with the system that... oh, damn... I got sure again. I am afraid of not being alright. Devoid of all desire. Devoid in a thundering chasm, a fiery salient and read. Read away, read till you fill in what wouldn't be. Dying in an age of renewing. Erasing other lines our successors would draw, many other curves, keeping the motion. If I gave you my little drawing, and you'd close an eye, would I remain? Brave in front of... wait. Fearsome in f...