Trees that wear hats

"Vis ce da in complacere, in pierderea ambitiei... Iubeste-o pentru ea insasi.. Nu pentru atentia ce ti-o ofera, nu pentru imaginea ei/voastra. Nu pentru egoul umflat... nu te gandi la ce castigi, la ce primesti, la ce trebuie sa dai. Iubeste-o daca ai iubi-o fiind departe. Iubeste-o pentru ea insasi."  Zise copilul cu flori grabit batranului ce astepta sa traiasca.

"In terms of sensory happiness, I guess you can listen to music all day but you can't have sex alone. In terms of... long-lasting, mental, healthy happiness, I imagine you have to be surrounded by people, after you have surrounded yourself with yourself first. Both so natural, yet one of constant pains and cravings (which I have chased) and the other almost invisible, feeble, but nonetheless rewarding, restricted only to the humans who have not forgotten to be more than nature but less than truly human. Because I believe being human is just what sets man appart from nature, how he denies trying to just follow its flow, but master it, crave comfort and insist that change is obsolete and that evrything can be controlled and predicted... we have to have that, but being natural helps, because full humans are either robots or anarchists. Which happiness to follow? Come on. You're not an ubermensch... and you wouldn't want to be either. And I hope you're not an a

Monthly: I love you, miss you and thank you. How making these sayings a routine makes the words lifeless and devoid of soul... it's your perception, dear, always has, always will be. Let's pain together.

Acum, repede, cât mi se răcesc gândurile... repede, repede.. Aș vrea să mă visez la nesfârșit cântând, să mă pierd ca într-o boală psihică în închipuiri... aș vrea să fie pur romantism... dar îmi e teamă că e doar slăbiciune.. Să aleg mereu calea minimei rezistențe, să îmi las nevoia de atenție, de acceptare, de un "tu" mai înțelegător... să mă prindă, să mă învăluie. E atât de fals, totuși... nici nu mai știu ce idei noi să spun. Uite-mă în propriul meu nicăieri, unde singurele minciuni înseamnă doar slăbiciuni, unde orice renunțare înseamnă moarte, unde viitorul și trecutul nu există. Contează doar ce sunt acum, dacă doare. Mereu trebuie să doară. Infuziile de încredere în sine, de fericire, de viață calmă... sunt așa trecătoare... starea de bine pare să aleagă să se exprime doar în comprimate filmate. Glumesc, evident. E doar percepția noastră. Așa e bine... durerea și fericirea pot fi congruente... durere fiind doar... ca ieșirea fătului din uter. Ca trauma ce lasă

Little psychotic laughter. Ahahahaha... Where have the friends gone? Why would I anything? Can I be forgotten quicker than this each second vanishing into obscurity since its conception? What? Classic boredom, mind too numb and excited by all unnatural neon lights, pharmaceuticals, LED screens, ads... Yea, we know that... I know, why would I say anything... you can already find out pretty much everything... Why are you such a... no, won't define you. Just drowned in senseless compliments, lacking goals, lacking pain, training, people... parenting makes it not worth living. And besides, my mind begins conquering me again... this path of minimal resistence is so... irresistible.  Just hold on to your colors... Could be... The past is a person too... less knowledgeable... When the others fade and romance creeps in, sure he is. 

Just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, yaay :D

Trying to prolong my words is just useless now. It's people, it's all about people. We live for people... I am weakest when alone, forgetful when in the comfort of attention... It's all about how we treat everyone. Why sarcasm is so linked with frustration, why I've been day-dreaming today... And come on! I even judge what I write and delete based on what people think... I try to be who I want so that I can fit, I can balance out communities. I choose not to be creative and just say... I don't know, I keep thinking about what you want or need to hear... who the hell are you anyway? Is it only you? Am I trying to gain attention? All that day-dreaming is my unparalleled need for attention and ability to express myself. Are you there? Can you see me? And everytime we go past each other and I don't tell you... or actually every moment I don't tell you... it hurts. And I don't even care who, where or how you are... you can understand... because

Sun goes down, thoughts go wild... we may tend to lose ourselves among egocentric scenarios and excuses.. Sometimes the image becomes more potent than the core.. to stray... I mean stay true to a representative motivation. I wish to pray, really... perhaps the deity between man and information will listen. The nevers and the nows seem absent. We need that warmth of security, whilst letting the frost of adaptation bite from our bones. I write slow... the words seem to sink and I can see my typical origins. I pray so that both of us can know the love and the self-esteem are continuous motions in constant redefinition. I pray so that both of us can be thankful even when an ego would dictate otherwise. To realize how much of a secondary character we are, owing our good to the world through not sharing evil, to allowance and inspiration, rather than compliments, lies and faked altruism or nobility. I am guilty of the all and I need to thank you, darling. Only I gave you meaning, bu