Down on Earth

Down on Lonely Avenue

I tripped

On a hell of a shell

And I fell

Me, an urban hippie

My floral gown, ripped…

Down in the void

A misfit, a rugged bearded man

Escaping, condemning society, materialism

Created his den

An onion, maybe ten

Layers and layers of Zen

Down on Lonely Avenue

My bloody knees

I lost my keys!

I might even have a kidney disease

Please… freeze, or maybe sneeze

To be accident-prone used to be fun

Like a pun

Now, it’s just a bull run.

Down in the void

I try to hold my own

Away from it all

At times, a Buddha in my soul

Seldom, as mad as Sigmund Freud

It’s quiet and free

under this Banyan tree

It’s lonely

only me and the green tea.

Down on Lonely Avenue

I crawl on concrete

I almost lost my wit

Everyone’s laughing at my outfit

My pain, my care

I wanted to transmit

Yet… the masses only perceive

that my cardigan is vintage and double- knit

Down in the void

The retired fellow

On a pension scheme

Of one and a half marshmallow

Banished himself and his cello

to this world of mellow

down bellow.

He renounced the sun

and all of its yellow.

Down on Lonely Avenue

The cruel with all their expensive fuel

Invaded the street

Their feet clad in meat

They bargain and tweet

I admit my defeat

Descend in the void

Oh, wonder!

Who is this other humanoid?

Creepy dolls, interesting exhibition

Curiosity has been defined as ‘ a desire to know, to see or to experience, that motivates exploratory behaviour directed towards the acquisition of new information’. Curiosity is something that we all experience at a moment or another in our lives and we perceive it as something absolutely normal. Curiosity drives us to explore, to learn and ultimately to improve ourselves. However, when a curiosity for morbid, scary, obscure and creepy objects, events, places or experiences arises things start to become more interesting. I remember that, since childhood I was drawn to abandoned places that had an aura of mystery. I used to enjoy late nights in the countryside, in complete darkness, near hills and forests filled with the shrill sounds of wolves howling and intense stories of ghosts, werewolves, witches, mysterious happenings, devil possessions, the evil eye and so on. There was this dual feeling of fear and fascination that fed the desire to gather every night and continue our horror genre storytelling. The attraction for the obscure and gruesome spills into teenagehood and both novels and movies of the horror genre light our imagination .We tremble at the idea of seeing somehting so horrendous that we might freeze, we vibrate and the suspense almost silences us when the soundtrack of horror movies increases our inner tension. Due to my vivid imagination and my most creative nightmares I am not able to watch horror movies any longer. Yet, I am still drawn to dark places where murders or unspeakable acts of horror or strange events happened. Dark tourism with its allura of history and mystery fascinates me. Add to that all the coverage in the media about school shootings, serial killers, abductions, paranormal phenomena, unknown and too well-known acts of violence. I wonder what sparks our curiosity, our morbid curiosity? Is it an attraction or a fascination for the ghastly acts that we see, for the dark side that might be in lockdown inside all of us? Are we captivated by the idea of ‘the other’, the monster that can commit appaling acts? Or are we charmed by the idea that we all have our inner monsters deep down and that something could trigger a fundamental change in us? The unknown, the unexplored, the creepy,  the macabre lurking in the shadows of our souls. Maybe the darkness inside projects itself onto the world and seeks to connect to display its true nature.

Creepy dolls is a topic that provokes me and stimulates my morbid curiosity. The Gremlins, the famous murderous doll Chucky,  the eerie ventriloquist doll from Goosebumps and other maniacal puppets in movies and novels are absolutely delightful and my lure for them will be eternal. I wonder what is it about creepy dolls that makes them so beguiling? Maybe it is the duality between the humaneness of a doll, its kind and cute aesthetics, its playfulness on one side, and the evil look in its eyes, a misshaped smile, faded paint, broken or lost members, on the other side that makes a doll both creepy and alluring. I have had this intense desire to visit and explore ‘La Isla de las Munecas’ near Mexico City for a long time now. It is a sinister island where creepy dolls greet you at each step. Due to circumstances I haven’t made my way there yet, but I stumbled upon the next best thing, a fairly large exhibition of creepy dolls in Shanghai.  I was awestruck when walking through this land of creepiness and I wanted to share it with everyone! Stay curious! Delve deep into your morbid curiosity!

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Love Metamorphosis

 

Love,

Simple,

Peaceful and fulfilling

For some, for most.

Love,

Multiple personality disorder

Or possibly,

Borderline personality disorder

For me.

 

A voice that speaks sublime,

That chants his name to the sky

But suddenly, a makeover!

The lucky clover turns to ash

And belladonna comes to crush

Fragile, the soul exposed

You flush!

Fragile, naked to the eye,

Your essence unveiled

Free and available

To users and abusers.

The skin, so soft, translucent

Trembles under his fingertips

And then it cracks.

You blush!

Passion is a rush

Take the stash

Of distorted voices, of conflicting emotions

And make a run for it

Never to come back!

Of women and doppelgängers

Woman

angelic, but

daring. Complex and

pragmatic. Clever and dreamy.

A being, to respect and whorship

never static, a manufacturer of zeal

Yet, subdued, forgotten, broken, hurt!

Your fiery nature extinguished

by a culture of scarcity

by expectations

by: I ought to

I should, I have to

I need to, I must, I could,

by: You had better, You might want to

check your sanity, lose a little weight, become a mother

be more curvy, have a girl, then a boy, a hybrid if need be

cook like a chef, fuck like a pornstar, have a perfect family

become famous, look incredible, have the ideal job

hike and give speeches, be sexy and assertive

hit the gym 24/7, clean the house, do yoga

be diplomatic and sensitive, get a boob job

volunteer, write a book, get fuller lips

be self-confident, be a natural

but be perfect, bitch!

don’t try too hard, though

be yourself

forge dopplegangers.

You’re never enough

and you can never be

in this society!

A storm’s charm

storm-windmills

Through the storm in our hearts

Through the veil in our minds

Through the blindness in our eyes

A body of storm cries.

Fearful, yet fascinated

Isolated, yet captivated

Contemplating,

Pulsating

With the rage, awaited.

 

 

Through the blinding, scathing winds

Through the loud and gusty grinds

Through the startling, instant thunders

A soul, tormented

Becomes contented.

See the lightnings penetrating

The world, outside!

Safe and sound in the shelter

Inside, a wise elder

Is and flees from, concurrently

A thunderstorm.

 

My online fundraising campaign to fight COVID 19

Hello everyone, I haven’t posted anything in a while because I have been quite preocuppied with the spread of COVID 19 throughout Europe.

Is has reached my home country, Romania, and we were not prepared and we are still not prepared. The biggest danger is that the much needed protective equipment for doctors and nurses does not exist and our front line in this battle, the medical staff, are completely exposed to the virus.

I have no idea what the authorities are doing or what other associations, foundations, NGOs are doing, because, in my home city most hospitals still lack the equipment recquired when working in a contaminated environment.

Thus, I have decided to start an online fundraising campaign to buy goggles, surgical masks, N95 masks and protective overall suits. Check out my campaign here: https://gogetfunding.com/covid-19-help-for-medical-staff/

And if possible donate as much as you can and want! Thank you in advance!

Moments like these

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There are mornings when the sky is crystal clear, when you open the windows at dawn and you can hear the birds chirping pleasantly. You welcome the first rays of the sun and they delicately caress your face. In moments like those you can feel the peace that floats around you, you can sense that there is purity and gentility inside of a human being, similar to the soft vibrations of nature and its freshness. A cup of coffee, the humid fragrance of last night’s summer storm, the crumbling, yellow pages of a rare, vintage book, your favourite crimson-velvet armchair and all those little things erase the unsolvable complexity of life, and the gigantic questions that can permanently trouble a forever-seeking mind. However, when darkness comes and settles inside the human mind, tension fills the environment, homes, cafes, parks, hearts and entire lives. This overwhelming darkness attempts to let anxiety and fear sneak inside your bones. The serenity of nature that stemmed from your spirit is overtaken by obscurity. In moments like these, the obscurity reveals the rotten and scattered pieces of ego and insecurity that lurk in the tiniest of cells. Darkness seeks to break you. In moments like these, you ponder at everything that led you to where you are right now and you question every choice you have ever made. And sometimes, the voices you hear and the answers you receive are terrifying. They are a proof and a constant reminder that you are failing yourself because you have walked down mistaken paths. More often than not, the whispers that torment you are the fragmented, secret voices of your consciousness that seek to blame you or provide an answer. Either way, the voices are never satisfying enough and regrets appear.

Regrets of things done, of paths taken, of choices made or just the opposite, the bitter, burning taste of ashes in your mouth, the reminder of everything wished and never achieved…glimpses of what could have been, would have been rotate behind closed eyelids. In moments like these, dreams of repressed desires become nightmares and welcome mornings and awakenings with tears and sadness. How do you know you are living the life you are supposed to be living? You often feel trapped in a never-ending routine, an endless cycle of predictable bullshit…eat, sleep, repeat. In moments like these existence seems dull, useless and it keeps spinning inside the same, grim wheel of destiny. The hell of never-ending routine, of isolation, of spontaneity gone awol, of joys and fantastic realms smothered, of unfulfilled purposes and of ardent wishes and desired love lies abandoned at the bottom of the sea. What hurts the most is that regrets or the dire situation of purely surviving and not rejoicing at life’s endless possibilities are entirely of your own doing. You are the only person who is responsible for where you are right now. And sometimes, you just have to take a stance and choose between the roads less travelled by and the beaten track. And yet, you levitate in the ‘Kingdom of Midway’, you struggle and you walk in-between. You play it safe by taking the road that is not predictable, but that it is not entirely unknown either. You are indecisive about your own life and you wait for the winds of change to steer you into the right direction. Two turns to the left, three turns to the right, moving forward for a bit and after, going backwards.

A life full of spontaneity would be intense and risky, but probably worth it. An entirely rational, planned existence would be safe and comfortable. The classical dilemma: Would you rather live an intense and passionate life that is short or a monotonous, long life? I am and I will always be just a kid that can’t decide which cake to choose.

 

P.S: I always had half of my cake and half of one of my parents’ cake!

Existence and Sisyphus

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It seems to me that there has to be more to human existence than the incessant, repetitive pursuit of wild dreams and interminable goals. Regardless of the character, the motivation and the beliefs that fuel the never ending need or desire to achieve certain things, a human being seems to be leading an existence akin to Sisyphus’ punishment.

You set objectives for yourself and you need to climb mountains to reach  your target. Sometimes, the climb is over a low, pastoral hill, but at other times it is over steep and rugged cliffs. Once you have made it to the summit of the mountain, you find yourself right where you started, at the basis of yet, another mountain. Climbing to the top of the mountain by graduating, getting a job, obtaining a good salary, changing to a different job, buying a car, replacing the old car, finding love, forming a family, kids, travelling through the country, then on the continent, after through the whole world – no matter what your desire or goal is, it will always be promptly succeeded by another one. Each human being is a Sisyphus who perpetually climbs mountains until the day she/he draws her/his last breath.

Now, there are those who overcome the climb, who choose to stop on the path and by doing so, they shatter the matrix they are caught in and manage to see behind the veils of mundane existence. They set aside the wild goose chase and they achieve feelings of peacefulness and bliss through their spirit. The place of balance and contentment can be called heaven, nirvana, Valhalla, the field of Yalu, Elysian fields, the Summerland, etc. and opening its gates, ending the repetitive climb equates to escaping samsara. Leaving aside religious branches, the type of beliefs or spirituality you might have, if you can see beyond this earthly, cumbersome existence then you have a belief that is justified because it aided you in transcending your role as Sisyphus.

Then, there are those who graciously enjoy the mountain climbs, who overpower obstacles along the tracks and who enjoy brief moments of respite. They are the ones who breathe in until saturation the fresh mountain air and the ones to whom the constant climbing is not about conquering a final peak, but about the adventurous journey. This arduous journey offers gifts clad in small bites of happiness.

And then, there are the rest, who suffer and who are subdued by the burdens they carry up the mountain.

Thus, during our existence on Earth, we have a few choices. We can surpass our roles as Sisyphus and open the gates to a new realm, where contentment, balance and peace reign. We can also acknowledge our roles as Sishyphus, but perceive the stones we bear as light and revel in the little things along our path and in the climb itself on various mountain ranges. Or we can, as a last resort, pity ourselves in our roles of Sisyphus and succumb to the weight of the bundle and to the strenuous climb.

 

The panic wave

 

Hear, hear

The king of panic and fear!

it’s Monday

or Sunday

or maybe Friday

the days have departed

a mighty routine started

hours and hours,

and weeks,

a month of bacteria

no cafeteria

a deserted city

there isn’t even a kitty

a bleak soul,

Disinfect each and every bowl

breathe in, breathe out

the virus outside!

This auspicious year

has spread only fear!

Hear, hear

only time can heal.

The elusive Chronos…

he, alone, knows

how itchy is the nose.

The mask speaks

the skin’s so dry

bleach, wash, sanitize

don’t forget your eyes!

Did you order pies?

you better have some spies

if there is fever

you become a receiver.

The apocalypse, sci-fi

ghost towns, the future

Like in the movies

It’s almost quarantine

except it really is…

in Wuhan.

There’s no one around

no peace of mind to be found

Tell me, seer

all these folks

with all their jokes

were they to eat an iris

would it kill the coronavirus?

Wise poet, Su Shi

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During the Song dynasty (960-1279 AD), China experienced a flourishing period in arts, culture and poetry. The wise, multi-talented Su Shi, 蘇軾, (1037-1101 AD) was a poet, calligrapher, painter, writer and politician, who wrote many exquisite poems that deserve attention and close analysis. However, today I want to share with you a small excerpt from one of his articles, that contains the essence of Middle Ages Chinese wisdom on destiny and the infinite beauty of nature.

“In this universe everything has its rightful owner. If something does not belong to you then you shall not even have a bit of it. However, the fresh breeze over the rivers and the bright moon above the mountains are exceptions. If you can hear it, it is a sound for you. If you can see it, it is a sight for you. It never ends and it is never exhausted. It is the infinite treasure that nature has for both of us to enjoy.”