i’d rather keep my healthy looking skin and live longer
HOWEVER
what can I replace those nights of smoking on the balcony, staring out at the city skyline, listening to trip-hop, and being overwhelmed by yearning and melancholia now?
undeva prin 2005 avea frate'miu un Nokia N-gage si avea cateva piese de la Veritasaga plus trackul asta de La Familia, care pana acum a ramas piesa mea preferata de la ei
Salut,
Tata avea casete cu Iurie Sadovnic si le ascultam in masina cand faceam deplasari mai lungi. Tin minte ca era o melodie tare nice, unde Iurie Sadovnic recita poezia lui Grigore Vieru - Tu.
Nu mai gasesc melodia asta nicaieri, poate o mai are cineva in format digital?
Versurile:
Venii târziu acasă,
Să văd ce-i zice tu.
Luai puțin din masă,
Să văd ce-i zice tu.
Mi-a râs pe drum o fată,
Să văd ce-i zice tu.
Ne-am despărțit o dată,
Să văd ce-i zice tu.
Mă las la fund de mare,
Să văd ce-i zice tu.
Și ies cu pietre rare,
Să văd ce-i zice tu.
Sunt palid ca lămâiul,
Să văd ce-i zice tu.
Să mor aș vrea întâiul,
Să văd ce-i zice tu.
a friend took this picture of me last night and it reminded me of this aesthetic
I promise I didn’t bomb the building behind
tomorrow I am supposed to attend a wedding I really can't be arsed to go to, so I will keep it short:
I’ve been thinking about alienation for a while now, from a spiritual point of view.
Most days when I’m off, I go for walks along the river around London’s south bank, and I realise that most of these people are only here for a moment. This is probably the first and last time I will ever see these faces. Most of them are tourists, passing through the city the same way thoughts pass through your mind.
And I’m not sad, nor particularly happy. What I feel is harder to explain. It feels like I’m missing the ability to pass these emotions onto someone else without having to dissect them into words. I keep searching for a person who could look at me and immediately understand all these layers of emotional ambiguity without me having to explain every corner of it.
Someone who could emotionally mirror what I’m feeling.
Not even the loneliness itself, because solitude can honestly feel like a blessing sometimes. Some of the most peaceful moments of my life have happened alone. What hurts is how difficult it is to communicate these thoughts without sounding insane to most people. The second things becomes too introspective, too existential, too emotionally layered, people recoil from it. Most people are put off by the mere thought of peeling that emotional onion.
So what the fuck are we even looking for?
I think the past gives us a false sense of being anchored. Growing up, we feel like we belong somewhere by default, but adulthood slowly dissolves that illusion. We move countries, cities, identities, relationships, and eventually, even if we return “home,” it no longer exists in the same way. And maybe it never really existed the way we remember it.
Because home was never truly a geographical point in itself.
And once that feeling disappears, you spend years trying to recreate it through places, people, love, nostalgia, art, memory, or whatever the fuck.
But no matter where I go, I realise I will carry all of it with me anyway: the memories, conversations, heartbreaks, fleeting moments of love that felt eternal at the time. Genuine. None of it belongs to one place anymore. Neither do I.
Somewhere along the way, I became a citizen of the world.
picture: eastern european bus station; somewhere that felt like home for a while
had my camera with me and took some shots; everything is blurry, gritty and out of focus
was playing fwdslxsh - the fall ep while cruising through the city, and it felt like nothing else mattered
it felt like freedom