duminică, 30 mai 2010


E.M.Forster, Aspects of the Novel:

"When human beings love they try to get something. They also try to give something, and this double aim makes love more complicated than food or sleep. It is selfish and altruistic at the same time, and no amount of specialization in one direction quite atrophies the other. How much time does love take? This question sounds gross but it bears on our present inquiry. Sleep takes about eight hours out of twenty-our, food about two more. Shall we put down love for another two?"

foto: http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=§ion=&q=love#/dusi36

miercuri, 19 mai 2010

marți, 18 mai 2010

yearning for a breath of fresh air

yearning for fresh air... i want this year to be over. as soon as possible. too much tiredness and angriness. too many fights and words/ideas/feelings that are lost for ever in the vortex of time. so many things to do, so many responsibilities and no helping hand. too much yellow. too many people losing their personality, their individuality; and there is nothing worse than one's lost of identity. feelings of alienation, frustration, nothingness, sadness. and, above all, too much lack of respect.

fresh air comes in different shapes and colours. and that's the beauty of it. yearning for green hills and clear water coming from behind these stormy clouds. yearning for autumn and for the chilly, safe and trustworthy wind. yearning for orange, green, blue, red, purple. yearning for 'I'; for the one i used to be before all this.

joi, 6 mai 2010


ce ramine dupa ce citim o carte?!

ramin fluturii. nu mai ramine actiunea, nu mai ramin detaliile, nu mai ramin toate personajele. dar ramine o idee, un sentiment, o stare.

partea proasta, uneori, e ca tind sa asociez o carte cu starea de spirit pe care am avut-o atunci cind am citit-o. de ex, cind descoperit-o prima data pe Virginia Woolf, cu Mrs. Dalloway (printr-a 11-a), am citit cartea la Asachi, la sala de lectura. mai eram cu cineva, era o singura carte, asa ca a trebuit sa citim impreuna: ritm diferit, caldura mare, o liniste care te adormea imediat, stat pe scaun ore bune + cartea era in romana, iar Woolf e Woolf doar in engleza. dupa un weekend apasator si cu amintirea unei lecturi chinuite, imi placuse ideea cartii. dar cam atit. am redescoperit-o dupa citiva ani. de data asta erau alte coordonate: liniste, aer liber, cafeluta, tigara mentolata si lucy in brate. ah, am citit-o in engleza. dupa Mrs. Dalloway au urmat altele, The Waves placindu-mi cel mai mult. si mi-a placut atit de mult incit am decis sa imi fac licenta pe Woolf. iar acum, cu ajutorul Muzei si cu ceva absente la facultate, sper sa o termin in pace.

un alt exemplu ar fi Sarpele, ca tot am fost atit de categorica in alte 'ginduri'. insotita de o prezentare dezastruoasa de seminar (dezastruoasa, as indrazni, nu din vina mea, ci pt ca n-am fost lasata sa ma desfasor, asta dupa ce am pierdut ore intregi sa gasesc o abordare cit mai originala), cartea m-a dezamagit. si m-am descarcat pe Eliade. saracul Eliade! insa nu e o situatie fara scapare. mereu am considerat ca, poate mai mult decit oamenii, o carte merita o a doua sansa.

[foto: http://sophie0305.deviantart.com/art/Book-119685604]