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is it fair
when lives are stolen everyday
and lovers disappear on hospital beds
to wish i could give mine away
to somebody who would want it more than me?

I remembered how, when I was a child, whenever I felt fear, the adults were there to take it away. Mom and dad always seemed to me these extremely powerful entities, giants with superpowers that could heal any kind of pain. I used to feel so sure that they had the authority and the means to stop anything bad from touching me.

But then, growing into adulthood, I learnt that they actually had no idea what to do when I felt bad. They felt just as panicked as me, without any means to fight their own fears, let alone mine. Now the world seems so fragile, what I try to build, the life I know is so quick to disintegrate in case of sickness or death or wars or whatever. I wake up sometimes at night from a bad dream, breathing heavily and with my heart beating so fast it could just make my ribs explode. Then, the only thing I can feel is despair and fear and I try my best to grab onto something or someone that could comfort me. If you’re lucky, you might have a lover next to you to hold onto, but then… What about the fear that they might just disappear as well?

When you get older, do you just get used to the feeling? You stop thinking about it and take everything in without complaint? If it’s so, I wish I could grow older faster. But even old people seem just as scared as everyone.

in the best of all possible worlds, god would have already made Totoro appear at the top of the walnut tree guarding our helpless neighborhood. his face would spread to a grin and I would smile. in the best of all possible worlds, my wizard friends would have torn out my window bars and take me far away from my room on a badass broomstick. in that world I could now hop on a horse and wander tirelessly through endless woods to long gone cities and towns. any child that's ever seen an animation, read a story or played a video game can name you a better world, can imagine a better world than god created. and suffering is not even the problem here, but the lack of magic. I feel helpless against magic and these days just make everything feel too damn real...

Is it really always this quiet? It's the first day of Easter and usually people do stay at home and sleep longer, or just relax. But today, there was no sign of human interaction. Veeery quiet, no children screaming at the playground or neighbours catching up on gossip, just some dogs taking their owners out for a walk.

I believe this period of time is making me yearn for even the unpleasant things from my normal life. Today I saw the comments on a picture on Instagram, where people would say they longed for nights of going out, getting drunk and dancing. Some girl commented she misses losing her phone, that made me a little sad. But I smiled. Because I was recalling my blackout nights, filled with memories of a lost mind.

Never going to forgive myself for making my body frail, for all those sleepless nights and bad things I ingested. But, honestly, I miss it and I would sooo want to dance in a crowd of happy people right now. Just dance, and smile a lot and sing the lyrics, let my problems slip away. That energy is unique and I wish we're at least close to planning that in the future.

Those people who are born in one place, grow up there, fall in love, make friends, get married, make children, find jobs, grow old and die, all in the same place, same town, village. I always kind of admired and maybe just a bit envied them.

I just couldn’t wait to leave my hometown and go to university, to breath a different air and create a different life for myself. When the time came to leave, I cried like crazy and only now I understand why. I think I wished I never had to leave, I wished I could’ve been content with that life and live in peace together with my family forever. However, once I left, I never wished to go back again, yet happiness never really came after that. Three years later, the air in the new town became too suffocating and I felt, again, that I HAD to change places, only this time, when I left, I felt no sadness.

Then I changed countries. And it’s wonderful. I feel alive. I love the people, the roads, the houses, the foxes that cross my path from time to time, the trees, even the huge lines at the supermarkets, the person that I’m turning into here. But I can slowly feel the longing for a new city taking shape inside my heart. I long to walk on crowded streets in a big, big city, with huge buildings and skyscrapers and loud enough to make me unable to concentrate on my thoughts. There I could get lost easily and walk, walk, walk until I finally find that place where I could settle. And become one of those people that now, I know, I envy so much.

Today was my father’s birthday. I wanted him to have a good one. Not everyday you get to turn 50. But instead of cake and a night out, we got a full afternoon of Breaking Bad. How ironic. Walter White turns 50 at the beginning of the show too. Happy 50 in pandemic days, Dad. Just hope you don’t end up like Walt. I love you.

I keep on thinking about the people who valued me in middle-school. At that time, I thought I did not deserve it. They surely were exaggerating.

I then switched to highschool and things changed. Because I was in a more competitive environment, maybe I just got lost in the crowd. It might be possible that this lack of encouragement made me keep on hold and not really try to stand out. Because there were others better than me. Because I switched from 9 to 6 at maths. Because I had to cheat on every informatics test. And while I was doing so, there were two 10 kids in the class and about a half better than me. But, hey, maybe I should have chosen literature.

Competition is supposed to trigger you to do better, right? Well, yes, I tried. I think I've managed to get to a 7/8 at maths. The stress and the fear worked and I did better. But, I'm telling you, the first appreciation gesture that comes to my mind from those times is when a colleague met one of my teachers from middle-school who remembered me and told my friend that I was good. I was good. I will never forget that.

Times went by and college arrived. One person standing in front of 100. The distance gap between me and my teachers is bigger than ever. The courses where we are just at a 1:10 ratio are again driven by the fear of learning and not be surprised by an unpredicted question (that usually arrives).

I believe it's part due to the structure of things, part due to me, myself and I. I became entangled in the fight of doing well and driven by the fear of repercussions. Maybe as I am growing up I should leave my heart open to the people who are teaching me, and not put barriers such as turning my camera off in an online course because I don't want to be asked something. Maybe it is hard for teachers, too, to try and connect to people that become more distanced as they grow up.

I believe the force of a teacher is huge. Even now I realize I am deep inside just a kid that needs appreciation. The encouragement, the compliments, the support of a teacher can make children able to climb high mountains.

I just saw Lost in Translation, one of my favorites. It gave me a nostalgic sentiment. I keep thinking that you are not that far away. I’m thinking I could be there in a day. My efforts will still count if you won’t be doing the same for me? Sometimes, I wonder if you still remember me. I remember you. You are hard to find. I’m still watching for the signs; I’m waiting for all of this to be over. I wonder if you live there still; I kind of hope you always will. I can see that orange sunset, I can smell that rainy weather, I can feel that heartfelt feeling. No more gasping for a breath, I stay calm with a smile on my face. Tired of reasons I can’t explain. I’m always thinking: will I find you in a day or you’re too many light years away? Now I have only two emotions: fear of living and desire for wandering. I’m giving up on finding excuses or taking the quick way out. It is easy to live inside yourself, harder to live under the sun.

I’ve been so used to living this way that I can’t seem to break out of the glass. I feel weightless by not taking a step outside. There is no such thing as a good way or wrong way of feeling, but I’ve never been good at expressing myself, neither my emotions. Is it time to leave or is it time to think? Is it time to stay or you will never be here in a day? It’s getting dark and I still look at my reflection.

Very nostalgic these days. Last night, I was alone at home and I started thinking about the days in high-school, when I would stay up all night in this exact room, with my cat and my fairy lights and having stupid conversations about everything with dear friends on Facebook. We hated that time, always wanted to be out of school faster and do something else with our lives and look at us now: some of us at our parents' house, right where it started. We work on our laptops all day - like when we had those never ending piles of homework and projects back then - and stay awake on the Internet looking at all kinds of weird things and having conversations online. Just like then, we dread the time spent in the house, we want to go out, meet new people, learn new things. I think some of us travelled back in time and found the child we were. We just got to find a way to get along now (like Florence Welch said in a song I've been listening to recently). And that means everything in our lives is precious and we'll find out soon enough that we miss even the bad memories. Or we just thought they were bad, at the time. Who would have known?

I am grateful for this period, to be sincere, because, since I have left my hometown six years ago, I couldn’t visit my family as much as I wanted or as much as they wanted. I would always come home for a few days, then leaving, excusing myself, saying I have important work to do. Every time, my mother would look at me, trying not to cry, begging me with her eyes to stay more or come back home more often.

And, every time, this breaks my heart, because I have memories that make me grateful and immensely sad. One time, I remember, when I was 5 years old, I got a terrible flu. My mother had to go to work, but I begged her to stay. She couldn’t. But she promised me to come back at one o’ clock. All that day, I was counting seconds, waiting for her. At exactly one o’ clock, I heard the door, my mother was back. She kept her promise.

One or two years later, when I was 7 years old, I remember being in our car, my mother, my little brother and me. We were very happy together, talking and laughing, coming back from town. Suddenly, my mother became serious and said: I have to enjoy these years with you, someday you will leave and I will be alone. And I made a promise: No, mother, we will stay with you forever, we will never leave you.

I broke that promise. I abandoned her.

These commercials are so annoying. We’re all together in this, alone together, stay safe, imagine, in these uncertain times, buy… Please, don’t. I can’t watch tv anymore because of those commercials with Corona mentioned at the end of them. They’re like: Oh, such a difficult time. We need to be careful. By the way, buy this new car with us and get 12 months interest free. Celebrities who sing in their super big mansions are the worst. It’s a blessing I can still watch movies on my laptop, otherwise I would have gone crazy by now.

Is anyone else relieved we don’t have the pressure to go out and spend money? Or it’s only me? I consider myself lucky, you know. I still have my part-time job. I can work from home. I maintain the same income I had prior to the pandemic. But you know, nowadays, I can save more money just because I don’t go out. And it’s amazing. I can finally save some money to go to that exotic place when it’s all over. And the best part of it? I still talk to my friends. We’re having videocalls where we basically show our rooms and the cool stuff we have in here. When all of this is over, I hope I won’t blow out my savings too fast. I keep saying to myself: Why couldn’t I save this much before?. And then I remember. Clothes, fastfood, makeup, coffee, a snack from Mega, a short trip to Sephora. Thank God I don’t like to buy things online.

You know, I’m glad I had my birthday party right before the quarantine. I remember that day fondly. We didn’t took any photos, but my memories are clear. We went to the movies. That was the last time I ate nachos and popcorn. The last celebration with my friends. I remember being worried that my friends would not come. But I was wrong. My friends are more carefree than me and I was the only one who worried about that. I didn’t have cake, but those memories are sweet enough for me. Maybe we will manage to go and see another movie this year. Or maybe not. Who knows?

If you turn on the tv, all you’ll hear is Corona. People are dying. Grandparents can’t see their grandkids. Online classes and how much they suck. Essential workers. But you know what else is killing people? The climate change. It’s happening, and yet people don’t talk about it. Or they don’t do it anymore. When I was a child, I used to play in the snow during the winter days. But this year there was no snow. The year before was the same. They say this is one of the hottest summers in history. Extreme droughts are happening all over the country. Damn our brain, which puts more emphasis on a small loss that is happening now, rather than a large loss that will happen later. But at least the smog in most cities subsided or greatly reduced, and the carbon emissions are down internationally. Maybe this pandemic is just a symptom of climate change. Maybe it’s trying to teach us something, but I guess we don’t want to listen.

We were supposed to go to Istanbul at the end of March. That was the gift from my boyfriend for my birthday. I’ve been waiting for a holiday for so long, it broke my heart to cancel everything. I had high hopes for the summer. The Greek islands, the Mediterranean sea, the hot summer and maybe the Cretan winds to entertain us. It would’ve been a blessing. But now, I can only dream of a holiday in the countryside. Or maybe we will be able to go to the Black Sea. A girl can only dream, huh?

I left Bucharest and went to the mountains. Somewhere, in a small village, some friends have a house that they don’t use too often. After six weeks of isolation in the city, it felt like the perfect moment to leave for some fresh air. But this is more than a vacation house.

It was 2003 when I first laid foot in this house. At that moment, I came here with my girlfriend at that moment to visit her grandparents in their summer house in the mountains. She kept telling me about this magic place in the mountains for more than a year, so, that summer, after finishing high school, we came here for a couple of days. I already knew her grandparents so there was a familiar vibe in the air. She showed me the house, the flowers, the surroundings, the hills and the mountains. Everything and everyone had a story. I found that extraordinary. Until that moment, I had never paid attention to the history of something or someone and that summer I was amazed by the attention given to every living thing in this courtyard.

At some point, I learned most of the stories that I had heard here and began telling them to my parent who later had the opportunity to come here and befriend the owners of this beautiful place. It was then that I understood the importance of every story and the beauty that resides in each one.

Today wasn’t a good day. I slept almost all day, not doing that much. I didn’t feel the need to talk to someone or go out, even if it was at the supermarket. Felt nothing and did nothing, a terrible state of mind. I couldn’t write, edit or work and every time I’ve tried to edit something I hated it. I couldn’t be productive, creative or something, anything. I’m not even funny anymore. I’m going to sleep now, it’s 6 a.m. once again. I can hear the birds chirping. Maybe in a few hours it will be better. Good night.

It’s already that hour of the day when the sunset doesn’t belong to me anymore, the sun is slowly, slowly getting ready for sleep. And I feel like I’ve lost everything for the day. Everyday I plan to do activities that don’t involve screens, as long as I can benefit from the natural light. I keep telling myself lies. I find myself between the lines I’ve read and realize it’s been 15 minutes since I’m talking to somebody or I’m getting lost in posts. Some days, procrastination becomes the biggest enemy. I can notice its presence, then I scold myself, but I don’t stop. I reached the conclusion that it comes from lack of motivation, which comes from anxiety. I don't know the concrete sources. Sometimes I feel anxious even about myself, if such a thing is possible. I associate it with fear. Mostly, the fear of failure, because I’m the one who judges myself the most. But guess what? No matter what I do, I judge myself and I have fears. I still struggle with judging myself, maybe I’ll talk about it too.

The practice in which everybody’s been rediscovering themselves lately, the self-knowledge one, it’s not such a novelty to me. Ever since I was a child, I learnt to enjoy the time spent by myself. I remember those hot days in which it was too early for kids to come out and play, this or they were on vacation. The whole neighborhood was quiet. It felt as if it were mine and that’s it. Sometimes I would go out in the mornings too, to enjoy the sun. But at the same time I was excited about nightfall, because along with it came the bustle in the neighborhood. Most people went out to enjoy the air, either while playing a game or having a conversation.

We would stay out for hours, until almost midnight and we would wait for our parents to call us from the window, in a more or less cold voice, because they had also lost the notion of time while finishing the chores around the house. Due to my young age, I obtained two things that influenced my adventure, namely, the trust that my parents offered me and the humans addiction.

Humans addiction. You could argue that it sounds disturbing but also that we all are, in fact, addicted to each other. Because, up to a certain amount, we all are, regardless of the perspective.

At least I confirmed to myself that I am. I used to constantly surround myself with people, until I got to the point where I no longer had control over the desire to keep in touch with them, and I realized this relatively recently.

I was thinking about defining moments in my life, trying to follow back the thread of my life. There are many of them, but the first that came to mind right now was one from high-school, one that made me very self-aware. I was in the second year, an aspiring film director, watching anime and films every day, dreaming about my future. One day, I found out about a film contest, having the task to create a short film about human rights and freedom, I think. So I took my handicam and I began filming with my brother. It was a challenging process, but I learned how to edit and I delivered it in time.

A few days later, my art teacher came to me, gave me a diploma and said I took the first place. You can’t imagine how glad I was, it was that sign in life that confirmed that you belong to that path, that gives you confidence to try harder, to follow your dreams, I am sure you had one of those moments, too. My teacher saw me smiling, looked straight into my eyes and said: You won the first place. But this doesn’t mean you’re good. You were the only participant. Then, he left. I was standing there, feeling like the entire world collapsed on me. I was unable to think, say, do anything.

Later in life, I was really thankful for that moment. It was hard, but it taught me to always strive for the best, to never think you are good enough.

They say we should find happiness.

They say we should find peace.

Nowadays, this pandemic situation gives you the right moment to find yourself, to enjoy time on your own, to make the best introspection you procrastinated lately. But today I just allow myself to feel miserable. Just my first Easter alone.

a few years ago my roommate was a girl who had grown to hate me but we were stuck together in our dorm room for the rest of the school year

one time she told me my sighs were too loud

stop doing that, she said

or maybe she didn't, i don't remember it very well

she hated my sighs and i hated how loudly she would laugh at her favourite shows

i wanted my existence to be as inconspicuous as possible

she was shoving hers into my face

I miss being free. I want to wander, to discover, to walk until I can’t anymore. I want to be on the top of the world again, as on a mountain, and to see small villages captured by the nature who’s claiming its territories. I want to admire new places, to learn something new. Anything!

The consequences of the COVID-19 pandemic are bitter. They are the most bitter for those infected or for those with an infected family member. But after them? Us, high school seniors, are a sacrificed generation. We are not having a ceremony that marks the end of these beautiful years anymore. No party. No last-time-skipping-class. Everything other generations had has been taken from us. Also, what really sucks is the uncertainty we get from the Minister of Education. We were supposed to take the final exams in August. For 2 months, everybody got that idea and most of the teenagers, like me, stopped studying as much and lost their rhythm. After 2 months, we get the news: the exams are now re-scheduled in June. That was big news, really got me panicking. But at least now we know something for sure, right? No. We don't.

I miss touching you.

I know I shouldn’t, but here I am,
missing you and refusing to acknowledge this.

All of them are getting together.
But we won’t. And it makes me so sad.

I’m going back to memories,
when everything was marvelous.

I hope everything turns out fine in the end. I was reminiscing about times in the past today. I remembered the good days full of sun and fun, how I travelled the world before there was a ban on travelling. I liked it very much, I felt like I lived. Maybe I am living right now as well, it just doesn’t feel so alive. I am thinking of where I want to go from now on and I pray to God that I’ll be able to do it someday, even though it doesn’t feel like it will happen soon. It’s ok, though, I can still live with my happy memories and, who knows, maybe I’ll be able to make some new ones even in this dull atmosphere. Cheers to times of fun I used to have!