When they meet

We can't explain the things we don't understand, yet we sometimes pursue something that can give us the singularity that we need.

Autumn comes. The leaves start falling. Year after year. The leaves that once gave life to a plant, are slowly dacing towards the ground. Slowly dacing, towards the road. The leaves, they cover up the road.

But even though we can't see the road, we know it's there. The leaves. Green, magnificent. From a small sapling, to a tall tree, they all owe their existence to the singular leaf.

Do leaves fall on our roads, or are our roads in their way just to be paved by them? Just to be mysterious? Do our roads need a blanket to stay warm, or do they want to hide?

I don't know. I am no leaf, i am no tree. I am a stone.

But as far as i know, leaves burn and stones don't. Yet, we are made for one another.

There was this fire you see. This fire that burnt so bewilderingly, i felt at home. The fire, was my home

Where did this fire go? Now i know
Why did this fire mean so much to me? Now i know
Who was this fire? Why was it there? Now i know

Now i know, now i know what i feel.

This fire you see, this fire, burnt so bright. I was blind
The fire blinded me. I couldn't see
I could only feel

I could only feel the fire.

Why did this fire burn me? Now i know
Why did this fire harm me? Now i know


But then again, my roads were paved with leaves.
I couldn't see the road, where do i go now?

This is where i go.
The fire burnt me.
The fire burnt me right down to the ground
But the ground is where the leaves are
The ground is where my road is.

How could this fire burn me
But make me feel at home?
Make me feel warm?
Make me feel protected?

This fire i am talking about,
This fire, never really died.
The fire went out, but why are there embers? Why is it willing to live?
The fire burnt me, but healed me
The fire harmed me. but kept me alive!

Her fire was slowly left unnatended, harmed by the weather
Why did this rain harm my fire?
My fire harmed me, but no one can harm my fire
I am a stone.

You are my fire.

I see the leaves. I see the road.
What do you need? What do you want?
The storms are coming, i can see them
I see the storms, they want you

No.

Who are you, rain,
Who are youn, wind
Who do you think you are, to mess with my fire?
My fire burnt me, but kept me alive

Now I see... now i see the road
The leaves that once gave life, will give life again
The leaves that trapped me, the leaves that got me lost
Those are the leaves that will make you kill the frost!

They once gave life, now they will again
Your fire is burning, right in my brain

How does this happen
That once you did harm
I feed you leaves
You have your charm

The fire is burning, my road is so clear
Now i can see. Now i can feel. I know
I know, why you burnt me
And i know why you healed me

My roads are clear, my fire is burning

You are my fire. I am your stone
Come wind or water, what can they do?
I am the stone to surround you
I am the stone. The wind. The wind can't touch my fire


Never will someone, or should they dare
Touch my fire, i am the air
I am the air, that feeds this fire
So are the leaves, they are a choir
A symphony of color, a symbol for life
My fire is burning, i need a knife
To cut all the ropes, to make a way through
My fire will guide me
It burns just for you!


You are my fire, i am your stone
You burnt me, but kept me alive
But now we are one. We see the path, we see the road
We have the forest, to call our home


You shime so bright, you light up the place
I'll keep you alive, with my embrace!

Sexul în public - îndrumător

Tot mai multe stiri apar pe interneturi si pe demodatele, dar inca folositele ziare, despre indivizi din Timisoara, Arad, si nu numai (cu tot cu dovezi fotografice, obviously), despree oameni care fie fac sex in parcurile publice, ziua in amiaza mare, fie pe anumite strazi din Arad, fie la unu la care ii se ofera o felatie senzuala langa o biserica din Micalaca.

Si azi mergand pe strada, unu o pus-o pe una la perete, o trantit-o de zid asa, si o inceput pasiunea

Hai sa iti zic un lucru amu'. Si eu is om in floarea varstei, si eu am hormoni, si mie mi se scoala pula din minut in minut dorind o anume rasplata

Si eu, la randul meu, mi-am tras-o, in lift, in tren (si in buda, si langa buda, si in compartiment, ca is mai aventuros), am facut zaharos amor in autovehiculul personal, la marginea drumului, cu avariile puse, mi-am dat la laba in curtea unei cladiri anexate biserii, am facut tot ce se potrivea momentului.

Băăăi, calm your shit people. În secunda asta imi vine sa ma duc in fata primariei, sa chem toti oamenii, sa organizez o orgie cum n-a vazut tot Aradul, toata România, cat de mult ne place sa ne futem, vara, la aer curat, la iarba verde, pe beton incins in centrul orasului

Vreau sa fac cea mai dulce forma de sex oral, cu 2 degete in meandra si mai dulce, una in fund, sa se simta bine dânsa, pe peronul 1 a statiei de cale ferata Arad, pe scarile rulante ale statiei de metrou Parc Bazilescu, in mijlocul stadionului din Cluj.

Vreau sa fac dragoste, in aer liber, sa nu uite lumea ce inseamna sa fiu om. Exact asta vreau sa fac.

Life is a diode

It only goes one way.

A living, breathing forest. An eternal, everlasting, bewildering beauty.

Dear L. ,

I was a bolt of lightning. I was a searing hot ray. The forest amazed me, the forest inspired me. It was an invitiation.
I was a bolt of lightning. I set you ablaze. Why did i set you ablaze?
Can the forest forgive me?
I set you ablaze. I was...
Will the forest ever forgive me?
I was a lightning. But i did not come without a storm.
I was a lightning. But i came without thunder.
I was a storm. Now, it's raining.
I set you ablaze.
I am rain.
Will the forest forgive me?
I set fire to the forest.
I am rain.
But does the forest know, that i am raining?
I am raining, for the forest.
I want to become the forest.
I was lightning.
But does the forest know?
I set you ablaze, my dear forest.
I want to be like you
I ruined you, i ruined your beauty.
I ruined your leaves. I ruined your beauty
I am rain.

"I was lightning
I was a storm too
But i had no thunder
How could i warn you?"

I am the sun,
I couldn't see from the clouds,
What have i done to my forest?
How can i shine?

I became the moon, quiet
Where is my forest?
What have i done?

My dear forest, i wasn't a storm
I am the sun, how can we form
A heaven on earth, a place of wonder
My dear forest, i am no thunder

Seeing upon, the things i've done
Where is my forest, why are you gone?
It wasn't my lightning, it wasn't my storm
I am the sun, my rays need a home.

But even though, your trees are down
Your leaves burnt, but your seeds in the ground.
I am the sun, i will give life
My rays need a home, my rays like a knife
...cutting through the burnt ashes
Deep down in your soil
Let me give birth
To a new living home!

I am the sun, i wasn't the lightning
Your seeds can feel me
I am shining

Your leaves are sprouting
I heat up the ground
The water is rising
This is the sound

The sound of rain, not of a storm
I was not the lightning, but you can reborn
I am the sun, my heat you will take
A wonderful home, together we make!


Can the forest forgive me?

Plasa

Degetele mele, la tine în
Prismă
Îţi despart lumina
Îţi adun
Gemetele
Pe-un biblioraft
Erotic.

Cum dai de pizdă

Cum devii adult responsabil

Dar in schimb, astazi, ceva nou

Nu am mai scris de mult, dar acuma scriu sa comemorez si sa trec in arhiva un eveniment chiar deosebit de important din istoria tarii, tinerii se revolta si vor sa faca o schimbare.

Nu cred ca ii nevoie sa mentionez din ce cauza a pornit toata revolta asta, dar de dragul sa fie mentionat in aceste randuri, ii vorba de incidentul de la #Colectiv, unde au murit peste 30 de tineri, si peste o suta sunt la spital (aveti tv, aveti internet, nu intru in detalii, ca nu despre asta vreau sa vorbesc).

Dar ma, oameni buni, vis opariti la cap?

De atata (si amu incepe) fucking amar de timp, toti ma, da fucking toti ne plangem de cacatu din tara asta (in mare parte oameni ca mine, tineri), dar nu, stam linistiti la bere seara, ne culcam, ne dam o laba si ii bine.

Si voi, va plangeti, ca trebuie sa moara atatia semeni de-ai nostri sa facem ceva?

Stai asa o leaca, adica va plangeti de atata amar de vreme, si abia fucking acuma suntem in stare sa iesim pe strada? Abia dupa ce alti oameni si-or cules roadele (dupa zeci de ani de fertilitate roditoare), abia amu ma iesim in strada? Da nis intregi la cap?

Zi ma, nis intregi la cap? Deci ne plangem ca atatia mor, da abia acuma iesim in strada?


Romani, vis normali?



Clar, is anormal de mandru ca am reusit ce am reusit (nu intru in politica, din motive evidente). Da ma, am reusit! Am facut primul pas, am iesit pe strada si am schimbat ceva.

Dar de ce, ziceti ma de ce, abia acuma? Mi scarba dar din fericire in mare parte is profund si adanc, fericit de voi, de noi, care intr-un final facem ceva.

Evitati televiziunile, evitati oamenii care zic orice altceva decat ceea ce doriti. Acuma ii momentu sa introducem pula, in gura celor care trebe. Daca cineva zice ca nu ii bine ce facem, fute-i frate o teava zincata de tzol in mecla, sa simta ce trebe sa simta. Fute-i dintii, fute-i viata. Cam tarziu totul, dar chiar era momentul.

Nis tineri, dar nu nis prosti...

Istoria culinara redescoperita - Arad

   Traim in 2015 si mare parte a lumii nu cunoaste anumite informatii cheie din istoria grandioasa a romanilor. Astazi, vom incepe excursia culinara cu orasul meu natal, Arad.

   Preparatul culinar specific Aradului: C.A.M (carnat aplatizat de mistret)

Sigur, toata lumea cunoastea asta precum, chiar nu mai tin minte, am vazut ieri pe Facebook, dar ii neesential deoarece ii spune C.A.M., ii denumire de origine controlata, oricine nu crede asta sa se arunce in fantana, nu stiti nimic, sunteti prosti.

In mod traditional, mistretul de Arad se vaneaza cu un grup (denumit squad sau krew in trecut), prin 2 variante:
- in 1745, traditional se lega o grenada anti-tanc cu fir de canepa (ulterior banda izolatoare cu dungi galbene si verzi aranjate orizontal, dea-lungul benzii, paralele), se amorsa grenada respectiva, si se tragea in mistret
- in 1842, odata cu introducerea morilor electronice de porumb pentru faina si malai, grenada se arunca direct spre animal - revenim la mori imediat

Animalul sacrificat, se transporta in gospodarie, pe cale ferata, traditional intr-un vagon descoperit de carbuni, tras de un LDH clasa 80 modernizat la Faur.

Acuma incepe prepararea mistretului. Orice aradean avea in domicili moara pentru faina (nota: nu cea de decorticat porumb, revin). Animalul se introducea intre cele 2 pietre de moara, se condimenta cu azbest, si se pornea (aceasta moara isi primea puterea de la un dinala cu pale, asezat pe rau, care era invartit de apa).

In timpul in care pietrele de moara fragezeau mistretul, se adauga sulf aprins, care ii dadea aroma specifica preparatului. Acesta dura intre 4 si 5 saptamani sa ajunga la consistenta trraditionala.

La final, se scotea mistretul, acum preparat, si se chemau (foarte important de stiut), vecinii de la casele cu numar par sau impar in functie de ce zi era, dar invers, exemplu: daca astazi suntem in 5, chemam toti vecinii de la casele cu numar par.

Mistretul era asediat de catre vecini cu lance, topoare, grenazi militare de uz agricol si casnic, pana se transforma in pasta dorita, care era introdusa in mat (traditional, furtun de cauciuc fabricat la Copsa Mica).

Acuma ajungem la morile de porumb. In 1842, Aradul era singurul oras in lume unde toti locuitorii aveau o moara electronica care scotea semintele porcolaii de pe cocenele de porumb, si le transforma in malai. Si nu erau discriminari de rasa sau clasa politica, toata lumea avea o moara electrica cu motor trifazic fabricat la uzinele Astra de pe Calea Aurel Vlaicu. Da, cat timp restu lumii se razboia si dadeau galbeni la baronul local, noi aveam mori electrice.

Cand se consuma C.A.M., se introduce carnatul in sine in moara pentru porumb, dar nu inainte ca bunica si tata sa manufactureze o paine de casa, pe plita (sau sparhet), din faina de cartof (facuta la presa pneumatica de uz industrial din sopru), si se facea aceasta paine de 45-80kg, in functie de numarul de oameni care locuiau pe o raza de 280m. Painea preparata, se scobea cu utilajul de foraj petrolier (alt utilaj ce era in "arsenalul" fiecarui aradean, prin lege chiar!) si se gaurea.

Painea gaurita se punea sub moara electronica de porumb, si se introducea C.A.M.-ul in partea superioara, se trimitea SMS cu forogtafie atasata a preparatului la Uzina Aradeana de Electricitate Electronica, care dadeau acordul si porneau curentul.

C.A.M-ul era macinat si introdus in gaura din mijlocul painii, timp in care muzicienii locali cantau traditionalele cantece de moara, pe instrumente precum chitara hidraulica si cilindrul muzical din bronz.

In final se facea chef si se consuma. Pofta buna!