It's not about giving up.
It's about acceptance.

I just can't deal with the whole fairytale that everybody is promoting.
It's not about the bullshit really, or maybe it is, but it's more about being real with yourself and your own needs.
What do you need?

You need to be safe, happy and secure about your future.

And this is the truth.
The whole truth about life.

There's no mystery left.
You don't need to find out anything.

You can't rely on people when it comes to your own happiness..
You have to get it yourself, you have to know how to obtain it for yourself.

I was for a long time dependent on other people for my own happiness..and that's just stupid!
Plain stupid.

You need to know what makes you happy and do it yourself.
It's actually easy when you get then hang of it.

Took me several years to realize that.
But I think that now I know.

And don't be scared to say no.
Don't be scared to stand up for yourself, be selfish when you need to...otherwise who's gonna give a shit about you if not yourself???

Be selfish and real when you have to.
Read between the lines and don't give up.
Accept what you can do...
And the things you cannot do.

Simple as that.

Oh and don't forget to smile!
It's healthy and it's nurturing your soul.

Be happy for heaven's sake!
Just be happy.
That simple!

fuck you prince charming..

You wonder what's the deal with this love.
You had patience, you were nice and played by the rules, and you even fucked the rules and played everything by your own soul and music.
And then nothing.
Just some guys came along, but none had the things you need in a guy.
Your guy.
And you know what kind of guy you need, it's not necessary the guy is more of the connection.
I know what kind of connection I need to feel at home with that man, my man.
And couldn't find him, my man.
And I have no patience left, I have zero patience to play the rules or no rules.
I just want to run into the world and scream at it..."Where the fuck are you?"
Caz everybody is telling me you are there and you will come and you're not.
And I'm confused and disappointed.
of you.
of all of you.

bombe nucleare si feti frumosi

Despre cum te fortezi sa nu tipi in gura mare ca toti sunt niste prosti. Pai, suna copilareste, dar gandeste-te nu ai avut momente in are ai fost atat de frustrat de toti si toate incat ai vrea sa ai la indemana cea mai puternica si vanjoasa bomba nucleara? Nu ai fost niciodatata atat de dezamagit de tine si de toate fiintele bipede din viata ta incat sa vrei sa-i stergi acum cum stergi o linie de creion dintr-un desen aproape perfect? Nu? Inseamna ca nu ai suflet...sau poate esti vreun fel de sfant. Pentru ca toti, absolut toti am avut momentele astea, in care am avut atat de multa ura si frustrare adunata incat am vrea sa sfarsim cu totii in flacari si rock'n'roll. Dar revenind la situatia mea, nu, nu am bombe nucleare, nu am nici macar o grenada amarata asa incat imi scot dracii duhovnicesti prin scris. Terapie prin scris o numesc. Si nu stiu inca daca e buna la ceva, dar cu siguranta ma face sa nu ma gandesc sa caut unde tin chibriturile colegii mei de apartament. Ei cu siguranta nu ar aprecia sa le arunc in aer pretioasele bunuri adunate cu sarg si spor in scurta perioada din paradisul tropical. De ce as vrea sa urlu ca toti sunt niste prosti? Pai e simplu. Atat de multe umbrelute roz, cocktailuri si soare tampeste. Oamenii nu vin aici pentru ca este o mecca culturala, vin aici pentru ca este o insula tropicala. Si ce faci aici? Te prajesti frumos la soare, iti spui politeturi, zambesti fals tipului care tocmai ti-a dat cu mingea de volei in cap si speri ca o sa se intoarca pentru ca esti ataaat de plictisitaaa. Si cam atat.. Ce te-a facut sa ajungi atat de disperata? Drama care se numeste dragoste neimpartasita. Stii uneori ai impresia ca esti acolo, ca esti pe acelasi nivel cu tipul de langa tine, pentru ca radeti la aceleasi glume, va place sa va sarutati, nivelul de saliva e rezonabil, nimeni nu scuipa pe celalalt adica aveti chimie si in capul tau iti spui "Evrika"! Pe el il vreau. "Evrika" my ass. Penru ca baiatul...e doar un baietel. E un pizdos fricos care nu stie inca ce vrea de la viata, dar te-ar mai vrea de doua trei ori inainte sa-ti spuna by bye. Si pentru ca ai fost crescuta intr-o familie cu ego-uri mari si orgolii pe masura ii dai tu prima papucii. Si te doare. ca ti-a fost cica si prieten. Si astepi dupa un telefon, desi i-ai zis chiar tu clar ca nu vrei sa-l mai vezi, auzi cum respira si ca ai vrea sa moara in chinuri. Astepti. Si nu vine. Acel nenorocit de telefon nu vine nici cand te-ai operat, cand ti-au scurmat toti doctorii in locurile cele mai intime. Nenorocitul nu suna! Si esti plina de frustrare si disperare si dezamagire incat ai vrea ca toti sa dispara intr-o bataie de geana. Si ce poti sa faci? Sa lasi demonii sa iasa? Nu te poti misca. Filmele nu mai sunt o optiune, le-ai vazut pe toate si te doare capul doar cand te gandesti la toate comediile siropoase, extra mega piperate cu saruturi pasionale, coafuri perfecte si happy enduri pe masura. Incat ai vrea sa fugi la buda si sa vomiti tot romantismul din tine. Problema e ca nu poti sa fugi. Esti tintuita la pat. Asa ca ce faci sa scoti afara toata fierea, tot amarul si tot chinul pe care un putoi nenorocit a reusit sa ti-l aduca? Scrii. Si speri si speri sa iasa prin porii tai toata frustrea pe care nu ai impartasit-o cu nimeni, jenata fiind sa le spui ca ai crezut in prostia ta ca el e! Ai crezut ca el e! Lasa-ma sa te lamuresc...EL! ADICA THE ONE. De cacat! Si acum esti singura, si transpiri toata dezamagirea, frustrearea si prostia pe care acum trebuie sa ti-o asumi cumva. Pentru ca te consideri desteapta. Ai chiar enuntat-o o data sau de doua ori cu glas tare...ca esti desteapta. Nah! bucurie! Pe asta nu ai vazut-o venind spre tine. Asa ca acum ce faci? Inghiti in sec, toata bucuria, evrika-ul tau de cacat si scrii despre bombe nucleare, feti frumosi si dezastre. Asa se nasc teroristii. Bun. Acum pot sa ma duc sa mi fac un cocktail cu umbreluta roz, sa deschid televizorul si sa-mi las creirii spalati de reclamele la crema de fata, ca hei daca ai pielea buna atunci sigur o sa-ti gasesti pe cineva perfect! Perfect iti zic!

men and their perfect women

Single men after the age of 30 become a little bit like women, they don't have the biological clock, but they need THE RELATIONSHIP. And not any relationship. Like their car, or apartment they need the perfect one, the perfect women. So they start looking and looking and sometimes they do meet somebody and it's looking like they made it. She has the perfect smile, attitude, clothes or breasts so they need her. They want her! So they go for it. And after a while they realize this woman is not quite perfect. So they teach her to smile, talk and they don't actually pay attention to her too much. They do train her perfectly! The sad part in this story is that they don't actually see HER. Because she is already perfect, perfect for somebody else! I heard that beauty and perfection are actually made from tiny, tiny imperfections that put all together form this extraordinary moments and people. So instead of looking for this film image of the perfect women, take a good look at the women beside you, open your eyes real good and stop breathing for a second. Maybe you will be amazed, or maybe not, the truth is for sure you will have THE REAL image of the women beside you. And who knows maybe you'll fall for this real woman with flaws and broken smiles.

I never felt free enough to act like a lunatic. And something changed, and I became a totally different person. I shouted, yelled and I said whatever was in my mind to the entire world. I thought for a second that I'm changing. That I'm this amazing person and I kinda liked it. But all the feelings and emotions just got the best of me. All that freedom was just an illusion. I just end up hurting myself and on the way some others. I kinda need some balance. That relationship damaged me. Made me wanna shout and scream and yell because I was sooo quite for sooo looong. And now I need to know when to shout and scream and when to be quiet. Nobody will teach you shit. All the lessons you have to learn by yourself. The thing is I never let myself be wrong and do mistakes. I was too scared to mess things up. Sometimes you have to do the worse of you. Just to remind yourself how good you can become. the end. ?

about one darling idiot.

I don't know why I still keep all of my darling idiots in my life. Maybe because they are a constant reminder of what I had to learn. Maybe it's just a healing process, that I apply to myself every time something like that happen. Point is my facebook is full of them. My darlings idiots. Don't get me wrong I still feel some kind of affection towards them. Because in the end I was the one breaking up with them. They weren't mine to keep. I wasn't theirs to be. Point blank I wanna have just one idiot in my list. Just one darling idiot. please?

I'm 26 and not afraid to show it!

sunt bine. am ajuns in acel punct in care totul se rezolva. in care am invatat ca daca ignor ori asimilez si mai invat ceva din tot ce se intampla devin mai inteleapta si mai calma. mai am rabufniri de adolescenta rebela, dar ma consolez cu faptul ca stiu sa ma iau frumos de-o aripa si sa-mi dau acel atat de necesar sut in fund. Sunt dura cu mine. Si am asteptari mari si uneori nu stiu sa ma iubesc indeajuns incat sa-mi fie mie bine, dar exersez in oglinda si sunt mandra sa spun ca imi iese. am douazeci si sase de ani si inca invat rolul de om mare. sunt pe the right path. si as vrea sa las toate dezamagirile, depresiile si zilele acelea mohorate undeva in tenebrele trecutului. pentru ca eu cea de acum..are si am atat de multe de facut! si imi trebuie doar rabdare si timp si voi ajunge in acel punct al vietii mele in care voi avea parte doar de zambete si multa, multa, gretos de multa fericire. pentru ca merit. si pentru ca asta imi doresc. asa ca La multi ani frumosi mie! si la naiba cu toti si toate! hai noroc mie! :D