We are clichés.....

Someone told something that might actually be some piece of that common knowledge I failed to take in by then, that when we’re about 14 we’re the deepest &most lucid thinkers. A little fact that made me plunge into my own pool of memories & recall what I used to write when I was 14....and... Yes! I used to have it!

What is it that makes us grown-ups less lucid & deep but nevertheless more ... bullshit?!

Experience, some say! Well, I think that experience should only make us richer & ready to stand our grounds at all costs.

Fear? Fear of getting older? Could be....but this doesn’t apply to my case since I am quite young myself! Fear of the unknown? Are we the afraid to simply uncover the ugly truth?

...Which I guess leads me to clichés! My hypothesis is as follows: once we’re passed 14, and as we think more and more shallow, we end up in resuming ourselves to clichés!

I am in love...I’m a fool... (I am afraid I’ll get hurt.)

It’s not U, it’s me... (What the hell was I thinking when we got together?!)

I am too fat, I’m disgusting! (I eat like a cow!)

My boobs aren’t big enough! (I am insecure!)

I’m a woman, I’ve got my needs! (I am unable to do what it takes to satisfy my own needs)

I am an emotional failure! (I don’t feel shit for U!)

I’ll never love again! (Some idiot/bithc fucked up my mental and I still haven’t learn to sniff them liars)

...and so on! It’s a list of fixed sentences in the media that seems endless! And what’s worse, it’s a list of sentences that we use more frequently – as we grow old and complicated- as a disguise, to hide from the ugly truth lurking in the back of our minds.

...too bad that we can never run too far away from our own inner demons! And what’s worse, the only thing that we’re getting out of it all, is that we just go down the yellow brick road to the Emerald City of madness while, still smiling wittily from behind our fixed phrases.

Meanwhile, I go for the truth, keeping it simple, wondering at every simple thing that life brigs my way, letting life surprise me....

Joe Black and the white dress

      Today while I was watching Joe Black I remembered the day my best friend got married. I've known her for all my life, but that day while I was looking at her wearing that white dress, getting married to a man with whom she had had anything but a steady relationship(...and everytime they broke up she would come to me & tell me that it was for the last time), a weird thought popped up in my mind: Would that ever be me? Would I, dressed in white, undergo the same silly religious ceremony one day?
     Up to a certain age I considered that a part of' any adult's life. To my mind, marriage was as natural as the fact that my birthday comes once year, and as clear and certain as the night-day cycle. Of course, things changed once I realised I myself have become an adult sometime in the process of living.
     ....but going back to Joe Black, the next thing that came to my mind was the fact that while I can't tell whether I 'll get married, have children, live in a fancy house, get a promotion(or any of the things most people pursue), I can tell for sure that one day I'll die, too!
       Now, I'm not depressed and I'm not in a morbidly contemplative mood, but from where I'm standing, the only thing related to my life that I'm sure about is that I will die one day, near or far. It's death, rather than marriage, that's natural and clear! I, for one, am really curious about the way I'll die, 'cause I really think it's quite an experience and I'm already sorry I won't be able to write a blog about it! :))
       So, finally, why are some people afraid of death?

Postarea 1: Incantata de cunostinta

    Cred ca sunt nnnnnnnnnnnnn-a persoana care-si pune intrebarea asta:  de ce ne facem bloguri? sau ma rog, de ce isi fac oamenii bloguri in general?
     Eu una, recunosc, mi-am facut blog din nostalgie dupa mult regretatul Yahoo360. :( Acolo scriam si tot scriam si aveam nu mai stiu cate sute de friendshi cu care comunicam prin commenturi. Ce vremuri bune!  Si ar mai fi un motiv, pe care nu stiu cum sa-l sintetizez dar cuprinde singuratate pasagera, nevoia de comunicare, refularea, terapia, legatura cu propria tzeasta si tot asa....