Bucharest, my city

I love this completely upside down world we live in. 

Every day I pass by new wholes on the streets, but net to them, most of the times, there are new buildings rising up, whether for offices or for living. And no one seems to cross their minds that the problem is actually this: we are certainly sinking, the paradox is through the tall buildings we are helping speed up the sinking process. 

And there are also the street borders, constantly renewed, while the green spaces remain untrimmed and the wild plants growing from each old building left for no use. And the parks which are also new released or not cared for. We live in a world of contrasts which we digest daily with its ups and downs. 

Walking is also a challinge, cause we have borders but no pathway. But I love this city, I love it because I can take as many steps as I want without worrying no one is watching. I like it that when I get home, I have some eyes watching over me from an upper floor. I am glad even that a person from above is watching me, otherwise I would feel too close to the sky.

This is my city and I love it as it is. I am glad to have been born in this sand and dust crowded place. I am glad to have learned to beautify it with irony and sarcasm. Otherwise I would have definitely gotten sick... of it...

The Aspiring Innocence

The impact of aspirational was never trully evaluated or identified as a potential risk over the development of our society. 

We've always walked ahead in search of beauty, in association of new with a prosperous life. But a brief look back will make us understand and love more the power of traditional and old as heritage. If we realise that old can still have life, we will manage to still transmit the sustainability and perpetuation as two important life attributes. So we shouldn't wonder at the ephemerality and momentarity of each gesture. The "fast generation", as we should call those coming after us, will always be superficial and will rapidly forget of the impact of each event. 

But transmitting some attributes, distribution of a responsibility will manage to bring most back to "slow" the human kind.

And the moment in which the aspirational becomes adorable is a recent discovery in the lost look of a man in the traffic of a Bucharest mall. A man with poor clothes at the KFC order desk asks the cashier if they have something to drink. The cashier, a little bit surprised, told him they have Cola, Fanta, Sprite. The man verbally chose a Fanta and also excited took out his brand new credit card from his wallet to pay. He was so happy for the 5,9 lei spent via pos to the american giant that you could swear he had won the elections if you looked into his eyes. And the man was happy he could drink a Fanta in an aspirational environment paying with this new tool everybody uses. Most probably that smile and enthusiasm will stay for a long time in my memory. The lesson of life was a scary one: the exploitation of innocence to the aspirational shows us we fall often in that trap if we are already card users, delighted by the new "tool".

We are sure victims in front of advertising we embrace as a standard of life. 

For all the rest it sure is MasterCard.

Freedom - Edge of Democracy

I am missing the lovely careless vacation days, when the sun used to set on my happy feet, when the sun used to shine through the towel hanging in the window and when the sitting used to be protected by linens all the way to the seaside. And on top of that people used to sing. We had no idea what democracy looked like, we simply enjoyed the freedom of family. 
Nowadays we run away from family commitment and embrace the freedom of movement. We are free to cross borders, yet the border of our mind and soul is stronger than it used to be... 
I wonder if we realise that we're on the edge of Democracy and feeling the fresh breeze of democratic air. 
We are free to buy all the "beauty" of the west and we are free to judge what borders to cross or not. 
Enjoy the freedom and smell of it! 

Where thoughts collide

The two most important persons in my life are trying to build me different images for a dramatic situation. One of them is pretty practical and choosing to end a life than see it go through all the pain and suffering. The other one chooses to hope and fight for life. The most painful of all this situation is that the sweetest being in my life is suffering a great deal and I am the one in charge with her happiness and well being. 

I love the fact that from time to time I get the chance to see my parents be terribly profound and keep their parenting style in attitude. I wish they could keep that forever. But I guess somehow the lesson about life comes also with the sad truth that all life must come to an end. However this end as certain as it is, somehow scares us. Or the suffering is what kills us. Or the simple idea that we stop being a whole being. We know from start that we will be imputed of the life we so freely received it. And we never seem to get used to this fact. 

And the sad truth is that recently we are confronted more and more with the serious Cancer affection in various shapes. I wish I could declare war on this disease. But I cannot. I feel helpless in front of this thing eating us alive. 

Now it's my cat, since winter it's Smaranda (helpsmaranda.com), a few years back it was my grandma, and so on. However you put it, it's not the state of mind. It's clearly something around us. It's clearly all the food we are so easily and cheaply fed. 

And there is little known of what we seem to turn into an angry God called Cancer. His royal highness seems to have his own shrine... 

Little Big

I grew up surrounded by mature people. For me they were the big people. And I wanted to be just like them. I had no idea what that meant. I just knew they knew everything, they could do anything and there was nothing scaring them. Except the regime.

A few years ago, all grown up, I was asked what I wanted to become. And the answer shook my entire ground. Now I was big, I had nothing to fear, I have done a lot, but still I felt I haven't done much. And still I was big. Somehow I felt there was a lot more to do than the standards I had before. And to think there was actually nothing to be afraid of. And my only fear was that I would not do enough.

Now, I consider I am that big person. And it all stays in a different context. I ponder now not only my doings, but the magic my friends make come true. And they touch people's lives with the things they make. And this way, my new context lies in the generation that moves this world at present times. Quite proud to brag about being big.

I have to name here my friend who works for the biggest company in the world and small as she may be, she does something that moves the world.

I have to remember, my friend who is an architect. And with her ideas she changes the world aesthetically. Proud again for such company.

I cannot forget my artistic friend, who does everything to make the world better and who raises emotion.

And another good friend who works in a place where people are boasting with pragmatism and yet she moves this company through her charm and communication.

With all these friends, I have to aim to be big. In a society which sells lack of culture as a model, I am the proud friend of such people moving world with great heritage. And I stand up straight and say hello to whomever looks down on me because my values are bigger than their pity small hearts and minds.

Writing can change the world with a good speech. A good speech can free minds. Freedom comes from value and Freedom is what gives you the power to create, to move or to change. Freedom is what makes one Big.

Woman in Her 30s

I received as a gift this book from a friend of mine when turning 30 and I decided to open it and start reading it once again.

The story is about a father who tries to worn his little girl about mistaking her infatuation with love over an older man, a colonel. The father is fairly concerned with his daughter's  desire to marry him for his position and the impression he makes on the little girl. And in spite of her father's advice she decides to marry him. And the rest of the story should be read to understand what Balzac was trying to say. 

The main idea I got was that in our early years we are looking for models, for men who can be up there on a pedestal and who can guide us in our lives. These are stories very well put together. The guy on the horse was a colonel who has lived most of his life as a career man. Now he was looking for a wife to stay home and wait for him. 

The modern woman I believe is a lot more sophisticated. She wants to have her career and her life to be guided by her rules. It is very hard for the modern woman with a career to make up her mind about who is suitable for her to stand by for the rest of her life. By the time she reaches that point in her career she is self sufficient and he only needs to come in and feel in a soul whole. And he needs to understand that coffee can be made or just drunk, but it doesn't make a difference at the end of the day who made it and who drunk it. It matters that there is someone there in the morning to share the coffee with. And it matters that his arms hold you and tell you "Good night!" at the end of the battle. Somehow, the 30 year old woman now-a-days is the colonel who needs a sure thing when arriving home.