Cand ploua, printesele se ascund. Isi ascund magia departe de lume. Isi lasa deoparte rochiile de bal, coroanele de aur si o zana buna care sa le preamareasca destinul fericit.
Ele nu mai cred in Feti-Frumosi. I-au lasat in poveste, cu calul lor alb cu tot. S-au saturat de dorinta lor obsesiva sa se bata cu toti zmeii, sa cucereasca toate taramurile, sa-si demonstreze pentru a mia oara barbatia. Le-au dat jos straiele de aur si au descoperit niste barbati obisnuiti, cu orgolii si frustrari si capacitatea de a gresi.
Iar ele s-au saturat de rochiile alea imense si incomode, de obligatii, de traditie, de obiceiuri bune si obedienta.
S-au dus sa munceasca.
Fumeaza.
Poarta pijamale.
Stau in pat, cu laptopul in brate, fumeaza, injura si scriu pe blog.
Un alt scenariu de zi cu zi. Peisajul se schimba, desi elementele sunt aceleasi..
Te uiti in oglina. Tii capul sus, caci asta esti. Privirea se intuneca. Caci asta esti…
Blandetea aia din privire apare rar. De ocazie, asa. Lasi pe fiecare sa vada in tine exact ce vrea. Nu-ti pasa. Confirmarile sunt efemere si overrated. Cei care conteaza n-au nevoie nici macar de o grimasa pe fata ta ca sa stie ceva. Nici de o alta privire. Nici de un alt zambet. Nici tu n-ai nevoie, for that matter.
Putine lucruri te mai misca. Prea rar te mai impresioneaza. Putine mai dor…
Cateva cicatrici doar. On the inside, so you can always remember…
Fighting is something they try to teach us every step of the way.
Fighting is something only the strong ones can do, no matter what.
God gives us only as much as we can carry.
The strong ones have harder moments, unlike the weak ones, only because they can make it.
Growing up doesn’t mean loosing something. It means keeping everything from the past, but gaining something new.
We are the legacy of our parents, and if we improve their gift, than all of our struggles are worthy.
We don’t fear people, situations or different times. We fear us. We have the power to decide our own road, our own faith, to improve the God given way.
And in order to be strong, be have to sometimes be weak. To sometimes fear. To sometimes run, in order to come back. In order to appreciate what we already have, the beautiful things.In order to make it right.
We are what we are.
The good, the bad, the brave, the coward, the beautiful, the ugly, the honest, the liar.
The unworthy, the righteous, the wise, the impulsive. Everything. Everything we do, everything we feel represents us.
Our inner demons can always be gone. Can always be forgotten. Can always be turned into angels.
“Vexation of spirit is a waste of time
Negative thinking, don’t you waste your thoughts
Verbal conflict is a waste of word
Physical conflict is a waste of flesh
People will always be who they want
And that’s what really makes the world go round
Unconditional love is scarce
(“Till shiloh I shall not forsake thee”)
Now and forever more
Forever more, forever more…”