Reaper

The music industry nowadays is not healthy enough to receive such unbelievable blows. Don't we already have the one they call Justin Bieber? Why would we need to suffer some more?

Ok, but let's dive into the "song" (quotation marks are not required, but always welcomed). As an intro we get some kind of calendar where each day is ripping off the title of a song, from "It's a manic Monday" to "Friday, I'm in love" accompanied by Ooh-ooh-ooh and Yeah-ah-ah. Let me tell you: these are the best lyrics you'll hear in this "song".

Next a girl with one wicked hairdo wakes up at 7 am. Thru out this review I'll be assuming this is Rebecca Black. My problem with this whole scenario is that I've seen people pumped up on speed before, but they never wake up like that in the morning (that I know of). I mean this girl can comb her hair in an instant, go downstairs by apparently teleporting and eat her breakfast when no one can see her. At least she has the decency to catch us up with what we've missed.

She even arrives at the bus stop before even saying it. How is that even possible? Unless she's a mutant with superpowers... which could also explain the inadequately high views count on her "video". But then she sees her friends who woke up so early that they actually had the time to steal a convertible and now they're kickin' it like pimps. Rebecca decides to tag along as a fifth wheel, but not before we encounter one of the more complex problems of teen-hood: should she stay in the front or in the back? Bitch, you're thirteen! Get in the back and put your seat belt on or, like the Great One would say, "know your role and shut your mouth".

Up until now all things have been decent, carjacking aside, but the chorus ... oh my, the chorus. I've never seen a female so excited about getting down. No wonder everyone is looking forward to the weekend if they see a teenager happy about giving blowjobs while also following a strict timetable (because sucking dudes on a Wednesday gives a bad example to other girls listening to this).

After a whole exciting day of driving the girls get rid of the Justin Bieber look-a-likes, dress up as 2 dollar skanks and go cruisin' some more on the highway ... which sadly looks like a very low budget studio. While aimlessly driving in place, the girls sing about "Fun, fun, think about fun / You know what it is". Yes, dear. We all know what it is. We heard the chorus. Now when do we get to see it?

The teasing continues some more of that stupid callendar. Apparently she is so stoned that she needs to write down the days of the week: "Yesterday was Thursday / Today it is Friday"and so on. This raises the question: where does she get the weed? "We we we so excited / We so excited". As Chandler would put it: I think she's trying to tell us something? Someone get the verbs.

Suddently a black man appears. He's trying to use rap. It's not very effective. I feel that there's something disturbing about a large middle-aged man stalking an underage girl. He even knows about her difficulty of chosing car seats and everything. Oh, and because it's Friday, he calls out all his friends to have fun with Rebecca Black.

In the end we hear the robotised chorus some more. Sadly the blowjobing action that followed the party got cut off. What a dissapointment.

What a piece of utter crap. The many parrodies that were made don't even come close to being as laughable as the original. It's a retarded little world we live in and Rebecca Black it's just one of its retarded little peons.

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Cand este departe, timpul se-opreste,
Nici apa nu curge, nici iarba nu creste.
Pe strazi putere nu am sa mai circul
Caci sange nu-mi trece din atriu-n ventricul.

Dar cand mi-e aproape, pe inserate
Si odaile toate sunt luminate,
Eu zac intins in a mea neputinta
Admirand aceasta minunata fiinta.

Lacrimez cu placere si zambesc in cascade
Cand o strang la piept in miez de noapte
Si ii soptesc un tipat de multumire,
Apoi sarut cu patos a ei privire.

Ajuta-ma Cerule atotputernic
De mana ei sa fiu eu vrednic,
In bratele mele fericita sa steie
Aceasta zeita ce-ai numit-o... femeie.

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M-am trezit somnoros (stiu ca este oximoron, dar eu pot) cu noaptea in cap. Mi-am adus aminte ca astazi trebuie sa ma intalnesc cu IT-istii (stabilisem noi de vreo saptamana) asa ca am incercat sa ma imbrac adecvat.
Am plecat spre serviciu cu strigat de lupta pentru ca aveam niste imprimante de curatat si de trimis. Am ajuns la 7:05 si am intrat in ghiseul portarului:
- De ce ai venit la ora asta?
- La ora asta vin mereu.
- Da, dar programul tau este de la 8:30.
- Nu, nu a fost niciodata de la 8:30. Am venit de la 9:00, dar acum vin de la 7:00.
- A fost schimbat programul. Nu te-a anuntat nimeni?
- Nu m-a anuntat si nu cred ca a fost schimbat. Lamuresc eu asta mai tarziu. Da-ti-mi cheia ca sa intru.
- Nu pot sa-ti dau cheia pentru ca nu ai cod.
- Ba da, am cod.
- Bine, dar tot nu pot sa-ti dau cheia.
A deschis caietul minunat in care scria "informaticianul nu mai are voie sa deschida depozitul". Am petrecut urmatoarea ora si ceva alergand dupa cainele numarul 0 (asa ii spun eu) ca sa nu inghet.
Dupa 9:00 a aparut si Reli (femeia de servici).
- Buna, da-mi te rog ceva sa sterg imprimantele astea ca trebuie sa le trimit.
- N-am de unde.
- Macar o carpa, ceva...
- Am primit 3 carpe pentru luna asta.
- Dar macar o solutie de curatat ?
- Nici atat.
Am lasat imprimantele la fel de prafuite cum le-am gasit si nu le-am mai trimis.
=>> Fast Forward
Inainte sa plec de la munca m-a sunat tatal meu si mi-a zis ca este in Bucuresti si sa ne intalnim ca mi-a adus o patura. Asteptam patura aia de vreo saptamana, de cand ma trezesc in fiecare dimineata iceberg. Am trimis mail catre IT-isti ca nu mai pot sa ajung si am plecat. Prima data am trecut pe la teatru sa iau bilete.
Faza #1: dezamagirea
- Mai aveti bilete la Poiana Boilor pentru maine?
- Nu.
Pe fata ei s-a citit un zambet sictiros imbinat cu un inconfundabil "Ce! Esti prost?! Acu' vii si tu?". In acele momente mi-am adus aminte ca luni as fi vrut de fapt sa merg dupa bilete, insa aveam programare la dentist. Am ajuns de la 17 la programare (exact cum trebuia). Am asteptat calm 15-20 de minute (si cand spun "calm" trebuie sa simti ca ceva se apropie). In tot acest timp am facut un test dintr-o revista si am aflat ca la prima intalnire sunt deschisa si optimista. Am ajuns la concluzia ca ar trebui sa mai cumpere si cateva reviste pentru barbati . Dupa aceasta perioada revelatoare a iesit doamna.
- Pot sa intru?
- Poti daca vrei, dar nu merge aparatul.
Mi-am facut o alta programare cu zambetul pe buze.
Faza #2: acceptarea
- Daca veneam de luni as fi gasit bilete?
- Nu, le-am vandut de saptamana trecuta.
De la Teatrul de Comedie trebuia sa ajung la Parcul Izvorul Rece. Am hotarat sa merg pe jos ca sa mai vizitez zona veche. Dupa 10 metri am regretat decizia. Pantofii cei noi imi strangeau degetelele incat simteam ca au luat foc. Si probabil ca tot sangele oxigenat era blocat in zona talpilor si nu mai ajungea la creier. Cum altfel as putea explica faptul ca, dupa marea mea realizare, am continuat sa merg pe jos desi o statie de RATB era la 2-3 minute distanta? Acum ma gandesc ce bine era daca asta ar fi fost singura problema...
M-am intalnit cu tatal meu si am mers la o terasa. El a comandat o bere la halba, eu un suc. Chelnerita s-a uitat ciudat la mine cand am zis suc ... nectar ... de portocale rosii . Probabil se astepta sa cer si eu o bere (m-am gandit) pentru ca am o varsta; dar ea nu stie ca eu nu mai beau alcool. Dupa vreo 20 de minute, in convorbire cu tatal meu.
- Dar tu ... aaa ... asa se poarta acum?
- Nu inteleg la ce te referi.
- Tricoul, asa este modelul ... sau este invers?
Nu era invers... nu era invers front - back, era invers inside - out; se vedeau toate cusaturile si etichetele. Nu am avut unde sa-l schimb, deci am mers asa pana acasa, cu fata plecata, resemnat de propria-mi prostie. In total 13 ore am stat cu tricoul pe dos. Si ma intreb ce s-ar fi intamplat daca mergeam totusi la intalnire cu colegii mei IT-isti. Mai eram oare imbracat adecvat?

Mihai

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There once was a gray pebble living in a park, near a pretty lake. This tiny stone begged for attention from others because it thought it would bring it happiness. But it was very small and no one seemed to notice it. Other rocks that were much bigger got a lot of attention from visitors.
One day the pebble went to one of the large rocks and said: "I want to be just like you so people notice and respect me. How can I achieve that?" and it received the answer: "I was once a little rock like you. I was part of the most important library in the world. I read millions of books and I became very smart. But then the library collapsed. I remembered the contents of the books so all the other stones gathered around me to hear the stories. This is how I became the respected rock you see today".
Then the pebble went to another one and asked the same question. The answer was slightly different: "I was also a little pebble once. I lived on top of a mountain and I hoped to become huge. One day an avalanche broke and I rushed down the mountain with incredible speed. Along the way I gathered other small stones and I became the feared rock you see today". (authors note: in case some of you don't get it ... this is a metaphor for war).
After that the pebble went to a third and final stone. "I am very old", said the large rock. "I was once also as small as you. I was used for trading other objects. One day a very miserly man put me in a safe place. He then put many more little stones In that same place where no one was able to touch them. This is how I became the coveted rock you see today."
"I will do all of this and I will surely become big. Other people will notice me then", though the pebble. And so it went on a long journey: at first it stopped in the biggest library and read all the books, but other stones there were also familiar with the contents so none of them came to listen to the stories. Then it climbed to the top of the highest mountain and rolled down with incredible speed. But the other stones held on tight and stood still so the pebble reached the foot of the mountain all alone. For the final attempt it tried to get traded for other items, but it was gray and it was not of any value.
The pebble returned tired and disappointed to its old place in the park. As is was passing by the gift shop he noticed one bright blue colored stone. It was not bigger than the pebble, but it got a lot of attention and it seemed really happy. "What is your secret?", it shyly asked. "I was once a little gray stone just like you, but then I met a shiny red pebble. I spent a lot of time with it and that changed me into the little blue rock you see. They now call me sapphire."
"But where would I find another pebble as beautiful as that ruby?", the tiny stone wandered, then it returned to its place. There were no clouds that night and the moon was shining bright. Just for a couple of seconds the pebble glazed into the lake and there it saw it, the most radiant stone in the entire park: the pearl. It has always been there, but the little stone never noticed before how beautiful it was. At first the pebble wanted to jump right in the lake, but it looked at its reflection and saw how gray it was. "Such a pretty pearl would never like to spend time with me", feared the pebble. "Before i can jump in the lake I'll need to make myself better." So the little stone spent day and night, night and day polishing away all that gray until, after many moons, it became a shiny diamond.
The bright pebble jumped in hoping for the best, then slowly approached the pearl and asked if it could spend some time together because that would make the diamond happy. The beautiful pearl replied: "On the inside you're still a pebble and I could never spend time with you".

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Privesc inspre soare cu patos si-l rog sa te aduca la mine.
Privesc inspre luna si stele, imi spun c-o sa-mi fie mai bine.
Te-astept neincetat ca sa vii, te-astept zi si noapte afara
Caci eu sunt desertul intins, iar tu esti o ploaie de vara.

Privesc inspre rege cu patos si-l rog sa te aduca la mine.
Privesc inspre turnuri si cai, imi spun c-o sa-mi fie mai bine.
Astept neincetat sa te prind, astept zi si noapte pe tabla
Caci eu sunt nebunul de negru, iar tu esti regina mea alba.

Privesc inspre Ceruri cu patos; implor sa te aduca la mine.
Incerc sa-mi traiesc viata singur, dar n-o pot trai fara tine.
Te caut in rugi si in vise, astept alinarea ta blanda
Caci eu sunt un orb pe Pamant, iar tu esti lumina mea sfanta.

1 comentarii

We crash at your place tonight because it's closer. The one mattress you own is perfectly aligned with the old black-and-white TV with the rusty antenna that I brought. The reception is awful, but there's hardly anything good on. You say that you're tired and you want to lay down for a while. I walk aimlessly around the apartment and somehow I end up in the kitchen. I find left over Chinese food on the only chair in the room. I'm betting it's old, but I eat it anyway. I can't believe those guys didn't deliver the rest of your stuff yet. It's been nearly a week since you moved. I get back only to find you already asleep. I'm bored. I feel like doing something crazy.
I gently pat you on the shoulder. You open your eyes and ask how long were you out. You get up, but you find it difficult to stand. You realize we're not in your apartment anymore; we're in the back of a truck, on the road, and then you panic. I try to calm you down, to tell you that it's all a prank; for some reason you can't stop shacking; you're on the verge of crying and you ask where we are. I'm suddenly struck by the cold hard facts of reality: I don't know where we are or how we got there. The door is locked and the small windows are too dirty to see anything through them.
The truck makes a sharp turn, then stops. The door opens by itself. We are both shivering and sweating; I'm so scared my own thoughts don't even make sense to me: "where ...?... are you?"; we get off; we stopped near a wheat crop; we make an effort to see who was driving the truck, but there's no one there; there's no sign of civilization until ... another car stops in front of us; we didn't even see it coming; a man dressed as a priest steps out and tells us to follow him; we get closer, but we notice that the car is driven by a ...corpse. My heart beats so hard that I think even he can hear it because he's looking straight at my chest.
We don't say a word; we couldn't; we both run at the same time into the wheat crop; the priest follows us; behind him there are a couple of corpses running as well; I look back to see how far they are; I notice that the corpses are multiplying; we run past what could have been a grave; I then realize that we're no longer running trough a wheat crop; it's a burial ground. We stop only for a second to catch our breath; I glance at you and instantly fall on my knees; my thoughts became clearer and I now know what I was thinking before: "where am I? who are you?"; I no longer recognize you; your face doesn't seem familiar anymore; you try to say something, but I don't understand it; you are changing; you are becoming one of them. I get up and run as fast as I can leaving you behind. Adrenaline runs madly through my body, but somehow I seem to be slowing down.
I keep saying to myself that I mustn't stop, I mustn't stop, but then I reach an enormous crater. I take one final look back; the priest was still behind me and he was now closely followed by an army of corpses. I just want to escape this ... I just want to ... I plunge. I am ready for whatever is at the bottom of this crater.
I'm falling ... and falling... Suddenly I feel a hand gently patting me on the shoulder. I open my eyes and ask how long was I out? I get up, but I find it difficult to stand. I realize we're not in my apartment anymore; we're in the back of a truck, on the road, and then I panic: "Where ...?... are you?"
Tag-uri Technorati: English

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Based on a true story

There once was a guy named Network Cable, but friends use to call him Cable. One day he unwillingly met a girl named Interface Card; she was inserted into the proper slot and had all her drivers installed and Cable feel in love with her right away. Soon they got married and decided to have a child which they would name Connection (regardless of gender: transmitting or receiving).

Unfortunately, after pinging the default gateway a couple of times, Cable discovered that his requests would timeout and could not reach their destination. This problem upset GOD (Grandfather Of Devices) because he was really counting on the birth of Network Connection.

“What the hell?!”, said GOD. He was sad that he said “hell”, but then he remembered that he is an atheist and he doesn’t give a crap about that. GOD picked up a cellular communications device and pushed a certain sequence of buttons and then he waited and waited … and waited. The one song that played for about ten minutes made GOD want to crush the phone into very tiny pieces. Sadly, the device was not his to destroy and also as expensive as a Broadway hooker.

“RDS hotline! How may I help you?”

“I have a problem with Network Connection”, GOD replied.

“Yes sir, I understand. But how may I help you?”

At that moment GOD realized that he was dealing with a useless high-school reject who was reading a script of a xeroxed piece of paper. At first he thought that it would be easier to ask the retarded freak to get to the next question, but then he decided it would be more pleasant to make fun of the incompetent little bitch:

“Miss, I think Network Cable is castrated because his packets are not flowing in Network Interface Card.”

Surprisingly, the dumber than a common ape person was not affected by this statement and continued reading of the piece of paper with a robotic voice:

“Sir, may I help you set Connection manually?”

This made GOD a little angry:

“Miss, I have been doing it manually for a lot of time now. I don’t need help with that. I think I’m ready for the next level.”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to please hold for a little bit.”

While waiting, all that GOD could think about was what was this +50 IQ wannabe doing.

“Sir, thank you for waiting. Could you please hold for a little bit?”

This confused GOD and made him even angrier, but he couldn’t hang up on the poor pathetic excuse for a hopefully, someday, human being.

“Sir, thank you for waiting. I am unable to help you with your problem.”

“Well, I could have told you that ever since you answered “RDS hotline!”.”

“I did, however, sent your request to a network administrator. May I help you with anything else?”

“I think that you could, but you’re too far away for what I had in mind. Goodbye!”

Tag-uri Technorati: RDS hotline sucks

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Crima

Mintea ii spunea sa renunte, iar inima ii batea cat pentru doi oameni, insa mainile parca nu il ascultau si nu s-au oprit pana ce toate cele sase gloante erau perfect asezate in incarcator, gata sa tasnesca pe teava la cea mai mica atingere. S-a privit pentru o ultima secunda in oglinda camerei de hotel inainte de a iesi in strada; nu se recunostea, nu ii venea sa creada ce acceptase sa faca. Singurul lucru care ii aducea alinare este ca nu avea nimic de pierdut: nici familie, nici casa,... un om al nimanui pierdut zilnic printre constructii impunatoare de caramida si beton.

La cofetaria de pe colt, acolo i-a vazut pe cei doi, exact cum i s-a spus; Hans, mai batran, cu inceput de chelie, imbracat intr-un costum negru, impecabil, si Walter, un tanar blond cu ochelari de soare si geaca de piele; acestia erau detinatorii companiei Fœra, acestia erau tintele lui. A asteptat in liniste, ii privea fix de pe trotuarul indepartat insa, ca de fiecare data, nimeni nu il baga in seama. Ii era sete, dar nu a indraznit sa se miste, nu isi permitea sa greseasca ceva.

Cele 20 de minute i s-au parut o vesnicie, iar cand cei doi s-au ridicat inima i s-a oprit pentru cateva clipe; nu mai avea cum sa dea inapoi. I-a privit cum au plecat, i-a privit cum au luat-o spre stanga pe acea strada laturalnica exact cum stia ca se va intampla, i-a urmarit cu precizie de felina. Mai intai s-a asigurat ca nu-l priveste nimeni, apoi a scos revolverul; era nou si argintiu, in lumina soarelui ar fi stralucit mai tare ca o oglinda. Nu a spus nimic; i s-a parut atat de simplu sa tinteasca, atat de usor sa apese pe tragaci; primul glont eliberat s-a indreptat spre Walter; la fel de usor i-a fost sa il priveasca pe tanar cazand pe asfaltul rece; Hans nici nu a avut timp sa se intoarca inainte ca al doilea glont sa-i strapunga spatele; s-a pabusit ca un copac batran taiat de la radacina.

A ramas asa, blocat, pentru un timp; o sirena a politiei l-a trezit, o masina ce se afla din intamplare prin apropiere. A inceput sa fuga speriat asa cum nici nu stia cum poate sa o faca; din doua miscari a sarit gardul de la macelarie, gard pe care il sarise de atatea ori in trecut cand se ducea sa fure mancare. Dupa cativa kilometri s-a oprit, a aprivit in jur si a zambit fericit realizand ca a reusit sa se piarda prin multime. A ingopat revolverul sub podul de la iesirea din oras. In acea seara nu s-a mai intors in hotel desi avea camera platita; a preferat sa ramana pe strada unde se simtea mai in siguranta. Insa nu mare i-a fost surprinderea cand s-a trezit tarat de doi ofiteri spre masina. Era atent la fiecare gest, la fiecare cuvant; la sectie a aflat ca a existat un martor ocular s-a crima pe care o comisese; se pare ca in incercarea sa primul glont nu a fost letal pentru tanarul Walter, ci abia ii atinsese umarul acestuia. In linie a incercat sa stea mai drept ca ceilalti, mai nemiscat, mai sigur pe el; se gandea doar ce va face cu banii cand va scapa de acolo. Dupa nu mai mult de o ora a fost eliberat pe motiv ca martorul nu l-a recunoscut. La plecarea din sectie a salutat respectuos politistii care il adusesera.

A doua zi, chiar la pranz, s-a intors sub pod unde ingropase revolverul; acolo a gasit, dupa cum i s-a promis, plicul cu bani. L-a luat si a plecat implinit spre locuri pe care doar el le cunostea.

Preludiul crimei

Ca in fiecare zi statea pe jos, langa cofetaria de pe colt, cersind. Toti treceau pe langa el si nu-l bagau in seama pana cand un necunoscut s-a apropiat, s-a aplecat si i-a facut o propunere ce l-a speriat; insa suma de bani pe care i-a oferit-o l-ar fi putut scoate din mizeria in care traia; orbit de acea promisiune, dar cu o mare retinere, intr-un final a acceptat. A luat pranzul cu acel necunoscut si a primit toate detaliile necesare, planul perfect conceput, precum si identitatea victimelor:

- Hans este un batran nebun, de moda veche, si trebuie eliminat. Eu sunt Walter.

Reaper, out...
Tag-uri Technorati: Preludiul crimei

1 comentarii

Esti prost. Si nu iti spun asta ca sa te jignesc, dar incerc sa iti arat ca te faci de rusine. Mai rau este ca, atunci cand tu nu realizezi asta, ma faci pe mine de rusine pentru ca, din pacate, facem parte din aceeasi rasa.
Aglomeratie mare in Bucuresti. Cand urci in orice mijloc de transport in comun vezi multi oameni care sta in picioare, iar uneori acestia se impinge si se cearta. In general, pe scaune are loc doar oamenii batrani sau cei care-i doare picioarele... Ma scuzati! Am vrut sa scriu "ce-i pe care-i doare picioarele". Si mereu ei este necajiti si se plange ba ca nu are bani, ba ca muncitorii nu face treaba buna, ba ca altceva.
Ascultand in fiecare zi acelasi lucru nu simti nevoia sa te intrebi: Oare oamenii astia unde a facut scoala? Oare invatatoarele lor nu a fost platite suficient ca sa-i invete ca verbele are forma de plural? Daca nu le convenea salariul atunci de ce nu a facut greva? De ce a lasat sa umble pe strada asemenea specimene inadaptate?
Pluralul: persoana I - "noi"; persoana a II-a - "voi"; persoana a III-a - "ei". Ce ai cu ei? Ce ti-au facut? De ce trebuie mereu sa-i transformi intr-o singura persoana? Nu spui "noi sunt prosti"; nu spui "voi esti prosti"; de ce ei trebuie sa este prosti? Nu!... gresesc. De fapt spui "ei e prosti". Ce motiv poti sa ai sa nu termini verbul? Hai sa incerc sa ghicesc:
- traim in secolul vitezei asa ca incerci sa fii cat mai productiv economisind cateva milisecunde; poate ca te grabesti sa dai masteratul la Litere si iti este frica sa nu intarzii (sau ar fi trebuit sa scriu "sa nu intarzi" ca sa fie pe limba ta?).
- stii ca este posibil sa gresesti si atunci cand cineva iti atrage atentia incerci sa te salvezi: "Nu!Nu! M-ai inteles gresit. Am spus , cum ar fi (pentru ca profesoarele nu te-a invatat ce este interjectia), apoi am oftat pentru ca mi-e foame, dar nu mai e oua in frigider si trebuie sa ma duc sa cumpar, iar apoi am spus ."
De fapt nici nu conteaza care iti este motivul. Oricum imi este rusine ca traiesc in aceeasi tara cu tine. Nu mai da vina pe altii ca nu traiesti bine si pune mana pe o carte.
Intr-un final se sfarseste agonia, cobor dezgustat din mijlocul de transport in comun si temandu-ma ca nu cumva IQ-ul meu sa fi scazut cu vreo doua puncte doar pentru ca sunt inconjurat de analfabeti. Intru in birou, ma asez la calculator si incep sa scriu: "Esti prost. Si nu iti spun asta ca sa te jignesc[...]"
Ce ai inteles tu: oamenii este prosti. Dar, din pacate, chiar daca nu vrei, tu esti oameni. Fa tranzitivitatea si vei afla ce trebuia sa intelegi.

Reaper, out...

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Iata cum concediul s-a incheiat. Spre dimineata voi pleca inca o data spre locul in care lucrez de atata timp. Ma trezesc cu dificultate, ma spal cu lene, ma imbrac cu sila, ma uit pe geam cu... A nins. Un strat alb acopera noroiul pe care il batatoresc de ceva timp cu ghetele grele. Dar privind de sus nu pot sa inteleg cat de intalti sunt nametii de nea. Abia cand ies afara realizez ... o sa am probleme.
Si nu m-ar deranja ca inaintez atat de greu daca nu as fi plecat atat de tarziu. Desi nu este momentul potrivit va trebui sa caut o scurtatura. In scurt timp ajung la salcia pletoasa. Este mai alba decat mi-am imaginat. De aici o iau inainte pana la spitalul ala care se cere renovat de vreo trei ani. Nu am fost in interior pana acum si nici nu cred ca voi face asta. Ma amuz gandindu-ma ce frumos ar arata vopsit in portocaliu. Hmmm... Nu cumva ar fi trebuit sa fac stanga la restaurant? Oare am trecut de el? Cum de n-am observat asta? Poate din cauza ca este inchis. La cat de mult a nins nu cred ca vor avea clienti azi. O s-o iau pe dupa blocul urmator si trebuie sa ajung la piata. Acolo, daca am noroc, ma asteapta tramvaiul; dar sa fim seriosi!... cand am eu asemenea noroc? Sigur va trebui sa stau cateva minute bune in frig.
Fac stanga dupa dupa cum am hotarat si ... ce naiba?! Unde-i piata? Cand a aparut padurea asta?! Nu se poate ... nu se ... poate! Cred ca mi-a inghetat creierul. Dar sunt sigur ca pe aici trebuie sa... Refuz! Ca sa scap de teama ce ma cuprinse incep sa imi repet: "merg inainte si ajung la tramvai! merg inainte si ajung la tramvai!"... mai intai in gand, apoi cu glas tare. Pornesc prin padure; ma grabesc; poate daca as gasi pe cineva sa cer niste directii, sa-mi arate calea cel buna. Dar e pustiu; cine oare sa ma auda, sa ma indrume? Observ, in departare, o cabana; rasuflu usurat gandindu-ma ca poate voi gasi acolo un om care ma va ajuta. Incerc sa ciocan, dar usa se deschide inainte sa o ating. Inauntru ... nimeni!... pe masa o farfurie nespalata, pe spatarul scaunului o vesta, dar in semineu lemnele erau asezate perfect si eu aveam o bricheta in buzunarul de la piept. Aprind imediat un foc, insa in cateva clipe simt ca ma arde ... tare. Ma indepartez putin de semineu si totusi durerea pare sa fie si mai insuportabila. Ies repede din cabana si fug cat mai departe.
Dupa cateva sute de metri ma opresc sa-mi trag suflul. Obosit, tot inghetat, ratacit ... aud un zgomot; este o masina, posibil o masina inzapezita care nu mai porneste de pe loc. Atunci observ ca iesisem la o strada; ma ghidez dupa sunete si intr-un final ajung. Un om se uita neputincios la motor si pare nu intelege ce s-a intamplat. Insa ceea ce imi atrage atentia este ca acest individ ii cere cuiva piese desi nu este nimeni langa el. E nebun! Si totusi ... trebuie sa plec de aici. Ma ofer sa il ajut ... ma ingora, dar nu pentru ca este nepoliticos, ci pentru ca nu ma aude, nu ma vede. In acel moment pe langa mine trece o fetita ... dupa ea trage un zmeu. Este periculos sa alerge pe strada, gandesc eu, si incep sa fug dupa ea. Dar este mult prea rapida si nu se scufunda in stratul gros de zapada; pentru o clipa se intoarce si pare sa strige ceva: contuzie? degeraturi? Ce vrea sa-mi spuna? Fug si mai tare incercand sa o prind, dar, dupa doar cativa pasi, alunec si cad neputincios pe spate.
Imprejur aud numeroase voci. Deschid iar ochii. Ma amuz observand ce frumos arata peretii portocalii. Printre toate acele persoane dinsting o silueta.
"Ti-ai reparat masina?", il intreb pe nebunul de pe strada.
"Inca esti putin confuz", ma linisteste el, doctorul ce imi salvase viata.
Corpul inca imi arde, dar acum sunt mai linistit doar pentru ca sunt din nou printre oameni. Nu credeam ca voi ajunge vreodata in interiorul acestui spital, dar acum sunt bucuros ca sunt aici.

Reaper, out...

Tag-uri Technorati: a nins Reaper

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