brain dead.no such thing.

i started writing this poem after reaadin The Shinin' by Stephen King.

Cromatism cerebral

“Fugi mai repede ca rosul ce se

Ascunde in sangele tau.”

O umbră, increatul din culoare

Rătăceşte prin sinapse goale, oare?

Şi din gânduri face noapte... poate?

Nebunia striga-n şoapte scăpate

Ode de moarte.

Straluceste-n leduri din sângerii parfumate:

Luciditate.

O luptă, stăpânirea de oase!

Scuipă sângele din anevrism,

Mult coşmar, de timp, de cerebral.

                  De nebunie curăţă-mi

Dinamitele canceroase.

Luciditate, mama strâmbei realitate

Ciopleste-mi timpanul

Să nu mai aud culorile.

i think it goes great with this song.

somn.

Somn

Vise trec visătoare

Alergând în mare-n picioare goale

Şi sting nisipuri mişcătoare

Ce-nghit aerul de sare

Văd speranța-ntepatoare

Cum aleargă după soare

Să-l omoare

E prea mare-moare!

C-a uscat-o cu lumina

Realităţii care doare

I-a făcut copil

Demon infantil

Şi-n mocirla primordiala

Un peşte de zăpadă zboară

Că e om

Îi este somn

whats your death?

the death of an artist is not being capable of creating.my death is being normal.
whats yours?

random chatter

like i said before, i'm gonna post my creations after i translate them in spanish and english, but it is harder than i thought
untill then listen to this song i found on the internet

feeling myself.and the universe

soo, ive never know that my obssesion with colours started so long ago, so here u have another old poem i buit up a long time ago.hang in there me, myself and the universe

The unseen vision of serenity

Lost his color, lost his sense

Dual souls trapped in one

Black and white, yen and yang

In this world of vainly measures

I am a god of desperation closures

Darkness drapes my soul

Calms me down, my insanity

Voices screaming, monochrome dreaming

See the world's end on his way

No one to blame

Pain still doesn't hurt

Make this colorless end short

Negativity pulls me back

So untouched by the flames of happiness

So many things cause distress

The wind blows out the rust

It turns into black

Covers the eye so hard

Fight it back, can’t see the light

What the hell is wrong with me?

Funeral is what has left...

ps:i had no ideea my blog is watched by people from germany/urkraine/russia and even india.this i a nice surprise

post for hunger.boredom

cant help it but share this .shes AWESOME.

one of my first fucking poems

so these day i am really into vintage shit.and i also happened to find this really old poem  i wrote,that i later turned into a song.someday soon im gonna post the song too.untill then

hang in there.me,myself and the universe

i don't want to runaway

From the things, that causes me pain

I don't want to getaway

Driving crazy on the highway

But I can't live this way

Hiding from my past

Being scared of the mistakes

That changed my life's path

I don’t wanna play a role

I rushed away all the rust and mole

I don’t want to smile to everyone

Just want to fuck myself once in a while

Tired of waking up from the dreadful

Meaning of life

Just want to scream,

No matter what denial may come

I want to sense the chemestry between

You and me

Have one night stand

Afterday just leave

With no remorses in between

Whitout people judgeing me

For who I am and what I see

Is clear that they're upset with me

heres the original version

 aici aveti varanta originala

I.             Peludiu asamblat in cordoane de sunet inecat

Albul este culoarea care imi aduce durere in fiecare nerv, in fiecare celula acromatica.Iar alb este peste tot.In padurea mea.Am izolat chiar si cea mai atomica speranta la speranta  la fericiriea omeneasca si inclin sa zbor cu aripi rosii spumegande catre infernul ce atarna suspendat deasupra infinitului nimicului.Infern egal cu a fi EU. Mutiland fumul amagirii cerebrale mi-am dat seama ca nu imi  jertfesc fericirea pe un altar de albastru doar din dorinta masochista de a-mi vedea sufletul pangarit si tarat prin cioburi de plasma ca plasma vascoasa sa creasca , ci doar ca sa nu ranesc mateasa ca ma leaga(in lanturi?)de ce mi-a fost dictat, un gand alterat, ca ce e real e azi, ce e in cap e alb cu nuante de sticla.DEZLANTUIRE IN RITM DE HIENA.ALBASTRU RASUL OAMENILOR.

ALBUL E DURERREA, ALBASTRUL E CRIMA.

M-am nascut pentru a mi se usca retina dar voi muri pentru a zbura.

rezolutie de maine nou: voi fi eu. UNDE E OGLINDA UNDE POT EVADA? UNDE E LIMBA SUB CARE Pot sa-mi scriu povestea?

 Ciudat?un gand a evadat? Si in urechile lui a sculptat lupta ce se da in cap?Al meu cap?

lil red; sneak peak

so here you have a sneak peak of the beginning of my first book called Little Red
ps:i did my best translating the text from romanian,
pps:if something doesnt make sense, dont worry, you give it a meaning, and let me know what that is.

I. Prelude assembled in cords of drowned sound

White is the color that brings pain in my every nerve, in my every colorless cell. Everywhere. In my forest. I isolated even the most atomic hope of hoping for human happiness and I’m inclined to fly with foaming red wings to the inferno that hangs over the infinite of nothingness. Hell =  Me. Mutilating the smoke of delusion I’ve realized that I’m not sacrificing my happiness on a shrine of blue just because I have this masochist wish of seeing my soul tainted and dragged through fragments of plasma so the thick plasma can grow, but so I’m not hurting the silk that binds me (in chains?) to what was dictated to me, an altered thought, that what is real is today, what is in my head is  white with glass shades. Unleash in a hyena rhythm. Blue is the laughter of people. White is pain, blue is murder. I was born so my retina dries out, I will die so I could fly. New tomorrow resolution: I will be myself. Where is the mirror through which I can escape? Where is the tongue under which I can write my story? Weird? Has a thought escaped? And in his ear my figh thas carved? The fight that takes place in my head?

boredom.post for hunger.

love her.but why the fuck would she team up with madonna?

Life will start soon.eat it with a spoon.

i will start publishing my works as soon as I fisnish translating the chapter ive written so far

btw: u shold check out the amazing M.I.A, she is truly an inspiring artist
hang in there.me, myself, and the universe

life. beauty. beauty.

cred că arta ar trebui să fie gratuită.eu sunt arta morbidă, panza gratuită.arde-mă!

I think art should be fee.I are morbid art,  free fabric.burn me.