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.