ganduri de duminica 3

a mai trecut o garda. iar nesomn, stres, bucurie, agonie.
si-n lumea mea ma simt nemuritoare si rece.
as fi putut fi mai mult.
I could have been married with children.
I could have loved you more?
You could have been more understanting.
All i ever needed were arms to hold me tight to fall asleep and a mouth to wipe away my fears. A friendly thought, an open heart. I got everything but that.
Instead I learned to go to bed alone, to swallow my fears and to pretend that they don't exist.
Now I have to face them again. But it will be ok. I'm ok.

frig!

and when you think that things are better cold strikes again.
fucking, fucking cold as in -18 degrees cold.
and when you have a car cold isn`t helping!
on the contrary, your fingers will freeze to death while you desperately attempt to scratch away the ice on your windshield.



BUT! this is just the beginning.
after that cold gets into your home. and it gets like 10 degrees max.
which is fucking cold!
try to sleep at 10 degrees you will wish to be born in central africa!
running free with the ostriches.

and as a bad joke comes the wind.

oh well vive le vent vive le vent vive le vent d`hiver!

21721

Un numar sunt de cateva ori pe luna. 21721. nu e usor. cand te cheama trebuie sa te duci. dar ce te faci cand te cheama pentru ca pacienta ta e in coma? nu e de ajuns ca trebuie sa ii spui ca e impanzita de metastaze cand ea vine pentru o banala durere de spate. ce poti face? dupa ce i-ai spus si tu ai plans si ea te-a incurajat. ea e puternica si tu te simti ca ultimul om pentru ca tu i-ai spus ce are. tu i-ai spus indirect ca o sa moara. tu devii domnisoara cu, coasa. si alataieri era bine. si azi o gasesti in coma la urgente cu hernie cerebrala. si o strangi de mana si ii spui sa reziste chiar daca nu te aude. urgentistii te intreaba ce sa faca cu ea? e caz paleativ? o transfera...si tie iti vine sa iti iei campii si iti repeti intr-una alaltaieri era bine, alaltaieri era bine...cum poti sa decizi soarta unui om asa? iar dupa ce am sunat la toate spitalele posibile mi-am dat seama ca asta e. ca nu o sa o ia nici neurochirurgia, nici oncologia, ca e caz terminal, ca trebuie sa ii dau drumul.

dar cum poti sa dai drumul unui om fara macar sa il cunosti.

sometimes you have to let go.

sometimes death is blond with green eyes and glasses and has the voice of a child. and says...ghilimele...debransati-o...the end.