START

I want to say that I'm not completely sure what I'll be writing here. I think I may use it to put down what consumes my mind, what drives me crazy, my responses to what happens to me and to people around me. If anybody ever happens to read it and finds it at least close to intriguing or thought provoking or even just interesting that's great. If not, well, I'll just keep going to remind myself that I'm not dead yet... Or maybe to get to know myself a little better. That's the more optimistic version.

Anyway, I suspect I'll find it difficult to write regularly, there may be times when I'll write nothing for two months, and then write everyday. Life's hectic sometimes. Or I'll decide that it's all pointless and why the hell I ever believed my thoughts are worth taking up the virtual space. Pathetic!

I think it may be important to add that English is not my native language so I may sound funny sometimes. You may call it my idiosyncratic style if you want to be nice. I doubt anybody will read it anyway. Unless I force them to... We all seem to be more and more busy, kicking our butts with our own feet, get going, get going, get going... How do you find time to read these days? I would definitely choose to read a good book instead of some pitiful attempts to record the mundane details of somebody's life or even worse, the meanders of a sick mind. I would love to hear an explanation for why I'm really starting this. Venting? Psychotherapy? I'm questioning myself at the very beginning. That's not a good prognosis for the whole endeavor. I'll end this post with a little piece of poetry I wrote in 2006. Not much has changed since that time in the way I feel.



Life Time

I want peace for my heart and
excitement for my mind.
I want God for my soul and
passion for my body.

I want to be left alone but then
I miss those that are gone.
I want to stop thinking, seeing,
remembering, hearing, stop feeling.

I want to stop dealing, coping,
stop just getting by and
I want to stop doing the best I can…
but then will I be visible, real, or

will I disintegrate, disappear, die?
Do I want to exist, still?
Is it contradictory?
Do I want so much or so little?


I want my eyes to wander without
hitting walls – wooden walls, cement
walls, steel walls. I am spinning around
looking for an opening but there is

none. I am crushing, I am suffocating,
I cannot see, I cannot be…
I want to lie down on the grass and
feel, feel the ground and the sky.

I want them to unite through my body,
conceive me anew in their rhythms
and vibrations, then give birth to me.
I hear myself scream, I feel myself

tremble. What am I crying over, how
painful is it to break free of yourself?
I want to breathe, just breathe
for now.


I want to find out who I am.
I want to get rid of all the superficial
baggage I have collected along
the way, all the faces

I have tried on, all the dirt
that has stuck to my feet.
I want to stay pure, pure like
the beginning of life but…

I have been spoiled by civilization.
I have inhaled the destructive
fumes of man-made inventions.
I have been caught in the enticing

claws of man-made ideas.
I have been told I need to develop
all of my talents. So little time, feeling so inept…
But …I have to write and teach, research and guide,


I have to raise children. Or else I’ll be
nothing. I am being a whole, confident, and
dependable person. I am having
ambitions, aims, plans. Look how

well I can hide my wounds,
what a strong and useful person
I have become. Aren’t you proud of me?
I have been shaped to believe, believe that

I have to use my time wisely to get it all.
I have so much to do, achieve, prove…or else
I will be nobody. No life. No me.
I have allowed myself to be dragged into the

time race of our kind. Time. Save time, buy
time, spend time, waste time, I am pressed for
time, there is so little time, I have no
time left, time flies, time’s up!