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Saturday 27 April 2013

Apparently I can write. I've been so busy being depressed and moaning about about my life that I forgot all about it, or better put, I forgot I can do it here. Since the dawn of its existence, my blog has always been my moaning sanctuary just as much as it has been my spotlight. Here I tend to use bigger words and sound far more cultured and pretentious than I do in real life. I often wondered why that is, but that's a different story which shall maybe tell another time.
I forgot about about my blog or better yet, I've been ignoring it for lack of having something to say. But today I remembered I never had anything to say and yet that never stopped me before.

So here I am again saying nothing! I've thought about my life many times and concluded it would make a pathetic, overly dramatic and meaningless novel. It would make a fucking great novel! People would love to read it! ....I've also remembered that for some silly reason I tend to curse a lot less if not at all on my blog. Why is that I wonder?
Anyway coming back to the kind of novel my life would make. I thought about beginning to write it many times, yet something stopped me. Maybe the fact that I never finish a single thing I start, maybe the fact that I get bored and give up quite quickly, that I never sacrificed a single thing to achieve a goal,  maybe the fact that it would be- as it always has been- the only thing I could ever write or maybe the fear that people would know it. They would be able to read it all, see it all, judge it all, every little aspect of my life, my every move, my every decision, my every mistake and more importantly the way in which I never really assumed responsibility for anything.  blamed of thanked a god for my lie, my present, my future and my past ever since I know myself. I've never been responsible for anything. I am both actor and spectator in my life. I say and do what the script says. I observe and criticise and enjoy the acting form the perspective of a viewer, but I would never accept, not even for a second, that I am the one who also writes the play.

I threw away my course work so I forgot the name of the genius analytic film theorist that claimed that as spectators, we are all men. Though many have argued against this female genius' claims, I find her theory to be very true. At least in my case!

PS: Laura Mulvey! Yes! That's her name! Brilliant woman, not very fun and with an unnecessarily complicated academic writing style, but nonetheless, brilliant.

Sunday 14 April 2013

-Un tip cu un ordin de restrictie,un receptioner glorificat,un drogat care vrea sa faca medicina, un regizor ratat care e deasemenea drogat si un virgin.
-Suna ca un banc nu foarte bun. Si? Cum e sa 'lucrezi' cu ei?
-Dau telefoane Ver, nu ma prostituez....Inca...
-Imi pare rau.N-am vurut sa ...grabesc lucrurile. Cum e sa dai telefoane cu ei?