However

And I wrote a lot, and I wrote badly and I wrote in my stupidity about things unknown and about things that I only thought I understood. But today when I lay my pen on a white sheet of paper or when my fingers hit the keyboard I write well! And as I said before, modesty not being one of my features, I don’t need anyone to confirm or infirm my opinion regarding what and how I write. For some, believing in themselves is not enough. They need opinions, they need confirmations and “constructive criticism”. I don’t believe in “constructive criticism” – those who want it only look for praises to feed upon, and those who offer it are hypocrites disguised as diplomats. The first are week and the next are cowards.
The first fear themselves and the second fear the world. Not that I’m not, I was just a pure observation( and that is how a “school girl” statement can ruin the quality and the impact of a very well written paragraph)!But we will come back to that later on, now we deviated.


I was speaking about small towns. Sometimes understanding that not all small towns are the same is not implied. To some extent, in a specific region one can and one will always try to make a generalization of small towns, but when in a context of a high level of globalization such as that of the year 2012, one must take into consideration the Romanian landscape in which my house and my childhood are situated.
And here is where, what “British scientist”(I will soon convince myself that there is no other kind) refer to as the “language barrier” comes in. But I am not speaking about words that are spelled and hence pronounced differently but mean the same thing, I am speaking about those words that mean something to me and nothing to them. I am only referring to the pure Romanian things, not the personal ones that even for my brother have no meaning. As small and as few as these differences might seem, they count and regardless of how much I’d try to explain them I would be pointlessly wasting my time.
The Court of Arges is a Romanian small town. Economically speaking it means unemployment and zero industry, speaking from a tourist’s point of view it isn’t even on the map, potentially speaking it is a dead end and socially speaking it is similar to a pack of hyenas.


However! Because there is always a "however"! "The dead end" has had its good parts. I don’t clearly remember all of them, but, completely by chance, I had a revelation today. In the midst of extensive observations on the mechanics and mechanism of humor, someone said something extraordinary: slowing down makes us aware of our existence and our autonomy. And then it hit me! It's a matter of rhythm! And if you see life as a dance then that makes perfect sense, but if you can strive to focus a bit it can also makes sense even if that is not the case. Since I left I kept struggling with the question "Where is your spirituality?". Brought down from “Eden heights” into the puddle that us “mortals” bare our existence, the question itself, coming from the people who addressed it , has its own autonomy and is perfectly justified because the Court of Arges, in that specific social circle, in that specific context, I used to be spiritual , and now I do not manifest that spirituality even to those with whom I once found its vast domains as natural as breathing.
I ignored the question, not in an attempt to avoid it, but I thought it was stupidly addressed in a complete factual unawareness.