Cugetare...

Din bruma de informatie pe care o am in legatura cu George Bacovia ,imediat imi vine in minte un citat dintr-o poezie de-a sa... "Liceu" se numeste respectiva si debuteaza cu versul "Liceu-cimitir al tineretii mele ".

Anul trecut,cand am auzit pentru prima data aceasta afirmatie,m-am aratat destul de sceptic la ceea ce a vrut sa spuna...Adica...tipule,ce vrei sa spui?La liceu e bine.Da...adevarul este ca anul trecut la liceu era bine,chiar foarte bine.Comparativ cu pragul clasei a 5-a(ce marca un alt debut),clasa a 9-a a fost banala,pe plan scolar totul mi-a mers din plin,am luat note destul de bune pe un efort relativ mic.Anul trecut am fost un norocos.

Am corelat clasa a 9-a cu a 6-a...pe care continui sa o consider cea mai frumoasa perioada din viata mea.Motive sunt nenumarate,neimportante acum.Totul a mers din plin atunci...cel putin din punct de vedere scolar...efort aproape nul=> note mari.

Nu stiu de ce,am crezut ca a 6-a va avea corespondent in a 10-a.Chiar nu stiu de ce am crezut asta.Inca traiesc un soc cand aflu ca nu e asa.Nu stiu daca li se intampla tuturor sau doar mie,dar clasa a 10-a e un cosmar...ore stresante,profesorii devin si ei stresanti.Tot ce era mai frumos anul trecut s-a dus pe apa sambetei.Parca toti profesorii au innebunit cu notele...parca vine sfarsitul lumii si nu avem note...Parca fac tot posibilul sa nu luam notele prea usor...parca insista sa ne chinuim,desi nu e necesar si nici sanatos sa le stim materia una-doua ca asa trebuie.

Oboseala e maxima...timpul e foarte limitat...nu pot face nimic niciodata.Nu am timp.Adica vrei nu vrei,oricat de ignorant ai fi(oh,si credeti-ma pot fi foarte ignorant in legatura cu scoala) trebuie sa te ocupi cate putin din toate,daca nu, le pierzi de sub control si ajungi sa alergi in disperare dupa salvari de ultim-moment.Facand chiar mai putin decat strictul-necesar ...concluzionez ca nu am timp.Nu fac nimic,sunt mort de oboseala tot timpul ,mai am mici stresuri si cand ajung acasa pentru mici banalitati.Man...I'm dying out-here!

Uneori gandesc despre Bacovia cum ca ar fi avut intr-adevar dreptate...

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Azi am descoperit ca sunt un prost...Da,recunosc,sunt un prost.Pot fi prost intr-unul sau mai multe domenii...niciodata perfect,intotdeauna cu o lacuna undeva,chiar in mai multe locuri.Imi recunosc defectul,slabiciunea etc.Bine ar fi sa si le recunoasca si altii.Azi am fost un prost pentru ca nu am invatat la chimie,si nu am facut o chestie foarte banala.Corect! Sunt prost! Dar asta ma face sa devin mai bun pentru mine insumi.Nu pun la inima anumite ironii,ci invat din ele si merg mai departe.Bine ar fi sa mai faca si altii asta...

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Probabil ca pe...miercuri voi reusi sa postez filmul...miercuri sau joi,trebuie sa ma asigur ca am voie sa-o fac.Sa nu o dau naibii in alte dandanale.

Pana maine cand voi cauta un clip cu muzica saptamanal...

Numai bine!

Nu...

...nu am renuntat la blog ,si nici nu-l tratez cu mai multa superficialitate,doar ca saptamana asta a fost nebuna.Luni-Marti si Miercuri nici n-am fost la scoala,fiindca am avut filmari,editari,montaje de facut...va amintiti ca spuneam ca facem un film,nu? Pai e gata...de indata ce ne va permite regulamentul o sa-l uploadez si pe blog.Dar sa vedem cand se va intampla asta.

Alte chestii...
...nu prea stiu sa va spun,zilele astea am fost complet izolat de "lumea noutatilor" si n-am auzit prea multe.
...Romania joaca sambata cu Kastravetzky Bulgaria,din pacate fara Mutu.Faza de atac va fi la pamant dar eu sper sa batem oricum.
...a aparut un site foarte tare,la creearea caruia a participat si mns . Incercati-l ca e foarte tare...chiar aici.
...dupa lupte seculare care au durat o saptamana,am downloadat doua variante de Gears of War,prima fiind in spaniola,cea de-a doua in engleza...finally.Am jucat destul de putin.Cand il mai aprofundez fac un review...ce pot sa spun pana acum e doar...meserie!
...revenind la film am reusit sa invat sa folosesc Ulead VideoStudio 11 Pro.Noroc ca nu am fost singur.Chiar vreau sa le multumesc colegilor pentru ajutor.
...sunt putin nervos pe scoala,dar despre asta mai tarziu.
...mai sunt suparat ca din intreaga lista din www map,doar doi posteaza constant...unul dintre ei fiind Zoso,cealalta ...Oana.Oameni buni,ce se intampla?

Mda...pai cam atat.Sincer nu vad ce as putea pregati pentru lectura de week-end.O sa meditez la asta.Cam atat si urati-mi succes la ultima zi din aceasta mizerabila saptamana.

Nimic nu mai conteaza...

Obosit,obosit si obosit ... and nothing else matters !



Apocalyptica-Nothing Else Matters...cover dupa Metallica...un cantec ce ma umple de pace.Auditie si vizionare placuta...

Why ?...

The wind was whispering unknown words,slowlymas the darkness of the night was fading.The cemetery looked peaceful...no sound,no living being,just the death flowing around.Suddenly,a crow came from nowhere,draw some circles in the air and landed on a tomb stone.It was the tomb of the first man ever burried in this graveyard.On his tomb stone was written:

"Benjamin Breeg ?-1969 " and just a word : Why?

There was no message ,no cry,just the "Why?" and the crow.
The gravedigger,who at that hour was usually standing outside on his old bench,watching that great yellow eye,which was the moon,was now sleeping in his kiosk.He usually enjoyed staying outside at this hour,because he could see a normal human being.Bruce Harper ,that was.Since his mother passed awat,one week ago,he would come everynight around dusk,when he was sure that Papa Het was left for good in Dreamworld.
Papa Het would not let him visit the cemetery ."It's bad for you" ,he said.So every nigh,Bruce would come,assuring himself that his father was asleep,went to the cemetery,kneeled-down before the tomb stone of Margaret Harper and stayed peaceful for a couple of minutes.
But tonight ,Bruce did not went directly near his mother.He could not help it,staring at the tomb stone of Benjamin Breeg on which was now written a message:

"Benjamin Breeg - Here lies a man about whom little is known"
The crow was still there,minding his own business.He looked careless as the boy was approaching.Then he flew away,as a hand went-up from the ground,gripped Bruce and pulled him down.
That happened so fast,that Bruce could only close his eyes and then open them again.He was now founding himself in a strange place,like a...living room.On a couch was this man,probably in his 50's .He stood up when Bruce looked at him.He invited the boy to sit and Bruce would not say no:
"I am Benjamin Breeg" the man said. " Now...
Let me tell you 'bout my life,
Let me tell you 'bout my dreams,
Let me tell you 'bout the things that happen, always real to me.
Let me tell you of my hope, of my need to reach the sky,
Let me take you on an awkward journey, let me tell you why."

And Bruce listened as Benjamin Breeg told his story.In his youth he decided to become a writer,a poet...But his work did not went well...He had not only a lack of words but a lack of food.
"So I sold my soul " he said ." I asked for words in exchange of my soul .And I got what I wanted ".
Breeg became popular between the literature papers.His poems were well written...shooking,morbid but they were pieces of art.Then someone discovered his secret.Hard to say how,but he was caught and killed...and finally sent to Hell.

"Why should these curses be laid upon me,
I won't be forgiven 'til I can break free,
What did I do to deserve all this guilt,
Pay for my sins, for the sale of my soul.

Demons are trapped all inside of my head,
My hopes have gone, reach for heaven from hell,
My sins are many, my guilt is too heavy,
The pressure of knowing of having what I now?

I'm able to see things, things that I don't wanna see,
The lies of a thousand souls weigh heavy down on me

I know they're crying for help reaching out
The burden of them will take me down as well
The sin of a thousand souls knocked out in vain
Reincarnate of me live again

Someone to save me,
Something to save me from myself
To bring salvation
To exorcise this hell! "

" I've chose you,Bruce ! " Breeg said scarly as the boy got three steps back.
"You will grant me the exist from Hell back to Earth,so I can live and breath.You shall remain in this furnal forever.
Bruce was shocked.Then he heard a strange noise coming from above.Someone was digging the tomb...Breeg gripped Bruce on his neck and started to chocke him.Bits of mud started to fall into the tomb as a shovel was making place...for an exit.The saver took Bruce on his hand as Breeg was trying to pull him back .
"Leave the boy alone,you devil ! " a voice muttered.
"Darn you !" Breeg screamed as he lost Bruce from his hands.
The boy was back on Earth .The gravedigger(who saved him) smiled to him in an ugly portrait.He was no man...rather a zombie.But he looked friendlier than Breeg.
"And you are ?..." Bruce asked.
"Ed the Head,at your service" he bound before the boy.
It was dawn...Sun was getting out again.
On the tomb stone was now written:

"Benjamin Breeg 1939-1969 - A poet,a painter and a man that sold his soul . Why?

THE END

A story inspired by the concept of Iron Maiden - The Reincarnation of Benjamin Breeg .

Stresul asta...

Ajung acasa , mananc , forum ,blog...cam e timpul sa scriu un nou articol...descopar ca nu am chef absolut deloc...joc vreo ora-o ora jumate PES 2008...reintru...parca zaresc un colt de inspiratie.Acum ca-l aud pe Sebastian Bach urland in boxe Monkey Business,si pe masura ce bat la tastatura...ma simt din ce in ce mai bine.Si totusi de ce a fost nevoie de PES ?...

...pentru ca zilele mele sunt un stres.Pentru majoritatea celor din clasa sunt.Deja nu se mai poate,deci e nevoie de o schimbare! Daca am nevoie de un joc stupid sa ma destind atunci chiar ca e grava situatia.Chestia e ca :
-la un oarecare consiliu al profesorilor,directoratul a cerut cadrelor didactice sa inceapa sa puna note.Si ia si da-i !Fiecare ora inseamna atentie maxima,concentrare...Deci nu se poate asa ceva.Lucrari , ascultari ,ascultari ,lucrari.Teme peste teme si langa temele alea avem alte teme.O tema aici,alta acolo...Vezi ca ne asculta acolo ba vezi ca aici. Nu mai putem !!!! Si urmeaza tezele.
-fiecare profesor crede ca materia lui este importanta.Poate ar trebui sa mai arunce o privire la inceputul catalogului sa vada profilul.Fir'ar sa fie,nu-mi trebuie nu-stiu-ce zeci de mii de teorii la fizica care se amesteca cu elemente de chimie,dar tot nu sunt la fel,fiindca radicalul din radicalul radicalului e nu-stiu-cat .Nu mai vreau nu-stiu-cate zeci de lectii la biologie,nu-mi pasa ce fel de teci au tesuturile lu'Peste...Nu mai suport gramatica aia terorista a Limbii Latine si nici miile de interpretari ale zecilor de critici asupra unei simple nuvele care are rol de relax,nu se subiect de disectie...nu ma faceti sa incep cu psihologia...

Mda...noroc cu orele de lb.engleza si sport...Ahhh si istorie !
Nu cred ca profesorii au de ce sa se simta revoltati cand mai izbucnim in crize de ras din neant.Avem doar 16 ani si creierul nostru nu mai suporta presiunea asta,de multe ori inutila.Stiam ca din Antichitate mersul la scoala era un privilegiu si eventual o bucurie...Acum e ca o slujba prost-platita si care ne mai si displace. Mos Craciun,vino naibii mai repede,si adu si niste zapada cu tine sa mai scapam de niste zile de scoala,fiindca am fi inzapeziti !

Cred ca nu am mai avut de mult un articol asa "ambiguo-psihico-nebunesc" ! De la ala cu "dragi colege si gardul " ...

PS.Inainte de a incheia,tin sa le urez celor doua colege cu 10 in test la istorie,Felicitari! (Na,ca v-am mentionat "pe blogu' meu" )

PSS.Pentru ca Regatele II s-au incheiat,voi incepe sa transcriu pentru week-end niste povestioare misto ,care le-am mai tot avut ca tema pe la engleza.Nu stiu cat or sa fie citite,fiind in english,dar totusi...sa fie acolo!

Mda...O seara,respectiv week-end placut !