The Boy That Cried

A tear can be more then enough...

I was told since I can remember that family is supposed to be love, support, trust and happiness. And a home should be a place where there are no mistakes and there's always forgiveness and a warm meal that comes along with the embrace of feeling safety at any time. I believed in this idea and I still do, since a family should be all that and more, even if families differ and have their different religious beliefs or traditions, no matter how broken it is a family and a home should be the same thing for everyone. I might be naive and one of the biggest fools you're reading about. But we all wish that what I believe would be true for each and every case, even though we all know it's impossible and it's most likely just a lie we use to make ourselves feel better. As I was growing up I didn't understand what was happening around me or why and I couldn't care less since my promise was being kept. But as time passed cracks started to show up and the things I didn't care about and didn't know about started to show little by little, and my precious world started to be shaken, but I wasn't scared I knew problems would occur, I knew the world wasn't perfect it was only bigger then me, but I also knew the fact that I was growing and the world would get smaller and I was right. As we moved from a place with many dear people to me to a place where we were just a few, that was the first time I was told that this is my home and in this very place whatever happens I will be safe and I will have my place here. And the fact that our family should trust each other and we shouldn't lie when we're in a family. My dream became reality, I was finally home, my first home and the only home I knew

I was afraid as things flew around the house and screams were all I was hearing. Shouts of hate were all around me, I couldn't understand why was this happening and how can this be reality, when I was promised a loving family and a paradise just for being their son. As my father threw everything he could grasp in sight in his madness, the slurs that were said that night I still can remember them clear as the light from the summer sun. After a while all calmed down while the tears were just rushing on my mothers face and my brother was just oblivious to what was happening. The next day everything went back to normal like nothing happened, I couldn't grasp the situation, but I didn't care since my home was still standing and for that alone I was happy. A few days later while I just fell asleep I just heard a shout and a slur, it was happening again. He just came woke me up screamed at me and for some reason just threw me at the wall while telling me I'm a worthless piece of shit. I don't know what I did wrong or why I was punished for something, but everything was hurting. I couldn't get up from the bed as I heard my mother screaming and he insulting her over and over again. In the end I couldn't hear or see anything, I just fainted. The next morning I woke up and went to school, on my way to school my nose started bleeding, that never happened to me before. I was scared I didn't know why all that was happening. The same night, he came and started screaming again, insulting me and my mother, he started throwing the food around as he hit me with a plate and mother with a jar. I was petrified, what was I to do or try to help her and myself in this situation? When suddenly he got up from the table took a knife ripped mother's clothes while insulting her, I started pulling him, but I didn't have any power to actually do anything. He just looked at my mother and said "If you dare take this fucking knife out of this wall I am gonna fucking brake you! Now give me something to fucking eat.". I just went and hid under the blankets helpless, scared and scared. All this became a habit for him and a very cruel punishment for my home and what I could call a safe place to be.

In the end, the only thing that changed until this day is the fact that I am now seeking someone to build that home with, and now that I burned down my false and ruined home. I really do hope I can find another place and someone to build a home with.

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Observer

"This world is a giant circus, and I have front row seats to the show" - George Carlin

I myself like to think of my actual job as an observer. Granted this job was harder in the past, but now I have no limitation to the information I can get. I am up to date with events, discoveries, trends, technology, politics, social issues, books, music, movies, TV shows, the whole internet. So this job of being a diligent observer is easier with the help of my dear friend the internet. And I don't mean this in a creepy stalker way, but more in a critical approach to everything kind of way. I just sit around observe you and what's going on, and how people change trends, ideologies, behaviors and how they have a hypocritical and often ignorant and selfish way of looking at things. And now after so many years of observing you could say I became pretty decent at this job, but you see, here's the problem with the job of an observer, you just sit observe in silence. And this is the worst part of the job the silence, not being able to speak out, because it's always the observer who talks crazy. But as an observer no one listens to you, you do not exist or matter to the one you speak at or about. Which is nothing more than ironic in itself, an observer that wants to speak but isn't heard. I can see why this will never work, but the turmoil inside of an observer is hard to pinpoint. It could be the ideas floating in his brain constantly fighting and working towards completion, it could be the willingness to scream STOP! or please don't do that anymore. This can be nothing more than torture if the observer feels, cares, loves or has any desire to do something, especially when they chose this themselves and society puts them back in their place any time they try to speak up.

But that's not the beauty of an observer, but just the eye that he has for anything, everything, his curious nature, his perception and way of detecting hidden things throughout small lines of dialogue and small gestures. The observer has the job of being awed by everything, the truth, the lies, the bad, the good and the ugly. He must find sense and sensibility in everyone and everything, he must understand everyone and watch over everyone. No matter their size or status, their brilliant ideas and minds or stupidity, everyone is worth equal in his eyes. But one thing I know about the observer nothing beats beauty, the beauty of a mind, of a person, animal, nature or universe. Seeing as chaos creates everything and each and every one of us, the power that holds the universe to help us exist and be. And the way we repay the universe back makes no sense to an observer, through hate, stupidity, envy, loathing, selfishness. Brings darkness, darkness that isn't brought by the universe, but which we create. Thus the sadness of a observer, when he sees the beauty and potential, he sees destruction brought by the ones he sees the most potential in being beautiful. Which is exactly why he has this journal of every thought, every hope, showing people every wrong move they make and shows them that there is another way, I have heard only stories of such a journal, even thought I myself am an observer. But I might dare to some day find it and learn from it myself.

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Finding a step to step on

I have a problem, I am stuck again. It's disturbing me to the core.

I have this problem, you see. Where I know what I am supposed to do, yet all of my being says I have to be and do otherwise. This inability to focus and do, frustrates me. In the need for fresh air and something new, I look towards nowhere. It hurts and it's bad, when you take steps trying to keep your morals in checks. Yet getting wind blown in your face and a harsh tone whistling with it. As I am stuck in this dammed routine that bores the fuck out of me. Trying to break out, I act like a child in need for attention, when no one bothers and no one cares to listen to my unbridled thoughts. Yet that wouldn't be my problem, as much as no one cares to understand where it all comes from and why. So I struggles with my thoughts and process as I try to evolve and do something else, when I have no avenue of doing what I wish for. Just as much as I am afraid to take the next step, knowing what awaits me. So I try to find a comfortable soothing place to understand myself and work towards my next place to be. Yet if it was easy, everyone would do it. So I try to keep it simple, keep it safe, but not too far from damnation. 

They say that making the first step towards your dream is all that matters, yet when you take the second and third. You see that no one moves an inch to what you are trying to do, scares me, it would scare you too. So you try to find quick plan b's and c's and so on and so forth you try and go. But to where? When you fight for your voice, but all you get is a nuisance to deal with.

They say that legends are those that do the extraordinary, but when your appearance is ordinary, your complex simple and your ideas have the appearance of sticking in the ordinary, people do not look at you. It's like trying to fight the wind by pissing against it. You're the moron that's going to have to explain to people why you're wet and ashamed for what you tried to do. So when you swear it won't happen again, you start building walls around, a roof over your head. The result is the same, you're doing what everyone's doing, and quite soon, you're up in your ass. Having lost the touch with the real world and living in a fantasy. You became what many are, all that genius lost, all because now you're full of shit.

So what can one do to avoid all this? Well, again... They say that one must take the bull by the horns, must take life head on, must take it as it is and face it all. But as I am here, there's nothing to take on. I have to go around and sucker punch the world in the nards in order to get some attention. Attention usually greeted by backlash and fury. Which would be fine, if it weren't for the fact that it just stops to that backlash.

Here I stand, angry, flustered, trapped and with my mind in a bind as I try to find a way to unwind.

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Belief

Wish upon

A star?

I want to, believe me. I want to believe that humans are beautiful, that we all can live in peace and that we can prosper to something greater. And I'd love us to do that, to become something that we can be proud of. A world without armed conflict, without poverty, with manners, with some thought and with kindness. But the truth is, I'm never going to see that. I'm never even going to make a few people believe in this. Because people will never have enough belief in what we can do, in what we can become. And this is rather sad...

I wish I wouldn't hate people, but their absolute lack of behaviour, their rudeness, their thoughtless actions, their lack of empathy. It makes me angry. I can't stand it. The hypocrisy of it all... It's too much. In a world where we have free access to all the information we have, in a world where if you took a second to look around, you'd see how you should change to make an impact. We keep doing the same shit over and over again. How? How can I excuse you for those actions? When you act high and mighty, yet you fail at it yourself? How is this even possible? Yet you ask me for something more, when you can't even do the little I do for you... That 'hello', 'good night', 'have a nice day'... If you can't do at least that... Why should I care for anything else from you?

This is the part where instead of bitching, I'm giving you an alternative, a solution. Because I still believe in the world that was described at the beginning of this post. So, if you at any point didn't say a 'hello', 'please', 'thank you', or if you acted rude, were a cunt or attacked someone for no reason... Stop it, take a fucking second to think about what you're saying or how you are acting. If you for some reason can't, go to therapy, get help, talk to your friends about this. Or find new friends if they are the problem. If you want to help your friends, send them this link.

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My Motivation

I believe that everyone has some motivation when it comes to their choice in acting a certain way, so here are mine.

We all want something, we all have desires. Things we don't agree with or want to change, something that might bothers us or see unfit for the world that we live in. Or just maybe there are things that stand in our way, in what we want and thing we ought to achieve. So we tear through others, we rig the system in our favor, we manipulate others to achieve our own goal and happiness. What a sad, pathetic thing to do. While for some this might seem as a sign of power and determination, I see it as a move of a coward that has no dignity. Yet I'm not one to talk, I can't. This whole thing about being powerful without a righteous claim to it, only by the law of the jungle seems unfit. Especially for the species that regards itself to be intelligent, sociable and above all else. So then, what is my motivation? What do I desire? What do I want to achieve? How do I want to achieve it?

My motivation is freedom, and I am not talking about the freedom that any citizen thinks he has in a democratic country. I am talking about doing whatever I want and affording whatever I desire, not being held down and held back by anything. I want to be able. This might sound crazy since I have no disability, and people would interpret things in such way that they can find something inherently wrong with anything. As for the other two questions, the answer is pretty simple. I want a better world, I want better education for everyone. I want a better quality of life, I want equality, I want more stability and more thoughtful people. And for the how, well that's a bit more complicated.

I want to write, to continue writing. I want to publish as many books as I can and write them all in a week if possible. Yet here we have the first problem, I cannot do that. I work because I have to work, I study because I have to study, I have to do these things that keep me trapped from what I want to do full time and renounce the rest. So thus my motivation and what do I desire becomes much more clearer. As to why I want what I want to achieve, the motive is simple enough. I'm an idealist, not to be confused with a perfectionist, a perfectionist will do everything in their power to make it as it was asked or as it is supposed to be in the system that is in place. An idealist on the other hand is someone that tries to find ways to improve the environment around him and for others, always in search for an ideal. So in order to do what I want to achieve, I want to give people other options, I want them to think, to see outside the box. Even if I am prone to failure from the very beginning, due to the modern human's mindset. I want others to be free, like I want to be free, I don't wish others to crumble at my feet. I want to give others like me the same chance and inspire them to take it and push ahead. 

I am not a coward nor am I brave, I just might be stupid enough to try and do something else. This dude does not want to abide.

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I Envy

We all envy, more or less. Not everyone's admitting to it, but we all do it.

Even I envy, but I would never envy people that are truly intelligent and exceptional or gifted and talented or people that work honestly to get to their dream. I could never envy those type of people, if I would, I would probably hate myself for it. And even so why would I envy them? For being gifted, intelligent, beautiful, talented or hard working. Somewhere or somehow they were lucky enough that their genetic code developed a great person and I can't envy that, because all I want to do is cheer them on. But like I said, I do envy, because I'm no exception to the rule. And how can I not envy? How can I not be angry? But you surely ask yourself who is it that I'm envious about? Well, you see, I envy the stupid, I envy the ignorant, seeing them smile with no problems at all, doing whatever they are told. I envy them for not asking questions and annoying everyone, I envy the fact that they don't have a consciousness and they just make mistakes with no regrets. I envy this power they have to live with no regard to others soul or inconvenience or making decisions with no information and by the end getting free of consequences for their mistakes. How can I not envy something like that, I wish I was stupid and live just like them, but I just simply can't enjoy the heart break or suffering of others so let's see who are the others.

Well I envy the rich man/woman that didn't do anything to ear the wealth, I envy and hate him, for not working for his money and yet he gets to enjoy life like he worked for generations. I hate that he's proud like a lion after fucking a horde of females, even though all he did was masturbate to 80 gigs of porn. His high and mighty even though he doesn't know how to raise a finger, how can I not envy someone that lives on clouds with no one bothering him? I also envy the douchebag/whore. that uses people for their own favor, I mean fucking with people just to get money or just because you thought it was funny. Man, I wish I could do that, to have no regard for someone else and just go ahead and create more whores or douchebags. Or make them feel guilty or hate themselves, I wish I could do that. To fuck endlessly, now why wouldn't I envy a douchebag/whore?

And last but not least I envy the liar, the man that speaks fairy tales and makes people believe in them. This is the one I envy the most, the one that lies and never get's caught. He's the one that's telling you, you're free, but on the other hand you got to pay off your fee. How can I not envy a man that with a straight face can sell you, your own person and value, and tells you that it was your own decision, when you signed you agreed that you're no longer free. The person that makes slavery sound okay, and freedom sound like terrorism and pain. I envy the liar, I envy him the most, he controls the stupid, the douchebag, the rich and the poor. But mostly I envy him because he enslaved the brave and the bold. Those exceptionally intelligent, those beautiful and gifted, and lastly those that don't deserve it the most, those hard working are those that are losing the most. I envy all of the above, I cannot help it, who would've thought that I could envy almost everyone in this world? But just like I envy them, someone out there is envious of me, and why shouldn't they be? We all envy by our standards, from what we would like, to what we would do if we were them.

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Trapped: Autumn Unofficial Release

Every journey begins somewhere...

Trapped: Autumn, a book I didn’t think it would make the light of day. Something I didn’t think was possible, to write and publish a book all in under a month. The story is based on real life events and conversations, real people and situations. A simple tale that was turned into a mix of grounded reality and a mythological tale that was used to be told. A mixture in styles between the classical way of writing and telling a story, and post-modern ideas with modern language. The choice of taking the characters from a real place comes from the idea of transcribing reality onto paper and grounding the work. The same goes for the dialogue and situations, considering the fact that reality is strange and quirky why not use it? As for why I mixed the situations with mythology, I needed a reason to explain why John, the main character, was going through the motion of the story. Yet the more I wrote the story, the more I fell in love with this idea of why deities are taking shelter on Earth. Something I still want to explore. To the same point, I thought that today lacks this type of literature. As in gods or anything mythical for that reason. Something that influenced the writing style, opting for a more classic style in that regard. The sort of idea of a Shakespearean play set in today’s world, with today’s morals and standards. To bring comparison to what it can be interpreted as lack of progress over the many years that have passed. Which is why this book has references, ideas and what I like to call little gems hidden from the very first words of the preface until the last word of the book. Again, something with which the reader would have to be very careful, knowledgeable, patient when reading the book. In the end everything is connected and has a purpose and some sort of sense. That is why I entrusted the reader that once he steps into this world, he will be put to observe like an omniscient god the story that unfolds in front of his eyes, and at that understand the story itself.

What should one expect from this mix styles? Fairly easy, not a lot of description for the characters. Since I wanted the story and characters to be relatable and for the reader to place the action wherever he wants. It could be a space epic that has a college with a campus, for what the reader might imagine. No narration, since everything one will read in this book will be thoughts and dialogues. And since the reader is observing thoughts and dialogues they are unfiltered, raw, uncensored and pure. Most times messy, weird, riddled with mistakes and not always making any sense, if the reader doesn’t pay attention. You could say that this book even punishes the reader by not paying attention to what is said, thought or done. Since nothing is said, done or thought without a point or a payoff later on.

What’s the story about is the hardest question one can ask me without spoiling it. In short it’s the tagline of the book. About the man, the myth and the once upon a time. Like I mentioned before, this book is a mix of classic literature, mythology, postmodern ideology, immature philosophy and all for a weird fairy tale with mature language. But to go in a bit of detail about the book, the story takes place around a freshman in college. A student that asks too many questions, has too many opinions, thinks a bit too much and has a tendency to self-destruct for educational purposes. Something that does not sit well with his friends or his girlfriend, many times being categorized as a weird guy. Just like his tendency to arrive exactly on time or to be late, yet never early. As such he is put to observe his own behavior, being detached from his own body, what would his opinion of his own actions and thoughts be? If he was to see himself like a stranger and judge himself like he judges strangers. Not only that, but while doing so he is put to task by a force he can’t explain or see. Especially for him to understand what is happening is nearly impossible. Having such a crisis on his hands while trying to solve two mysteries, is not an easy task to fulfill.

About the author, well, I’m twenty six years of age. I love classical music, rock, any music that is either fun or has some actual meaning in its lyrics. A former student at the College of Literature in Cluj-Napoca, Romania with a Major in English and Minor in Japanese. Currently, besides writing short stories on this blog and writing books, I also work in retail at a liquor store with twelve hour shifts.

If there is something I believe in, it’s the fact that everything can be joked about. There is nothing in this world that can’t be joked about or made fun of. Since every experience is something to learn from, making a joke about it, can only help in the end. As long as you take the lesson with you further down the road. If I had any inspirations? Well, Shakespeare inspired me in only one aspect, when it comes to this book that people need to be reminded of what they are. Just like South Park reminds provides us with the best social commentary there is. Through crude language and exaggeration, South Park on the weekly awes me that is why I used this sort of vulgar language in this book. George Carlin would be another one, considering that even today many of his ideas still float inside my head. Like for example “Don’t bullshit, there’s enough bullshit as is in this world”, to this I hold near and dear.

When it comes to any other influences, there would be the music I was listening while writing the book. Such as classical music and rock, there are twenty three songs I listened to while writing the book. If you search on YouTube “Trapped: Autumn the music behind the book” you will find the complete set of songs. How music influenced my work? It helped me keep a certain tone to the book, listening to music helped me keep the world tighter and the ideas linear. Then there is the title, which itself is a reference to the last album of the band HIM, Trapped in Autumn. But more precisely it would be to the song Into the night, which is constantly paraded throughout the book.

If I were to describe my own style of writing, it would be personal. As in everything I write feels intimate, real, uncensored and unfiltered. With a mixture of everything that is, plus something new. Something that is has substance, emotion and thought put behind every word.

My last word would be the fact that I look forward for people to read Trapped: Autumn, to look forward to my future books. And I hope that I gave them something to think about, get attached to and want more of.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XJQ1C15

Tell Me

No matter how many breaths did you take you still can't breathe...

Every step matters, even if you make a right, or wrong decision. The path that defines you remains, the promises will chase you like the past, the rumors, the way you've been. Trying to escape by closing yourself down to nothing, until the memory of you in the mind of the persons you know will become nothing. All but a myth, with a question mark on your existence in their memories.

The shadow you let on, the people you know will disappear, and the impact on them will fade away. Just as they will remember you vaguely. But as you close yourself down, hold on to the dreams you once had... Prepare your journey to a whole new level that you didn't had the courage to make your way towards. As you do you start to open up again, to regenerate, the person you are in a better version. Something new even for you. Starting to learn yourself again. The person you are, once is dead and long gone. It is time for you to discover what you can do, to reach further than you've ever imagined.

There is a fire inside this heart and a riot about to explode into flames. Trying to save the best from what I've been. I ask myself if I can kill to save a person, to save myself, to prove I'm right. Or let everything burn to ashes just because I'm something new? The drug of the past, dream I had to let it go, to save a life, a dream I had and let it all burn.

With every breath I took, and how many a night I'd lay wide awake, on the sound of the poison rain. The heart started to burn from the pain that poisoned my blood. In the touch of a delusion called a dream of sorrow. Escaping the past in the heartbeat of the damned. Sweet dream of the corner I need to be in to make sens of this world. Facing the mistakes, the past turning into something more... What I was before, am no more, stopped living a beautiful lie, a lie that torn down the man I wanted to be.

With nowhere to go, at nights fire waking up from a nightmare. Starting a war against the world that took me down. I promise that I made, the love I had I gave it up, just to make my own way from the past path and loves lost. Finding a new way of life, with a different look in the eyes, different in touch. Taking the mess to a new order of the life, of a new world that I started building.

Let the beautiful lie called past fade away into a corner of your mind.

Originally Published on 7.11.2012

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Simple Life

When rebuilding isn't working and the world scares you with every step. Life gives you a surprise and shows you again that at the end, there might be something in for you.

At times the depth of the darkness that surrounds the world, through it a blink of a light passes you by. You have two choices, grabbing in it and holding onto it close, so that you may break through, or make your own way out of there .At this point, I chose to do nothing. In my own way, feeling like I don't deserve it yet, needing to grow up more. Be more mature, even my eyes tell me I can go on, I feel there is something missing that I did not learn yet.

Afraid, surprising and new, this three words are not in my dictionary anymore. As nothing can scare me anymore, I felt like I've seen everything. But that doesn't mean I know everything, as everything is possible. Any given thing imagined by mankind can be invented in just a blink of an eye. And from a simple person from the street of your city can become in just minutes billionaires, general mangers with or without universities. And all you need is a bit of wit with some life lessons or maturity. I know it because I was there, above every friend or person that thought they were better than me. But even if you succeed or not, the idea is you can become or be whoever you want.

I've seen maybe too many things, heard too much, been through too much. But that's called life and that's why we live to hear, see, feel and go through it all. You don't have to believe in God, Allah or someone else but yourself to get where you want to be. You have no idea what you are capable of creating. Every dream you have, write it down and make it happen.

Showing the world surrounding you what it means to be you and how you manage it,work it,make it happen. If the world isn't the best of you, set it on fire make it ashes and rebuild it. Make it something new, just for your dreams and fulfillment. As your step burns the cold of hearts of the world, your eyes calm the storm that hits everyone around you. Creating life with your words and building a world with a touch of your hand. Something that should heal everything you had in the past and clear the future.

Even if every plan or dream is crushed by the outside universe that is called the real cruel world. Do not stop dreaming, don't let them kill you inside, destroy you. Crush them with your will, power, words and let them see what you can do. By simply believing in one idea, the one thing you can't touch, attack or see. The one thing that can make people clear your path, the idea of a dream that you will succeed at.

One word at the right time can move the world, one action at the right time can make the whole universe clear your path.

Originally published on 7.11.2012

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Stories

Some stories are to be kept secret, some are to be forgotten, and some are to be kept and lived with forever.

Walking in the shadows of a night through the cold rain. Seeing at every corner everything you desire, the memories begin to come back to life. As the wound you had opens up, it starts to hurt so badly. There is nothing you can do. Raising your head in the rain, you start to open up. You let everything out, every tear, every bit of pain left inside you. Time passes, you start to get forgotten by everyone you ever knew. The path clears up and you are given another chance to be free. Start everything from the ground up.

With no one left by your side. and no one to stay in your way. The journey to a new world began. A place that you never thought was there, brand new people, brand new things to explore. Watching and observing all by myself, this new world that has opened up. With fear and excitement in the eyes, making the first steps to something unknown.

Almost nothing left, no more love, no more passion, no more trust in the unknown. Growing and ageing through the shadows of everyone around me. Looking in the mirror, my eyes, all I see are the closed doors, every mistake, the pain, the loneliness, the the hell that I was given to go through. The depth of the black spreads as the blue disappears.

Every photograph you had, is like a knife in your back, a wound to be reopened. Lost in ideas and dreams of vain, the lost moments that made you grew up, made you wiser. Starting to realize that is better to feel something, rather than nothing. And if life gives you nothing, but the worst there could be for you, then I rather feel pain then nothing at all.

Men, women, human or not, the mirror in everyone's eyes betrays what you pretend to be. The dreams that were crushed by others and taken from you, makes you weaker. If you don't know how to use it for you benefit, that is. The nights depth gets stronger and stronger, with nothing on what once was a black pitch sky with stars and a bright moon. In the end, the worst comes out of everyone.

Your eyes tell the truth, your story is for you to know, as the lesson is to be learned.

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Originally published on 28.10.2012.