andreeaandreea

2009-11-04T02:33:00.000-08:00

Si incercati sa cititi tot blogul daca tot intrati aici. welcome home sanitarium...gluma proasta...

2009-11-04T02:28:00.000-08:00

straight
broken heart
working on a little princess' gown
my voice starts to sound operatic
chocolate
having an affair with my two cats
someone rejected me again
he's an actor
and his name is
...........................
not important now.
my body is a temple
"fuck" is sweet , sacred perversion
only with the ones I love.
God bless Mr. R.T!( and I mean it!)

"You will find me if you want me in the garden...unless it's pouring down with rain..."

2009-06-11T11:38:00.000-07:00

my quiet, quiet garden where pills grow and birds die on their petals.
I'm waiting for you in my quiet, quiet garden
to show you the sky .
You can come with your music
I'll be there with my silence.
No wind, no dust, no rocks,
just small, small graves for
small, small thoughts
from far, far corners of my mind.
But...
You're already here-
the garden in my head.
but you don't talk to me.
but you don't look at me.
I give you my sky,
sky that's no regular , random blue.
And I see you under a tree,
you don't move
you don't say a word
you just stay there
and everything falls apart
behind you.

And you're waiting too...
but not for me

repost from somewhere else

2009-06-11T11:28:00.000-07:00

Entry for August 27, 2008: Some black ivy thrown on the sofa... some black coffee in bloom somewhere in this house... the garden is quiet. It's true... sometimes i think storm is about to come and those posters of a dead blonde seem so tragically cheap.

But my garden is quiet. So fuckin' quiet ... almost a goddamn mess. I love my coffee at 2 pm , I love my way of wasting words. Kinda' depressed. Kinda' looking for nothing. And storm is NOT about to come. This is my blog not a play by Chekhov. Damn seagull flying over my garden. Go away...
the fact is that... nothing has changed...absolutely nothing.

Fiere la comanda

2009-06-10T12:41:00.000-07:00

Se poate mai rau? Si mai rau? Sigur ca da ....
De fapt... de ce sa te mai stresezi?! De ce sa mai incerci sa imbunatatesti ceva , sa schimbi ceva?
Intra-n caruselul cu compromisuri , acopera-te cu mocirla si plictis pana ti-o intra si-n cur si macar stii o treaba...
Si david coverdale tot se miauna pe aici pe langa urechile mele...da' altceva nu-mi vine sa ascult...
When you're cryin' in the rain...When you're cryin' in the rain....When you're cryin' in the rain ...Cryin' in the raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaain......
Am chef sa ma "complain" in seara asta pentru ca viata mea " sucks" si pentru ca as intra la o hibernare de vara intr-un beci/ pivnita/ mormant cu aerisire...daca exista such thing as hibernare ...de vara...
M-am apucat de o a 2-a piesa...prima cica i-a placut lui afrim ( na! trebuie s-o spun ! am citit si eu o vorba buna de vreun an... daca a spus-o doar ca sa ma simt bine...f nasol din partea lui...but I fuckin' appreciate it anyway).
Inainte visam la Richard al III-lea ( de pomana oricum...). Acum cred c-as face si o reclama la pasta de dinti. Ain't that cute?! But it's wrong...De pomana oricum ...mi-am stricat dintii de atata scrasnit ...
Nu.Nici o reclama. La nimic. Poate la un rahat uscat. " Numai bun de ros si de inghitit! Indrazniti... altii va baga atatea si atatea pe gat...Un rahat in plus... Ce conteaza?! " Mda...Coming to a theatre near you.
Vroiam sa merg la o piesa . Master Will again... cu o distributie feminina...in totalitate... Marele regizor vorbeste pe la televizor de cat de scarba ii fac noile generatii de actori ( cei din facultatile particulare si cei care nu au recomandari ... mai ales genetice) . In alte interviuri in care domnul regizor e pupat in cur si periat intr-un mare stil, se vorbeste de marele ajutor pe care el si altii ca el il dau tinerilor( tinerei generatii- papusile astea care viermuiesc aiurea)... dar de castingurile lui afla " cine trebuie".Fraierii mai tinerei afla dupa. Si de recomandari...si de preferinte...
da' el ii da inainte cu " tineretul" ... bun. gata cu barfa asta cam generalizata...
la noi in industria asta " teatrala" e ca-n nisipurile miscatoare...cu cat te zbati mai mult cu atat te afunzi mai rau...
back to my play...pe care unii o vor citi cu o ingaduinta oribil de ingaduitoare iar altii se vor eschiva teribil si vor uita de mine din momentul in care mi-au notat numarul de telefon.
"dizident...fii dizident"....mda...I'll keep that in mind.

2009-06-09T09:47:00.000-07:00

La insistenţele fărâmei
de om din mine
m-am mutilat îndelung ,
până când într-o zi
am devenit o scrisoare anonimă-
-expediată conştiinţei colective,
pierdută-n respiraţia-ntretăiată
a unei societăţi
genial siluite
de propriul mecanism.
De atunci fiecare rând din mine arde...
rece, totuşi,
la gândul unei plăceri gratuite.

"Bang bang shoot'em up, the party never ends"

2009-06-06T11:41:00.000-07:00

Killed the depressed fairy. Jobless.Almost broke. Free at last. Listening to some shitty 80's glam rock/metal/whatever. Dancing around.Drinking some awful apple juice.

"I'm alive anyway..."

2009-06-02T07:18:00.000-07:00

And The Depressed Fairy was singing " Totul e de decor... Sa traiesc e sa mor/ Dati-mi un topor..."
She was in a bus to that "wonderfully" fucked up place called Pipera. The witch was waiting there, in the black suitcase, already in a pipera closet.
After almost 30 minutes, the bus stopped somewhere. The Fairy took another bus. And after this one stopped somewhere else, she took another bus. This bus stopped at the end of a forest.
In the bus stop there were some hungry, tail-wagging doggies, really happy to have guests.
"Oh...is it really her?! The Depressed Fairy that goes to work by bus/ subway, eats small children and barks at the moon? We have a god damn trendy moon here in Pipera! Bark with us sister!"
" Some other time, pal!" She grinned to the doggies. And the doggies grinned back and started following her.
A light wind was poetically going through the Pipera bushes and poetically drying the doggies ' tongues.
And the doggies were singing to The Depressed Fairy:
" How many roads must a dog walk down / Before you call him a dog? / Yes, how many bushes must a dog sniff every day / Before you call him a dog ? / The answer my friend is tongue in the wind/ The answer is tongue in the wind..."
After a while they got bored and stopped following her.
After a while she received a phone call. She was late. And the witch wouldn't come out of the closet without her.
Finally she arrived at the address she was told to but... no sign of party people. She "rang the bell" and ...
" Who is it ?"
" I came for the party . I'm the witch...."
" What party?! "
" You know...the party with the good fairies and the party pooper witch..."
And all of a sudden a pack of dogs appeared running and barking towards The Depressed Fairy.
" Fuck! Please let me in ...just for a second...."
" There 's no god damn party here!!!!"
" Pleeeaaase... There are some dogs running towards me...they seem kinda angry...PLEASE OPEN THIS GOD DAMN GATE!"
" What the fuck do I care?! "
And the dogs were running and barking... barking and running....
" JUST A SECOND, A MINUTE!!!!"
"FUCK OFF!"
And the dogs stopped. She stood still, didn't say a word.
......
..................................
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
They started wagging their tails and left.
The Depressed Fairy was yellow and a little bit green. She was already thinking of spending the night in the emergency room.
That wasn't the right address. No shit...
So she had to go and free the poor witch who was screaming and jumping around in a closet in Pipera....

"I'm awake anyway..."

2009-05-28T11:45:00.000-07:00

Who's afraid of The Depressed Fairy? Not as bipolar as Virginia Woolf though.
The Depressed Fairy is a nice , pink/blue/yellow animal that wears plastic flowers in her hair, eats small children and barks at the moon. Some of you may know her. She goes to work by bus/subway. If you see this creature waiting in some bus stop/station please do not panic, do not call the police. Just feel a little bit sorry for her. It's more than enough.
She sometimes carries a black suitcase in which she keeps a witch. The small children hate the witch. The witch fears the small children. They are violent and cruel when it comes to witches. In these cases ''childhood'' is a synonym for ''witch hunt''.
(to be continued)