E L L A V A N G A R D E

on particles and breathing sources

ellavangarde — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 22:42:13 +0000

you’re nothing less than my indispensable cough. I tried to eradicate you..and your absence has brought me mental misery. well, yes, one can perceive this as the you disease.

imagine people now. not you. you’re off the record : cause. action. reaction. effect. defect.

when you experience people, you realize they are nothing less than fragile breathing sources. their frailty is shattered porcelain on floors. crystal floors. once shattered the object of your desire is dysfunctional.

I’ve starting writing stuff. about people. and their perceptions. their perceptions seen as particles that work only on human minds. and then, after a while, I’ve stopped. from writing. they continued their existence.

I’ll soon wake up now. it’s almost 6 o’clock. it’s time for lucidity. at this hours, in this very particular spot, you’ve been missed the most. my cough, my guilty plague..

On music

ellavangarde — Sat, 05 Nov 2011 09:03:15 +0000

I won’t say anything about my fantastic talent as a singer. I don’t consider myself gifted. I glorify my failing. I obey. Since I gave up on compact cassettes I started to hear the stream of sound. Free spirited. First, there’s the silence. In order to hear the music without the blur of noise, you must understand the shapeless sound of silence.

On writing

ellavangarde — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 21:30:32 +0000

These days made me think and rethink the idea of exquisiteness. My decision starting this point is to fuck creatively every idea . Lucid or absentminded. I’m sure that the conceptual nonsense that torments my brains over and over, will eventually overcome procrastination.

I said it.

On overrating

ellavangarde — Tue, 01 Nov 2011 22:18:20 +0000

My overrated dreams offend you. Your casual way of wearing me under your cotton shirt transform me in a silent monster. I’m the monster always aware of your mistakes, misleads and wrong perceptions. I think I know you, you said. I think you know me too, I silently replied..

p.s. rethink me please

Contrafler

ellavangarde — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 05:53:04 +0000

Nu inteleg de ce
Si daca ajung sa inteleg de ce, nu inteleg cum
Interpretez
Lucruri simple si fara fler
Ca pesimistii
Desi nu sunt pesimista
Si nici n-am fost in ultimii doi-trei ani.
Sunt o versiune docila
de fiinta umana cu jumatate de retina lipsa
de ce
Pentru ca societatea-i atat de tampita
Si respira anost
Si pielea-mi e varza de atata plafonare
M-am saturat de random si whatever si alte englezisme constante
Un nou etalon
Ce naste victoriosi fara glorie
Si da, aveti dreptate
Sunt lucruri around ce nu trebuie privite la modul serios
ci transparent si total la-ntamplare
Pentru ca marea asta de chestii subtile
E pentru altii. Mult mai cititi. Si vizionari. Ce gandesc diferit.

Spleen

ellavangarde — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 14:35:31 +0000

“les amours imaginaires” in care ne-nvartim ca niste clepsidre scorojite

oamenii promit si oamenii se dezmint de ceea promit

un fel de monstri ce zac tacuti in noi

pe care ii crestem sub clame de haine pe sarma

ne amintim de o noapte sau doua sau cine mai sta sa le numere

irepetabile si pline de suspans.

peretele zbiara

nu stiu incotro sau de ce sau cui,

perete prosop

ce sterge sudoarea unei veri bolnave,

asudam patologic, in alter-paturi, pe alter- strazi, lipiti de perete,

cu tigarile lipite si ganduri lesinate pe sarma,

cu fata morgana pe retina,

beti de efort sau lumina sau cine mai da importanta.

Verlaine, zace putred,

si pielea isi schimba culoarea,

ploua cu nomenclatura. atat…

azi mi-ascut iar simturile

si-ti spun

(nu) te vreau.

cand ti-e somn

ellavangarde — Sat, 25 Jun 2011 08:22:39 +0000

secundarul ticaie. tangential. irelevant daca cineva ii mai acorda sau nu atentie.

Mă bucur sincer și vântul îmi furnică pielea…c-am nimerit pe un fundal cârpit. Consternare. O să plutesc azi într-o decomplicare progresivă. Crezi că nu știu ce spun? Crezi prost. Consultă gustul de pahar. O să-ți macine dinții. O să înțelegi în cele din urmă că sunt omul care caută să învețe ceva din fiecare experiență și că nu mă poți agăța în cuierul lucrurilor obișnuite. Și acum întreb…sir, pardon sir, where’s the experience we’re crawling for?

i traffic in fiction. i do not traffic in lies

ellavangarde — Tue, 07 Jun 2011 01:42:43 +0000

i’m breathing your predictableness. i’m choking, i’m mocking my own mascara. my eyelids and my heart. i’ve become what i had never wanted. unsecured. fuck your perception. you know why i refuse it? because it’ s mediocre. you will chew mediocrity and it’ll be your only food supply. you can’t overcome it. the motion of comfort and having your food done somewhere around 3 in the afternoon, trying to build your dreams by reading stuff about bored individuals that succeed but had never known how to keep happiness (1) , going to bed at midnight and craping around 9 in the morning, listening to the same radio station while driving..some of the ultimate redundant mediocre habits. basic analyses upon human behavior. case study: you.

(1) happiness is when you live life and not write about it. once you start writing, the thing that governates you is the syndrome of nostalgia – something that once brought you emotions of any kind.

–

ellavangarde — Mon, 30 May 2011 06:36:24 +0000

esti random. erai mai putin random atunci cand nu te stiam aproape deloc. atunci ne permiteam suspendarea vocilor nocturne. tot prin telefon. atunci zambeam. si vedeam punctele comune. te pierzi. nu in detalii. in peisajul general. al corporatistilor aboliti de visuri si aspiratii. cu putin noroc, o sa iti fie de ajutor. in primii 3-5 ani. ti-as sugera niste carti de beletristica. sunt fundamentale. ca sa intelegi visurile oamenilor. alora umani. la aia ma refer. ca mai e si categoria robotilor de succes. pe care ii idolatrizezi. oamenii sunt o experienta in sine. avem nevoie de experiente mai mult decat avem nevoie de referinte. ar fi trebuit sa intelegi asta pana acum.

i appreciate things. i just don’t talk about them.

ellavangarde — Mon, 16 May 2011 22:22:59 +0000

mandatory, oamenii sunt passing by. they come, say hello and then, they leave. remind me of the constant change of seasons.

mi-amintesc de ziua in care mi-ai dat piesa asta. si mi-ai spus ca sunt o proiectie a verii. ma gandesc cum “se lasa noaptea in fotografii”, niste pelicule- proiectii pe care noi nu le avem. nici nu stiu daca o sa le avem. ma gandesc la responsabilitati, la oamenii din jurul nostru si la lucrurile marunte pe care dintr-o copilarie prosteasca ajung sa nu le apreciez. imi pare rau, poate lasa senzatia de shallowness. nu sunt asa. i appreciate things. i just don’t talk about them. ma gandesc la frica si inradacinarea in frica. la tunelul asta nevrotic de lung si nesiguranta in care ajungem sa ne pierdem. recunosc. sunt roasa de frica atunci cand trebuie sa vorbesc cu si despre oameni la care ma raportez in mod real[ sunt putini astia]. ii plasez pe-un piedestal si singuri plonjeaza in mod sinucidas jos. cei mai multi.

p.s. oamenii respira tacut si in tacere. cateodata.