How much can a man suffer for love?
I don't know. All I know is that suffering is never easy. And if you keep pushing forward you might not like where you end up and realize you can't go back.
What do you do then?
When moving forward pushes the dagger deeper into your heart, staying still is nothing but waiting until you bleed yourself dry and moving back is no longer an option you can only toss one coin and hope for a miracle. Hope that the one single coin toss can bring about the fortune of guiding you towards the right path. Hope that the landing of the coin will echo towards the light of salvation and like the only toll of a solitary bell ringing down valleys as empty as your soul you will find the music inside and upon it build the strength to push through.
But what if your loved one is actually dragging you back without a reason? What if selfishness mistaken for caring  will weigh you back into this hopeless situation?
Will you keep finding the strength to impale the dagger through your hearth every time it heals? Or will you just give up and run away ? Will you purge yourself of feeling and turn everything to hate? Or will you be willing to pay any price just to cling to hope for a second longer? I am not capable of understanding what I feel but I just know and thus I cannot get how people that aren't strong enough to deal with their feelings. Lately I've been running dry on patience and I've been turning into a hateful person. I do not like it nor am I proud of it. I loathe I am coming down to this but in the end I am just paying the price for my ignorance. I really thought I could be happy for once. I really fought hard and kept impaling myself with the dagger barely hanging on to myself and here I am, at a crossroads again for the thousandth time. Will I start another circle or will I break into a spiral that tends towards infinity? How many more times will I encounter love before I can finally be happy? Questions keep piling up on myself and in the end I might just break. But now it's not the time. Now I have a greater mission ahead. I must sacrifice my heart and pierce the dagger through it until I get to see her happy. I just can't stand the amount of pain behind her every fake smile. So, as long as she lets me, I will continue to act as a lightning rod and take all the pain I can carry away from her.

Vremuri...

                                                                                       
Ma intorc dupa o vreme buna de inactivitate. Nu am fost plecat, nu am avut ceva mai bun de facut, pur si simplu am stat si mi-am amintit cat de bine era cand nu trebuia sa imi fac griji de nimic altceva decat ce desene sunt la televizor si sa ma gandesc ce jocuri cretine as mai putea juca sa imi omor timpul. Ma uit la copii din ziua de azi si imi vine sa plang, generatiile pot sa spun ca "de-genereaza" acum copii sunt suparati pe viata, in loc sa viseze sa fie super-eroi, astronauti sau dinozauri, ei viseaza sa fie extraterestrii sau monstrii si in cele din urma trec si peste asta si evolueaza in specimene extraordinare de cocalari si pitipoance. In loc sa se joace cu cartile de joc isi arunca cu pietrii in cap unul altuia si cand ii intrebi de vorba incep sa urle sau sa alerge de nebuni. Nu ma mira asta, dar ma doare sa ma gandesc  la faptul ca un prezent distrus nu prevesteste altceva decat un viitor si mai rau. Ce nu as da sa imi retraiesc primii 15 ani din viata... Dar nu in vremurile astea, sunt curios totusi oare as ajunge la fel ca si pruncii astia morocanosi? Tin minte ca in copilarie, nimic nu ma speria mai mult decat Chucky papusa ucigasa, acum am ajuns sa dau peste Chucky zilnic, fie ca e copilul vecinului, sau al unui necunoscut pe strada, nu mai observ inocenta pe care ar trebui sa o aiba copii la varsta aia, chiar imi pare rau de ei. Sunt parinti care isi aduc copii pe lume doar pentru ca si prietenii lor au un copil si se lauda cu el tot timpul si, vezi doamne, ii face in ciuda. Ce comportament de oameni cretini, ei nu se gandesc cu ce trebuie sa se confrunte copilul respectiv cand creste. Te astepti ca un patron de bar sa aiba grija ca sa nu ajunga copii lui alcoolici. Slabe sanse, dimpotriva, du-te tata la bar, ia colegii cu tine si beti gratis, da-te mare ca tatal tau are bar . Ce o sa se aleaga de copii astia cand o sa fie pe cont propriu nu vreau sa stiu, e prea trist. E pacat de faptul ca un nou nascut e fraged, poate fii modelat, poate sa ajunga un geniu, un revolutionar, cineva cunoscut care sa lase in urma mai mult decat niste oase intr-o groapa, asta ma doare cel mai mult. Mie unul imi plac copii, nu sunt pedofil, dar sincer mi-ar placea sa fiu tata, sa stiu ca am pe cineva care merita sa fie protejat de ce il inconjoara. Asta e, daca e sa se intample o sa vina de la sine, dar nu pot sa ajuti alti copii daca parintii se impotrivesc si le distrug mintile de mici. Nimeni nu cred ca mai poate. In fine, nu strica niciodata sa speram, dupa cum se spune, speranta moare ultima. Deci poate ca e bine sa ne mai gandim inainte sa spunem adio la timp si la zile una dupa alta pentru ca sansele in viata nu asteapta pentru nimeni, iar pentru copii astia nimeni nu le va creea un viitor daca toti stau cu mainile in san si se uita cum devin din ce in ce mai neputinciosi.

                                             
                                                                                  

The man that had no music in himself...

A man that in his time knows not of music, appears strong, but shallow none the less. His life is filled with wretchedness and sorrow, for keeping distance out on such a bless. 

Some people think music is a disease, although it never kills or makes you sneeze. But how can guiding light become a plague? If music brings me harm I'd rather suffer, than live deprived of meaning in this life. Because music is a companion like no other. To me music became a way of life, to others it may seem a waste of time. You can decide which is the one that's wrong, just try and think about your favorite song, the one that's now describing you the best, that shows that you are different from the rest.  If I would talk of what I think of music, I'd say that it is similar to love. And so I think that music is a feeling. A gift bestowed upon us from above. They say that he who never felt love, never knew life in it's true nature, but that person never faced the pain of a broken heart either. When hope fades away and tears flow slowly but for a long time like a soft spring rain, a lot of people are overwhelmed by the pain and get lost in the game of life and time. Sometimes, there are people that manage to get through those times, and, like roses after a storm, those people grow, become more mature and bloom stronger than ever. But, with time, the conscience slowly catches up to those people, it eats away at the depths of their souls like a disease, and in the end, it opens up the wounds hidden deep within the hearts of these people. The strongest are always destined to bare suffering like no other, to endure this never ending cycle and never be able to run away from it. It's all the same when it comes down to music. There are a lot of things that music taught me, like when I'm right, or when I need a change, to stand my ground if it's an honest fight, to never quit when everything seems strange. For every single feeling there's a song. If there's a burden you've been bearing, listening to a song that reflects your feelings at that time makes you feel like there's someone out there that understands exactly what you're going through, someone that probably faced the same hardships you are facing now, and he was so low that everyone had given up on him, but, somehow, he realized that he was in the lowest point of his existence, and the only way left for him to go was up. So he stood up, he started climbing the stairs of life once again, and even if he's not always by your side' the legacy of his songs will always be there for you. Although music is a life support that helps you through tough times, there is so much more to it's meaning. For example music is a way to keep a party standing, and it's really hard to imagine any celebration without music. I can't really imagine what a man that doesn't realize the beauty of music would be like and neither can I try to understand him, but what I really understand, is the sadness of the life that man leads. William Shakespeare perfectly captures the tragedy that the stray man faces, a life of betrayal, for he will never realize the wickedness that surrounds him until he experiences it first-hand, he will become lonely, burdened by all of the questions that yearn for an answer in his heart and torn apart by having nobody to answer them. In my opinion, the existence of the person that resigns music, along with the powerful influence it has, still remains a fiction. But, if there is such a person, I wish that he may one day wake up from the nightmare that he's living, stop the running, fight the fear, and find a purpose worth believing. To conclude my opinion, I think that nothing in nature is immune to music's ability to stir the emotions of living beings.

More to it than suffering

First of all I'd like to state this is not some EMO life-upset teenager's blog. I'm as normally different as every other person on this earth, so just read the article and whether you like it or not, it's not my problem, because I'm not writing for you, I'm writing for myself. If by any chance you relate to my words, it's just a coincidence, I'm not as kind as starting a blog to help others feel good about themselves because I'm having it worse,but let's face it, no one actually is, so if you have such an opinion about someone, you're dead wrong. People are selfish beings. They offer their help "unconditionally", but actually they always expect something back. Whether it's for material payment, or a "Thank You" for their own interior peace, people never do anything for anyone but themselves.

Today's post was actually inspired by a friend that called me masochistic the other day. I'm not masochistic, not in a physical way anyway. But let's think this through, aren't we all emotionally masochistic? Think about when you love someone, it really hurts when they break your heart, but that's how you come to know how much you actually cared about them. My guess is that if you never suffer, it means you never loved. You might think, hell I'm happy right now and I love my partner and I never had to suffer for it. Stop lying to yourself! Do you really mean to tell me you never were afraid of the thought that your partner might not love you as much as you love him/her? Or that he/she might not love you at all? If you never asked yourself those questions you either aren't human, or your even more screwed up than I am. And that doesn't apply only for your love life, think about how you would feel when the people you hated the most died, or something bad happened to them, you say to yourself "Whatever! He/she deserved it!" but that is not what you really feel, it's true that a slight relief can be felt somewhere within you, but it's a feeling mixed with pity and regret. It doesn't really matter if you hated them, because all feelings are proof that you do care. Whether it's positive or negative, your feelings prove you actually are human.

Plastic Angel With Paper Wings

You're probably wandering what the blog title is about. To be honest, I haven't given it much thought.

It just came to me. But I guess if I have to give a meaning to it, it's about how shallow people are these days, about how they give up anything to fit in. Why do they do it? Beats me. Perhaps they're scared of loneliness.

Perhaps they fear that their life will be in vain and everyone will forget about them. And so they seek for salvation in the wrong places. They think that if they become like the others they will be acknowledged. It's actually sad to see that they believe fading away and giving up all that makes you special will make others see you as special. In the end they loose all that really matters to them and become like plastic puppets. It doesn't mean they're not special, it just makes them special in a plain way, traces or shadows of the innocent beings they used to be. I guess all that's left are the paper wings, nothing but another symbol of how plain they've become. Wings are our hope, they are what take us high when we are lonely. So high that we can shout all we want and no one can hear us. Fears, insecurities, every bad aspect just goes away in front of hope. But when you give up what you are, and join society, you don't find yourself, you loose your hope. You're left with nothing except white paper and no pen to write on it with. But then again, you have nothing left to write on it anyway...Here's my advice, you're dead wrong if you think everyone has to like you. Public image is truly important in life, but it means nothing if building it requires letting go of what you really are. No matter what kind of person you are, there will always be someone to accept you for your true self. If you are weak enough to change your way of life because of what others say, the paper wings you have left will eventually burn out in the atmosphere and you will take a fall.
After reading this you might think: What about you? Are you any different from the people you call shallow?
Well here's my answer: I'm not the one to decide that. All I can tell you is that I'm glad I turned out the way I did, I'm proud of the person I am now, and  I'd never give up my life for anything. There are things I regret not doing, but that is what life is all about, sacrifice, the principle of equivalent trade, if you get something you want, you give up something else, whether you are aware of it or not. Loosing a few battles isn't a reason to stop fighting for what's worth dying for.
And now I ask you:
               Do you still believe in all the things that you stood by before?
               Are you out there on the front lines, or at home keeping score?
               Do you care to be the layer of the bricks that seal your fate?
               Or would you rather be the architect of what we might create?
                                                                                                    
                                                                           Rise Against-Architects