de Drago\u0219 Filioreanu<\/p>\n
“You can’t wake up, this is not a dream,<\/p>\n
You’re part of a machine, you are not a human being,<\/p>\n
With your face all made up, living on a screen,<\/p>\n
Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline.”<\/p>\n
[Halsey \u2013 Ghost]<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\n
Ajung acas\u0103 de la \u0219coal\u0103. Mama \u00eenc\u0103 n-a venit, \u00eemi pun o sup\u0103 la \u00eenc\u0103lzit \u0219i m\u0103n\u00e2nc. M\u0103 uit la ceas, ora cinci. Trebuie s\u0103 apar\u0103. Citesc Existen\u021bialismul ast\u0103zi<\/em> de \u0218tefan Bolea.<\/p>\n \u00cen momente ca acestea, sim\u021beam c\u0103 lumea \u00eemi apar\u021bine. Puteam fi cine voiam eu s\u0103 fiu, prin c\u0103r\u021bi. \u00centr-o lume \u00een care oamenii acced spre nimicul absolut, uit\u0103m s\u0103 ne c\u0103ut\u0103m propriul nostru tot, care poate avea diferite forme.<\/p>\n C\u00e2nd cite\u0219ti, zbori. E\u0219ti o pas\u0103re migratoare care zboar\u0103 \u0219i c\u0103l\u0103tore\u0219te oriunde. E\u0219ti liber. E\u0219ti un tu mai bun dec\u00e2t ai fost ieri. E\u0219ti infinit.<\/p>\n \u00centocmai precum un \u00eencarcerat care se zbate s\u0103 ias\u0103 din \u00eenchisoare, a\u0219a ajunsesem s\u0103 m\u0103 simt \u0219i credeam c\u0103 singurul mod de a sc\u0103pa este prin citit. Totodat\u0103, aveam o via\u021b\u0103 social\u0103 destul de activ\u0103, dar lipsea ceva. Toate aceste lucruri nu m\u0103 m\u0103guleau \u00eendeajuns. \u00cencepusem deja s\u0103 \u00eemi scriu prima carte.<\/p>\n Sose\u0219te mama. Eu nu am chef s\u0103 vorbesc cu ea, se enerveaz\u0103 \u0219i \u00eencepe s\u0103 latre ca un c\u00e2ine pe care \u00eel auzi la 3 noaptea de la geamul camerei tale. Dar poate c\u0103 \u0219i ei latr\u0103 cu un motiv. Ce, ei \u00ee\u0219i doresc s\u0103 fie afar\u0103, s\u0103 le fie frig, s\u0103 nu aib\u0103 ce m\u00e2nca? Latr\u0103 de disperare, fac \u0219i ei ce pot. Totu\u0219i, mama nu l\u0103tra cu vreun motiv, l\u0103tra pentru c\u0103 a\u0219a \u00eei place ei s\u0103 latre.<\/p>\n D\u0103 buzna la mine \u00een camer\u0103 \u0219i \u00eencepe s\u0103 arunce cu lucruri peste tot. O ignor \u0219i \u00eemi pun muzic\u0103. Ascult Lorde.<\/p>\n \n Don’t you think that it’s boring how people talk \/ Making smart with their words again, well I’m bored \/ Because I’m doing this for the thrill of it, killin’ it \/ Never not chasing a million things I want<\/p>\n \n Uram felul \u00een care era lumea. Era ca un ocean mare de materie, care se pierdea \u0219i nu devenea. Lumea a fost, la \u00eenceput, infinit\u0103. \u00cen loc s\u0103 o ia a\u0219a cum este, ni\u0219te oameni au f\u0103cut-o ce e ast\u0103zi. Planeta noastr\u0103 e ca o colivie mare, f\u0103cut\u0103 dintr-un material necunoscut, indestructibil. Are gratii, prin care doar unii pot vedea. Pot vedea lucruri uimitoare, pot sim\u021bi \u0219i pot s\u0103 descopere. EI bine, ceilal\u021bi v\u0103d ceea ce numim Nimicul.<\/p>\n Nimicul este greu de definit, pentru c\u0103 mul\u021bi spun c\u0103 v\u0103d lucruri date de \u00eensu\u0219i nimic. El nu este negru, nu este alb, nu are de fapt o culoare. Nu are un miros, o form\u0103 sau o loca\u021bie anume. Chiar dac\u0103 se g\u0103se\u0219te mai ales \u00een afara coliviei, \u00eel putem \u00eent\u00e2lni aproape oriunde.<\/p>\n \u00cel putem \u00eent\u00e2lni c\u00e2nd m\u00e2nc\u0103m acela\u0219i lucru \u00een fiecare zi, la acela\u0219i moment \u0219i \u00een acela\u0219i loc. \u00cel putem \u00eent\u00e2lni c\u00e2nd ne trezim \u0219i, \u00een loc s\u0103 privim pe fereastr\u0103 la frumosul care ne \u00eenconjoar\u0103, ne gr\u0103bim s\u0103 ne \u00eembr\u0103c\u0103m ca s\u0103 nu \u00eent\u00e2rziem undeva. \u00cel putem \u00eent\u00e2lni c\u00e2nd adormim \u0219i avem un somn neonctuos, sinistru, f\u0103r\u0103 vise \u0219i f\u0103r\u0103 g\u00e2nduri.<\/p>\n \u00cel \u00eent\u00e2lnesc de fiecare dat\u0103 c\u00e2nd m\u0103 duc p\u00e2n\u0103 la magazinul de l\u00e2ng\u0103 bloc s\u0103 \u00eemi iau \u021big\u0103ri la bucat\u0103 \u0219i v\u0103d o femeie \u00eentre dou\u0103 v\u00e2rste, dar care arat\u0103, cu siguran\u021b\u0103, mult mai b\u0103tr\u00e2n\u0103 dec\u00e2t este, care s-a trezit de diminea\u021b\u0103 ca s\u0103 \u00ee\u0219i cumpere ceap\u0103 \u0219i un kilogram de sm\u00e2nt\u00e2n\u0103 ca s\u0103 fac\u0103 nu \u0219tiu ce fel de m\u00e2ncare, al c\u0103rei miros \u00eel sim\u021bi de pe casa sc\u0103rii.<\/p>\n \u0218i, poate cel mai r\u0103u, \u00eel \u00eent\u00e2lnesc cel mai des \u00een propriul meu apartament. Difuz, nedefinit, ap\u0103s\u0103tor \u0219i eterogen, dispare \u0219i reapare \u00een momente ciudate ale zilei. Este de neg\u0103sit c\u00e2nd sunt singur, c\u00e2nd citesc, c\u00e2nd ascult muzic\u0103 \u0219i, cel mai mult, noaptea.<\/p>\n De pu\u021bin timp, \u00eens\u0103, i-am sim\u021bit prezen\u021ba prea mult. Mult prea mult. Am \u00eencercat de multe ori s\u0103 fug de el, dar oriunde ajungeam, \u00eel sim\u021beam \u00een mine, asfixiindu-m\u0103, \u021bin\u00e2ndu-m\u0103 str\u00e2ns din toate \u00eencheieturile. Cu fiecare zi care trecea, era ca \u0219i cum m\u0103 scufundam din ce \u00een ce mai mult \u00eentr-un neant.<\/p>\n Problema era c\u0103 nu \u00eemi era fric\u0103 de Nimic. Desigur, \u00eemi doream s\u0103 r\u0103m\u00e2n eu \u0219i f\u0103ceam tot ce \u00eemi st\u0103tea \u00een putin\u021b\u0103 s\u0103 \u00eemi p\u0103strez condi\u021bia uman\u0103. Dar \u00eemi era fric\u0103 de ceva: Descensiunea.<\/p>\n Era ca \u0219i cum \u00eentreaga mea via\u021b\u0103 era un amestec care devenea din ce \u00een ce mai omogen, format din Descensiune, Nimic (cu tot ceea ce venea el – fric\u0103, monotonie, agonie, ne\u00een\u021belegere) \u0219i Eu. Nu devenisem un fugar, pentru c\u0103 devenirea este total opusul pierderii. M\u0103 pierdusem pe mine. Eram un fugar. Eram nehot\u0103r\u00e2t \u0219i ne\u00een\u021beles. Nu pentru c\u0103 societatea nu m\u0103 \u00een\u021belegea – pentru c\u0103 nici nu putea \u0219i eram destul de sigur c\u0103 nici eu nu voiam aceasta – ci pentru c\u0103 spiritul meu devenise str\u0103in de corp. Corpul meu putea fi aici, \u00eentr-o cl\u0103dire, \u00eentr-un ora\u0219 \u00eentr-o \u021bar\u0103 \u0219i, \u00een definitiv, \u00een lumea pe care to\u021bi o \u0219tim sau credem c\u0103 o \u0219tim, dar despre care nu \u0219tim nimic, de fapt.<\/p>\n Iar Eu, unde eram? Unde sunt?<\/p>\n Nu cred c\u0103 am aflat vreodat\u0103. \u0218i nici nu cred c\u0103 am s\u0103 aflu. Nu aici. Nu acum.<\/p>\n \n \n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" de Drago\u0219 Filioreanu “You can’t wake up, this is not a dream, You’re part of a machine, you are not a human being, With your face all made up, living on a screen, Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline.” [Halsey \u2013 Ghost] Ajung acas\u0103 de la \u0219coal\u0103. Mama \u00eenc\u0103 n-a venit, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1208,15],"tags":[1220,1209,1115],"class_list":["post-11201","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-46","category-proza","tag-dragos-filioreanu","tag-egophobia-46","tag-proza"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/s6DakB-nimicul","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11201","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=11201"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11201\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11202,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11201\/revisions\/11202"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=11201"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=11201"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=11201"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n<\/strong><\/p>\n