de\u00a0Claudia Antonia Giogan<\/p>\n
A \u0163ipat, a \u0163ipat ca \u015fi c\u00e2nd acesta era unicul s\u0103u scop \u00een via\u0163\u0103, a \u0163ipat ca \u015fi c\u00e2nd pl\u0103m\u00e2nii s\u0103i erau din vat\u0103 de zah\u0103r ars \u015fi aerul plonja aievea. E acel moment c\u00e2nd visezi c\u0103 te scufunzi \u00een propriul oxigen, c\u0103 venele vor s\u0103 \u021b\u00e2\u0219neasc\u0103 \u015fi s\u0103 \u00eembibe cu s\u00e2ngele fierbinte \u00eentreaga piele aproape stafidit\u0103. Se sim\u0163ea \u00eentr-un co\u015fmar, dar se afla ancorat\u0103 \u00een realitate. \u00cencerca s\u0103 articuleze cuvinte, dar nimic nu voia s\u0103-i ias\u0103, sim\u0163ea c\u0103 se \u00eeneac\u0103 cu \u00eens\u0103\u015fi acele vocale nearticulate. \u0162ipa \u00eentr-o t\u0103cere de morm\u00e2nt. Ochii \u00eei ie\u015feau din orbite \u015fi vini\u015foarele din jurul t\u00e2mplelor formaser\u0103 o crust\u0103 movalie, m\u00e2inile sale erau \u00eencle\u015ftate \u00een cear\u015faful alb.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A \u0163ipat iar. A \u0163ipat iar \u015fi nimeni nu o putea auzi, nici m\u0103car ea. Era o umbr\u0103 pe o lume sumbr\u0103. Voia s\u0103 distrug\u0103 tot ce o \u00eenconjura, s\u0103 \u00eei fac\u0103 pe to\u0163i s\u0103 simt\u0103 ce doar ea a ajuns s\u0103 \u00een\u0163eleag\u0103 \u2013 adev\u0103rata durere. Acea adev\u0103rat\u0103 durere c\u00e2nd ura face ravagii \u015fi nimic nu mai are sens. Existen\u0163a se transform\u0103 \u00een imaterie, iar materia \u00een vid.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Apoi s-a lini\u015ftit. Puterile au l\u0103sat-o \u00eentr-un final. Pleoapele \u00eei c\u0103deau greoi pe ochii vine\u0163ii, erau umede, negre \u015fi lungi. Nu dormea cu adev\u0103rat, i se p\u0103rea un lucru imposibil. A stat prea mult treaz\u0103 pentru a g\u0103si calea c\u0103tre somn, era ceva greu de reamintit, uitase cum s\u0103 fac\u0103 acest lucru, cum s\u0103 doarm\u0103. Doar creierul se juca, flutura \u00een zeci de posibile scenarii sinistre. Speran\u0163a murise. Ea murise, chiar dac\u0103 inima \u00eenc\u0103 \u00eei pompa s\u00e2nge.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Voia s\u0103-\u015fi vad\u0103 s\u00e2ngele scurg\u00e2ndu-se, sec\u00e2nd-o de orice urm\u0103 de putere. Era epuizat\u0103 \u015fi voia s\u0103 adoarm\u0103. Regina nop\u0163ii nu o ajuta, \u00eei \u00eengreuna soarta pecetluit\u0103 la nimic. Se sim\u0163ea singur\u0103 \u015fi-i era frig. \u00cei era frig de amintirile frumoase, de el, de \u00eembr\u0103\u0163i\u015f\u0103rile lui, de z\u00e2mbetul lui, de ea, de \u00eembr\u0103\u0163i\u015f\u0103rile ei, de z\u00e2mbetul ei, de amintirile lor. Ultima ancor\u0103 \u00eentruchipau aceste fantasme, realitatea amestec\u00e2ndu-se \u00eentr-un tangou pasional cu imagina\u0163ia sa juc\u0103u\u015f\u0103. Nu mai \u015ftia exact ce s-a \u00eent\u00e2mplat \u015fi ce nu. Nu mai putea \u00een\u0163elege cum \u015fi \u00eencotro s-au dus lucrurile, ce au generat cele \u00eent\u00e2mplate. \u015ei ce s-a \u00eent\u00e2mplat, \u00een fond? A dec\u0103zut, s-a pr\u0103bu\u015fit \u015fi n-a mai reu\u015fit s\u0103 se trezeasc\u0103, s-a izbit puternic de cimentul sloi din parcare.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A ajuns s\u0103 se urasc\u0103 \u015fi s\u0103-i urasc\u0103 pe to\u0163i. De ce i-a fost fric\u0103 nu a sc\u0103pat. A luat-o complet razna din cauza propriei fiin\u0163e, din cauza r\u0103t\u0103cirii din care nu a reu\u0219it s\u0103 g\u0103seasc\u0103 sc\u0103pare. O ur\u0103\u015fte. Nu putea trece peste aceste sentimente, au m\u0103cinat-o profund, \u00eencet \u015fi cu tact. O ur\u0103\u015fte. Nu putea s\u0103 nu-i vad\u0103 figura atunci c\u00e2nd \u00ee\u015fi privea propria reflexie \u00een oglind\u0103. Avea fa\u0163a la fel ca cea din copil\u0103ria ei \u2013 palid\u0103, \u015ftears\u0103, pierdut\u0103, pistruiat\u0103 \u015fi totu\u015fi cu o str\u0103lucire de ging\u0103\u015fie. Avea aceea\u015fi privire, ochii c\u0103prui-negricio\u015fi erau identici, buzele pline p\u0103reau parc\u0103 trase la indigo. C\u00e2t despre p\u0103r, \u00eencadra la fel capul, st\u0103tea la fel de \u00eencurcat, \u00eentortocheat \u015fi s\u0103lbatic, aveau p\u00e2n\u0103 \u015fi aceea\u015fi str\u0103lucire stins\u0103 de ro\u015fcat s\u0103lbatic. Se ura pentru c\u0103 sem\u0103nau at\u00e2t de mult \u015fi pentru c\u0103 nu voia s\u0103 fie ca ea, nu voia s\u0103 sufere \u015fi s\u0103 ajung\u0103 ce a ajuns ea, nu \u00eei era deloc un model. \u015ei totu\u015fi a dus-o la limita de a fi la fel.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Ura e motivul pentru care omenirea exist\u0103.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Depresia este starea oamenilor tri\u015fti, incapabili de a ur\u00ee, dezam\u0103gi\u0163i de lumea \u00eenconjur\u0103toare, nemul\u0163umi\u0163i.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Dar ea se chinuie s\u0103 \u0163ipe \u00een continuare, chiar dac\u0103 nimeni nu o aude, se chinuie s\u0103 ias\u0103 din acea stare. \u00cens\u0103 \u00een urma sa distruge totul exact cum totul a distrus-o pe ea. Va \u00eenceta lupta cu sine abia c\u00e2nd ultimul suflu \u00eei va p\u0103r\u0103si trupul, deocamdat\u0103 are momente \u00een care cedeaz\u0103. Dup\u0103 fiecare c\u0103dere, \u00eens\u0103, se ridic\u0103 din ce \u00een ce mai greu. Un singur lucru \u0219i-a jurat \u2013 nu va fi ca mama ei!<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
de\u00a0Claudia Antonia Giogan A \u0163ipat, a \u0163ipat ca \u015fi c\u00e2nd acesta era unicul s\u0103u scop \u00een via\u0163\u0103, a \u0163ipat ca \u015fi c\u00e2nd pl\u0103m\u00e2nii s\u0103i erau din vat\u0103 de zah\u0103r ars \u015fi aerul plonja aievea. E acel moment c\u00e2nd visezi c\u0103 te scufunzi \u00een propriul oxigen, c\u0103 venele vor s\u0103 \u021b\u00e2\u0219neasc\u0103 \u015fi s\u0103 \u00eembibe cu s\u00e2ngele […]<\/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":true,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1247,15],"tags":[1257,1248,1115],"class_list":["post-11530","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-48","category-proza","tag-claudia-antonia-giogan","tag-egophobia-48","tag-proza"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-2ZY","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11530","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=11530"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11530\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11531,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11530\/revisions\/11531"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=11530"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=11530"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=11530"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}