going on (summer) break...

Pentru ca O. are dreptate. Atunci cand iti place un blog poti ignora lipsa de timp ca sa il citesti de la cap la coada.

 Indolenta nu este nici explicatie, nici scuza. Si nici teama nu e. Ceea ce nu inseamna ca nu ma voi bucura de reposturi, pentru ca uneori uit ceea ce am citit. Iar cand spun ca uit, eu uit ca si cum nu as fi citit niciodata si reposturile imi vor aduce aminte sa recitesc, asa cum ma intorc sa recitesc orice carte care imi e draga...

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Tu ar trebui sa intelegi totusi ca uit, si mai ales cum uit. Sa intelegi ca povestea mea, istoria mea nu curge, ci e incropita din fragmente fara nici o relatie aparenta intre ele. Un fel de time capsule in care persoanele care au decis sa lase un crampei de amintire nu par a se cunoaste intre ele si nici macar nu au interese comune. Eu nu stiu daca altii, sau cati altii , simt nevoia de a pune ordine printre aceste amintiri. Si nici nu e prea relevant aici ce fac altii cu amintirile lor. Ce este relevant, este ca in incercarea mea de a pune amintirile in ordine ma impiedic adesea de lipsa lor. Ceva imi spune ca au fost niste gesturi pe care nu le-am vazut, niste cuvinte pe care nu le-am auzit si niste promisiuni pe care le-am uitat. Si acum nu le mai gasesc nicaieri -pentru ca barierele ce reglementeaza circulatia amintirilor si senzatiilor pe caile mele neuronale nu functioneaza asa cum trebuie. Uneori sunt blocate in pozitia inchis, si atunci ceea ce trebuia procesat, nu se mai proceseaza. In alte dati au ramas blocate in pozitia deschis si totul a devenit noise. Iar eu sunt  ca un cinefil ce urmareste un film ce ruleaza de pe o pelicula veche din care lipsesc cadre si uneori scene intregi. Si atunci cand incearca sa recreeze povestea si sa dea sens intentiilor scenaristului, regizorului, actorilor se simte nevoit sa improvizeze. Si asfel umplu eu vidul amintirilor cu niste chestii pe care imi inchipui eu ca ar trebui sa se regaseasca acolo, niste chestii pe care le vad eu potrivindu-se intr-o logica a lucrurilor. Doar ca lumea, intamplarile si oamenii nu se regasesc de fapt in relatii formale. Si astfel realitatea filtrata de mine devine foarte diferita de realitatile celor cu care ma intersectez. Si uneori au atat de putin in comun realitatile nostre incat ma tem ca ma insel:pe mine, pe cei din jurul meu...Si pentru ca nu as vrea sa insel pe nimeni si  mai ales pe mine, incep sa ma tem si mai mult....Si nu mai am incredere in ceea ce vad, in ceea ce simt, in modul meu de a gandi. Atunci imi amutesc cuvintele si imi opresc gesturile, pentru ca mi-e frica rau de tot sa nu creez interferente si in realitatile celor din jur.

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Printre gesturile pe care le-am oprit au fost si doua saruturi. [Poate au fost mai mult de doua saruturi dar nu mi-as aduce aminte.]

Un sarut pe buze pe care mi l-am refuzat atunci cand A. ne-a condus pana la poarta pe mine si punga mea de zahar.

Un sarut pe frunte atunci cand am ajuns pana in pragul usii tale si te-am gasit dormind. Si m-am oprit pentru ca m-am gandit ca nu se cuvine. Pentru ca ar fi fost un sarut furat , si nu oferit. Eu n-as fura un sarut decat daca ar fi un gest de dorinta, ori eu pe tine, atunci, nu te (mai) doream. Te iubeam. 

Acest 'te iubeam'... acest 'te iubesc' necesita un dialog. Fie si socratic, daca asa vei fi simtit tu nevoia. Doar ca s-a ajuns la  un punct  in care tu nu mai oferi decat mult prea multe taceri, iar eu prea multe intrebari lasate fara raspuns. Iar in monologul acesta handicapul meu devine o continua sursa de anxietate si mi-e tare teama ca tu nu esti decat rodul imaginatiei mele. 

Ca a fost un strain care a inceput un dialog acum doua veri, dupa care s-a plictisit. Doar ca eu aveam nevoia sa cred atunci ca un astfel de dialog mai este posibil si poate ca am interpretat gresit o toleranta binevoitoare drept interes. Pentru ca, daca te-ar fi interesat, ai mai fi cautat si tu dialogul cu mine. Daca ai grija cuiva il mai cauti din cand in cand sa vezi cum se descurca.

Ca poate sunt nedreapta, stiind ca ai si tu temerile si handicapurile tale. Ca poate chiar iti pasa, asa cum m-a asigurat un prieten comun, doar ca nu mai poti sa exprimi asta.

Ce ma sperie insa, mult prea mult pentru a putea continua monodialogul acesta, este ca am remarcat ca te caut in altii si ca proiectez relatia nostra in relatia mea cu alte persoane. Si asta nu e corect fata de ei (sper sa ma ierte). Si nici fata de mine, pentru ca daca ei imi sunt dragi asta nu (mai) are nici o legatura cu tine. Cred ca a venit timpul sa trag o linie aici. Si pentru ca blogul acesta l-am inceput pentru tine, nu ca as mai avea iluzia ca il citesti, ma voi opri din scris pana cand voi putea re-gasi o forma ce nu (mai) e gandita pentru tine. 

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Since I do not trust the google translation option

I you wonder why I will take a summer blog break , it's because I am taking a break from the  the person/idea that were beyond it. I hope to return soon with a new format and new ideas. Because the other sad fact is that I only wrote sparingly lately and what I wrote was not that good either...

The good, the bad and the alien

This started in the bus, because of the local Public Transit's obstinate attempts to stress that there is not as much bigotry in this area as one might suspect . To answer my question about the foreign language advertising on the local buses:

"It is the way to celebrate the city's diversity" pointed , once , a bus driver.

However, it was not a greeting in Hungarian that drew my attention this time . This time it was the first paragraph of Title VI of the civil Rights Act of 1964 - you know, the one that starts with "No person in the United States... "[1]. No, no person, but the alien. 

Yes, it seems only fair that a non-citizen resident will not have access to exactly the same benefits as the citizen has, but it is the distinction that bugged me. Because, you see , beyond legalese the distinction between person and alien is more like human, non-human...

Or maybe this did not even started now. It is just me again as I start feeling uneasy, as I do each time when I hear the speech about american values floating around as a hot air balloon, a bubble ready to burst. I feel embarrassed for all the people here that had something to teach about values but were too busy working , and teaching and being in the community to waste their time telling one or another how they are not up to this values just because an alien is just an alien...

Or maybe this is the ongoing argument between the white conservative husband and his alien liberal wife:

He says :" Obama ruined the economy"

and adds "and he made abortions legal"

She counters with Roe v. Wade

and how she won't ever impose 

her life options    on others.

He says" They don't like us-

an american is a target wherever he goes.

Remember Mumbai, last year?"

She shouts back:"Kashmir,

you see that's not some 

expensive sweater we have here..."

He bawls: taxation is a sin,

she sights: I pay so much in taxes

and see no benefits like health care 

I could afford,

or a classroom for the poor kids too

with computers but no rain coming in.

Or maybe this started more than  ten years ago, in Germany, at Ludwig-Albert Uni. There I met the first american citizen [ever] . I was studying about mental representations, he studied Neo-Marxism. I shut him up, but my only argument was that I grew up in a communist regime. He taught me that geography does not equal knowledge. You see, this is the american way, though you never use the words "american" and "way". You just keep your mind open so you can question and use your reason before jumping to conclusions. So you go back to the library and read ... Marx, Lenin, Lukacs, Djilas, Tismaneanu... whatever you can get your hands on...so you can think, so you can reason...We can all learn from each other: the aliens, the good, the bad....

Or maybe this did not even start...Maybe it is just a rambling about a child with many gifts that grew up to fast, in the spotlight ...Or about a land full of confusions and people: sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes alien...

[1] No person in the United States shall, on the ground of race, color, or national origin, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any program or activity receiving Federal financial assistance.(Pub. L. 88-352, title VI, Sec. 601, July 2, 1964, 78 Stat. 252.)

6/24

On Wednesday June 10 a friend, a blogger asked his readers " What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Julie had her answer in her pocket, even though she was not aware of the question.

Unfortunately, she was not the only one with an answer. This person  wanted to go out with a bang - as he thought of himself to be the one in charge of the "real american values" , but all he had in the end was his hate... There is another one who thinks  that he is the guardian of real Islamic and Iranian values, and I'm afraid he was allowed to have his own country and there is no way to tell how many more lives will be lost or whom will be able to stop him now...

 

On the brighter side, four people wanted to age free and they were able to achieve a little bit more than what they dreamt for. I hope they will be able to hold to it...

Today I stolled through the Pittsburgh Pride  and in my walk I had been surrounded by all kind of people-with their children, with rainbow faces and village people type outfits, young kids with jeans and cool ripped t-shirts, middle aged couples with polo shirts and dress pants - we only had one thing in common I think, we all wanted to be accepted as diverse as we were. And thinking over this week's events I realized that what I want to be when I grow up is to be human. 

tu te rapelle...(you remember...)

"Marjane: Mamie, tu sens tojours bon. Comment tu fais?
Mamie: Mais tu vois, je cueille des fleurs de jasmin chaque matin et quand je m'habille je les glisse dans mon soutien gorge. Et comme ça, je sent toujours bon"
Marjane:Oh!C'est super" 

nostalgic memories of childhood-from Persepolis, the movie

a movie for anyone that had ever wondered how the world looks beyond narrow borders...a movie full of history, love and memories of jasmine...