Rainbow Child

Ar trebui să-mi repet asta de zeci de mii de ori pe zi…

We might have come back from Germany, but I’m still thinking a lot about it: the way I felt there, Martha and Vio, the beautiful buildings, the Entschuldingung-s I’ve heard everywhere… Man, I’d move there without ever looking back!

The book fair is just around the corner and there’s so much work to do! We’re all so tired and I’m daydreaming about Christmas and going home and, like always, doing nothing! My far-away friends will also come this Christmas back home and I can hardly wait to spend hours talking and drinking tea with them. And I’m already thinking about Christmas presents and I have some ideas but not enough and I don’t know if I have enough money for all I want to give. Well, I can be generous at least once a year!

Since I’ve been working with books I’ve started to lose respect for their physical appearance. Not that ugly cover designs don’t make me shudder, but I’m more negligent with their pages: I don’t mind treating books like objects and not like gods. And I read so much at work and then I read some more when I get back home but I don’t want to stop, I just want to go back to read for my own pleasure and venerating books. I used to think that the coolest job ever would be to read books and get paid for that, now I’m having second doubts…

I am still amazed how I can go from being happy to being depressed in 2 minutes. How I let every fucking single detail ruin my day. I am over sensitive and I’d like to feel nothing for a change. I’d like to be immune to external stimuli…

Also, I am very good at fucking things up. I was so happy that autumn has finally arrived! I was walking down the street with this huge smile on my face and I couldn’t get enough of that cold crisp air promising new adventures and good times. I was bursting with joy! And then today… oh, today it was horrible! After I had finally mustered up my courage to go to my boss and ask for a 2-day leave from work, I had my mind set on buying an autumn coat. It was a complete failure! I had seen some very nice jackets online but they were so different IRL! Disappointingly different… I don’t get it: it’s an autumn jacket, it means it should protect me from the cold. I don’t need a pretty expensive thiiiin coat cause I don’t want to freeze to death! Also, I don’t want to wear my winter jacket from late October to early March cause that would be too depressing. I want something in between! And also, who the fuck wears fur on their collar??? Anyways… I’ll give it one more try tomorrow, otherwise I’ll just wear my very old jackets. Too bad that I don’t know any good second hand shops here and I don’t have time to go to BM and shop there…

17 more days till we’ll be on a plane to Köln! It will be quite a trip getting from the airport to the hotel (we land at midnight) but we’ll manage somehow. After that everything will be more than words can say: the concert, the girls, the city, the wandering around, the pictures… This is going to be my 4th autumn trip abroad. I like this tradition and I should do everything to make it happen year after year. Every trip abroad is more than a breath of fresh air… it’s normality. I need it!!! I want it!!!

Sometimes I feel like I’m on autopilot: get up, go to work, be productive, come home, waste time, go to sleep, start all over again next morning. Most of the time I want to break this ugly ugly routine but almost every day I return home without having taken a picture, without having stopped by Cărturești, without doing anything nice! I am so mad at myself for that… In order to make things better, I’ll go to a book release tomorrow and on Friday I’ll go to the cinema. Bloody small things, how you can’t live without them!

Every Saturday morning I go to the market. Although I seldom cook, I need to know that I have fresh vegetable in the fridge. So we went shopping and on the way home I saw a woman who was selling blueberries, or so I thought. Anyways, I bought a bag of blueberries (she confirmed they were the right fruits) and went home.

I put the groceries in the fridge and proceeded to wash the blueberries. When I tried one I was shocked to find it had a core. Wtf? I tried another one: didn’t taste like a blueberry and it still had a core! I was getting angrier and angrier. I called Mum, told her about the core, about how they look like blueberries but they’re not, how that woman lied to my face and sold me something else! She laughed and told me that what I had bought are some cheap good for nothing berries. FUCK!

So I grabbed the bag and stormed out of the house. The anger had now reached its peak, I was literally fuming! I got to the lady who sold me the blueberries and we had a surrealistic talk:

- Hello, can you tell me what berries are these?
- Yes, they are ???berries.
- But I specifically asked you if they were blueberries and you said yes.
- You can make jam out of them or liquor!
- That’s not the point! I wanted blueberries and these are not blueberries!
- No, they’re not.
- Then why did you tell me they were blueberries?
- Have you tasted them? They are good! You can make jam out of them or liquor!
- I WANTED BLUEBERRIES!

In the end she agreed to give me back my money and I gave her back her fucking berries. On the way back I calmed a bit but I still can’t get over the fact that people would do anything for money. Or maybe she was just deranged and thought that I just wanted berries, no matter if they were blue or not… And again, I am so pissed that people think they can fool me. They look at me and probably see a teenager and they think that I don’t have anything to say, that my opinions don’t count, that they can fool me and I won’t do anything against it… I should lock myself inside cause I hate what’s going on outside!

Sometimes I have this urge to leave it all behind and start anew, to take the first train home and to be the girl my mother never had. I’ve always done only want I wanted, I never listened, I was so sure that my way was the good way. And now I’m almost grown up and I’m… mildly content with my life. I know, what can a spoiled brat like me possibly want more? Don’t I already have everything? Yes and no. I have a place I can call my own, I have food in the fridge and tons of clothes, I have hip film cameras and half a dozen of Converse shoes. I can satisfy almost every material whim. But does that make me happy? Of course not.

Most of the time characters in books start out as average people but their desires and ideas make them stick out, make them live the adventure of their lives. I am a fiction addict because that’s the only way I can live extraordinary things. I am too coward and lazy to do something that matters in real life so I rely on characters to supply me with the adrenalin and happiness I crave for.

I’m trying to picture how my life will look like in 5, 10 years’ time and I can’t see anything. I don’t know what I want to do, where I want to be, how I want to live, I don’t know anything except that I need to figure out what I want to do and just go and do it because no matter how many books I read, I still won’t be satisfied with my life.

*Klaxons – Atlantis to Interzone