a cat's thoughts

I wanted to get away, to know him far away from me, far enough that even the thought of him wouldn’t reach me. When I decided to push him out of my life, I knew I was going to carry him inside me for a while. But I wasn’t expecting my lungs to burn when I breathe, or to wish to kill a part of me. I didn’t know anybody who had died until that moment. I never mourned for anyone. And now I was carrying around with me a dead body that nobody was seeing, nobody was in mourning for. Just me. Not surprisingly, I had become confused: who actually died? Then, time learned to pass by. I let myself be taught how to stay put and let it pass over me. I was always thinking about him though, sometimes with anger, other times wondering how I was capable of such submission. Never with nostalgia. Because I was afraid to miss him. Then I forgot how it is to carry him around. I forgot how missing him felt like. I regained my boring freedom.  It’s been four years. I talked about him as my ...

... Am vrut sa plec, sa-l stiu departe, suficient de departe cat sa nu ma ajunga nici gandul de el.   Cand am hotarat sa ma rup de el, sa-l imping sa plece, stiam ca am sa-l port in mine o vreme dupa aceea. Nu ma asteptam sa ma arda plamanii cand respir si sa imi doresc sa omor o parte din mine. Nu mai stiam pe nimeni care sa fi murit. Nu mai tinusem niciodata doliu. Si acum purtam cu mine peste tot un mort pe care nimeni nu il vedea, nimeni nu il jelea. Numai eu. Nu e de mirare ca ajunsesem confuza: cine a murit, de fapt? Apoi, timpul a invatat sa treaca. Eu m-am lasat invatata sa stau locului si sa-l las sa treaca. M-am gandit mereu la el, uneori cu furie, alteori cu mirare ca am fost capabila de atata supunere.   Niciodata cu dor. Pentru ca mi-era frica sa imi fie dor. Apoi am uitat cum e sa am sentimentul de el. Si am uitat cum ar putea fi sa-mi fie dor. Mi-am recapatat plictisitoarea libertate. Au trecut patru ani. Am povestit despre el ca despre marea...

I couldn’t see it coming, some say… But I did. I saw it coming. And I stood my ground, ready to take on what was approaching. It went right through me and left me to pieces. I instantly forgot I ever had legs to stand on. Sounds, colors, thoughts – it all vanished. The world melted chaotically and my brain didn’t have matter to process anything with anymore.  I hit the ground at one point. I think I did. No breath. No blink. I lost myself in a coma that took me so deep into myself that I would not reach the surface and live a pain I wouldn’t have been able to survive. I don’t know who found me, what they did to me, for how long. Something was reassembling me. There was no point to it, anyway, I was thinking between blackouts. I couldn’t feel where I was beginning from and where I was ending. No point at all… When I was finally able to open my eyes I wanted to roar. I was nothing of what I’ve known before. I was never going to be. And I became enraged, without t...

N-am vazut-o cand a venit…Asa spun unii. Dar eu am vazut-o venind. Si am crezut ca sunt bine inarmata sa joc. A trecut prin mine si m-a spulberat. Am uitat ca am stat vreodata in picioare.  Au disparut sunetele, culorile, ideile. Lumea s-a amestecat  haotic si creierul meu nu mai avea materie cu care sa lucreze. Am lovit pamantul la un moment dat. Cred. N-am respirat, n-am clipit. M-am pierdut intr-o stare de coma ce m-a dus departe, m-a ascuns de durerile pe care nu le-as fi putut suporta constient. Nu stiu cine m-a gasit, ce mi-a facut, cat timp. Ceva ma reasambla. Fara rost, ma gandeam eu in momentele rarefiate de constienta . Nu simteam de unde pana unde durez si unde ma sfarsesc. Cand am deschis ochii, am vrut sa urlu. Nu mai eram ce stiam. Si nu mai aveam ca fiu niciodata. Dar nu aveam forta sa imi urlu furia. Am vrut sa mor, sa ma intorc ca noua. Cerul ma strivea cu prea multa lumina. Eu eram un rebut. Intr-o zi am clipit. Ce natural! Nu trebuia sa reinvatz sa...

Every time I become hurt, there’s this blade inside my mind that cuts through everything in its way. So shiny, so smooth, so silent! So comforting, knowing that I have it and can use it over and over again, to release my soul from any claws thrown my way.   How do you think it is, dancing your pain away, rising still half asleep, pushed back up on your feet, by a power that is never dormant? Today I picked my sword up again. I wish I hadn’t…I wish it were peace…but I felt a wound bleeding from my chest. And it woke me up, lift me up savagely and I reached for my weapon. It felt like I’ve never really let it out of my hand; my fingers curled around the old handle and memories started flooding the back of my eyes. I was so good at handling the sword. Still am.  So I lift it up above my head and started cutting the strings. I do it better when I’m getting a rhythm. So I called for a rhythm. My hands started moving methodically. My body entered a musical state. I w...