Naturally a loner
Loving to be alone with myself half the time
Half the time, it feels so good to be with you
Following the pull of my heart
Not observing what others are doing
Into making love prefereably with love, babies and bread
Not caring either way about anything else
Life is sweet and short
Don't want to experience the same thing twice
Writing the best feeling of life on my skin
Raised in a hilly village off the beaten path with orchards and running creeks. Summers with torrential rain. Colorful Autumns with powerful winds that left the streets covered in walnuts, and branches. Winters were quiet, white, burning wood smoke in the air. Our almost square garden, the wind moving the trees, the strong scent of yellow pears, of black grapes, bees, butterflies. I kept track of flowers, fruits, leaves, their change in color, shape, texture. I tracked the wind, the temperature of the sun on my skin. I saw dark clouds roll over the garden I watched torrential rain from the window I saw sun rays after the storm warming up everything, shining a magic light Storms excite me, inspired me. They made me feel like making love.
I went roaming on the hills. I went to the cemetery up the hill where the grass is high, the wind strong and I feel closer to the sky. I hear the story of a young girl, who died. I get horrified by death. I start seeing on people's walls photos with their dead parents, brothers, sisters even children. Death remains at the back of my mind, like a permanent lense in my eyes I see through.
Babies We go three times per week to the Pentecostal church where my grandad is the founder and one man show pastor. My grandma keeps me a bit in church oives me to eap apple ort pumpkin strudel then send me to stay outside becasue inside was too boring. Outside, in the churche's courtyard, there are the cute soft warm babies in their mother's loving arms. I can't have enough of watching them. When a mother is passing me by, my heart starts beating fast. I'm in awe of mothers. Mothers to me feel out of this world, the most important. My first love I'm inseparable from the cute boy who lives across the street, who follows me with a love smile on his face. He is the only one I let touch my baby doll, he can even scratch it if he wants. We walk on the street for hours, arms around each other’s shoulders. We go up the hills so far out untill we say " we crossed the border in Serbia". That moment we looked at each other with a smile and scream "we are lost!" and run back downhill home as fast as we can. Happy By the time I am six, with the good and the bad I like myself. I feel secure under the sun and feel inside a drive to celebrate every day. The dream of making love and having babies makes me happy, drives me, its what's important to me. Everything else I don't care either way.
Moving to the CityWhen I'm six, we move to Timisoara, a medieval city with cobblestone squares, fountains, theaters, cathedrals. With parks, rose garden, magnolia trees along the Bega River. We settle at the edge of the city, in a modest old house of clay, on a huge land in the cheapest neighborhood nicknamed "Gypsy neighborhood". We move with all the animals - pigs, goats, turkeys, ducks, rabbits, chickens, dog, cats, bees and all their houses. My new play kids are a big Christian musicians Gypsy family with kids my age. All the kids play all the instruments. We play music and watche horror movies at their house day in and day out until I start being afraid of my own shadow. Like in the village, we heat with wood. In the night the fire is off and is cold. We have duck feathers comforters; those are the warmest. I love the smell of smoke and the sound of wood beginning to burn in the cold dawn. The garden has more than sixty fruit trees - cherry, peach, apricot, plum, pear, medlar. Has a long pathway in the middle, covered in old grapevine, with strawberries on both sides. The garden becomes my heaven on earth. The place where I could feel peace and get in touch with myself and dream. Dream of the day I will be only with my lover and babies away from everyone and everything else.
Babies We go three times per week to the Pentecostal church where my grandad is the founder and one man show pastor. My grandma keeps me a bit in church oives me to eap apple ort pumpkin strudel then send me to stay outside becasue inside was too boring. Outside, in the churche's courtyard, there are the cute soft warm babies in their mother's loving arms. I can't have enough of watching them. When a mother is passing me by, my heart starts beating fast. I'm in awe of mothers. Mothers to me feel out of this world, the most important. My first love I'm inseparable from the cute boy who lives across the street, who follows me with a love smile on his face. He is the only one I let touch my baby doll, he can even scratch it if he wants. We walk on the street for hours, arms around each other’s shoulders. We go up the hills so far out untill we say " we crossed the border in Serbia". That moment we looked at each other with a smile and scream "we are lost!" and run back downhill home as fast as we can. Happy By the time I am six, with the good and the bad I like myself. I feel secure under the sun and feel inside a drive to celebrate every day. The dream of making love and having babies makes me happy, drives me, its what's important to me. Everything else I don't care either way.
Moving to the CityWhen I'm six, we move to Timisoara, a medieval city with cobblestone squares, fountains, theaters, cathedrals. With parks, rose garden, magnolia trees along the Bega River. We settle at the edge of the city, in a modest old house of clay, on a huge land in the cheapest neighborhood nicknamed "Gypsy neighborhood". We move with all the animals - pigs, goats, turkeys, ducks, rabbits, chickens, dog, cats, bees and all their houses. My new play kids are a big Christian musicians Gypsy family with kids my age. All the kids play all the instruments. We play music and watche horror movies at their house day in and day out until I start being afraid of my own shadow. Like in the village, we heat with wood. In the night the fire is off and is cold. We have duck feathers comforters; those are the warmest. I love the smell of smoke and the sound of wood beginning to burn in the cold dawn. The garden has more than sixty fruit trees - cherry, peach, apricot, plum, pear, medlar. Has a long pathway in the middle, covered in old grapevine, with strawberries on both sides. The garden becomes my heaven on earth. The place where I could feel peace and get in touch with myself and dream. Dream of the day I will be only with my lover and babies away from everyone and everything else.
Music, Mountains and Rides
In the city I went again to the Pentecostal church where I sang four years in kids church choir. I loved the Palm Sunday when we sang with lilac, tulips in our hands. The whole church smelled so good. Every Christmas we went singing carols two nights all night long until 6 am. We walked on streets, singing carols in exchange for tasty cookies and cakes filled with apple, pumpkin, lemon, cheese, walnuts, poppy seeds, chocolate, vanilla, maple and milk. Sometimes was snowing and we walked all night in the snow, slipping on ice, having our fingers frozen. We went in neighborhoods I never been to and in the night, some were so beautiful, strange and magical. Singing in the night on empty streets on four voices sounded divine. It felt like we were in a different world. With kids choir I went also in my first mountain camp. In that camp, I fell in love with mountains. With waking up in the mountain's strong fresh air, seeing dew on the grass and mist over the valley, hearing cow bells nearby, hiking for hours at a time, cooking on fire every night under the sky full of stars. When I was 14 I was too big for kids choir and had to move over to church orchestra where I played mandolin two years. I visited Baptist churches too, but I felt more at home with Pentecostals. Baptist churches were a lot of bible study, talking, classic music, profesionals, enginers, doctors, almost all had college degree,. In Pentecostal churches there were babies everywhere, soulful music, lots of singing, people running their own small businesses, people falling in love, people cheating on their lovers. It wasn't perfect. It had the good and the bad. But somehow, with all of it - the music, the babies, the passion, the flaws - I fit right in, felt like real life to me. Baptist churches felt a lot like school and like the school scared the shit out of me. I could never understand or fit in with neither school nor baptist church. And lucky with the boys, babies, music, nature and small business otherwise I would have been directionless and scared and bored to death.
In the city , there was a huge park where every summer they brought rides on cool music. Once I'm on a ride with music, I immediately start dreaming. I went on one ride I loved again and again. Everyone was going once; I had to go so many times I thought people will think I'm crazy. Then one summer the rides didn't come. Next year the same. I started asking all around, where are the rides, did they move them? I searched for them the whole city asking around. Nobody knew about any rides. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't understand how all the best things are disappearing. Why other people don't love what I love, don't crave same things like me because for me they were the best.
In the city , there was a huge park where every summer they brought rides on cool music. Once I'm on a ride with music, I immediately start dreaming. I went on one ride I loved again and again. Everyone was going once; I had to go so many times I thought people will think I'm crazy. Then one summer the rides didn't come. Next year the same. I started asking all around, where are the rides, did they move them? I searched for them the whole city asking around. Nobody knew about any rides. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't understand how all the best things are disappearing. Why other people don't love what I love, don't crave same things like me because for me they were the best.
Hearing the Mountain's call
1992 Apuseni Mt, Romania
When I started at 11 going camps, I loved them. It was only hiking, berry picking, cooking, singing, with an occasional praying out loud which I dreaded. As I grew up the camps became, more bible study, more word games and only bible study and word games. When I was 15 I found myself skipping the bible study hours that were part of the camp. To escape those, I hid in the forest. In the forest was shade, was cool and quiet, there you could see magic sun rays hitting trees, you could feel a light breeze and hear the hypnotizing sound of wind through the leaves. Day after day I hid in the forest and nobody realized I was missing. I want to be invisible and it seems that I AM invisible. In the forest I heard the mountain's call. An overwhelming feeling inside to go explore all the mountains after my heart's desire, and I said Yes! I felt ready and confident I could backpack alone with some boy I could sleep with. A boy who looked appealing and wanted to come with me. Free to do what I want, go where I want, eat what I want when I want, sleep when I want as much as I want. That camp was my last camp.
Getting Back to My Love Life
When I was 16 I started dating and got back my love life. One man invited me to up the mountains to show me the mountains he grew up on and I sayed yes! He tought me what food to buy, we borrowed two backpacks and a tent. We took a train, then hitchiked our way up the montains as far as we could. Then we hiked up to the top. In the night we cooked polenta over an open fire and made love under the black sky full the stars. We never met again. never expected too. We both wanted that experience, we had it and it stays alive with me.
The other lover was a city, movie-going, sensitive, emotional guy who played in church orchestra with me. I played mandolin and he flute. He worked for a while in Germany, painting houses and making lots of money. One day, wiping the sweat from beneath his curly hair, he said, “I was not born to live in Romania. Romania is a dead end.” The way he said it, touched me. I was desperate to escape college which by now felt like the electric chair. Things like school, homework, college, career, 9-to-5 job, professional status, becoming somebody horrified me.They didn't make any sense to me. I neither wanted them nor felt capable of doing them. Words like these didn't exist in my vocabulary. I couldn't even think in those terms.
I needed badly money. To escape the whole school-career-job thing, I thought that even just wiping tables overseas would initially make me more money than a professional could make in Romania. So I decided to emigrate.I was told to try to become a somebody, a doctor, and I was about to start thinking maybe I should.My collision with this lover cured me forever of that ideaAfter him, becoming somebody never crossed my mind again.I only cared about love, babies and hustling for money. I know I'm a bum. And I know there are bums like me. So I'm not really afraid I'll be alone.
I needed badly money. To escape the whole school-career-job thing, I thought that even just wiping tables overseas would initially make me more money than a professional could make in Romania. So I decided to emigrate.I was told to try to become a somebody, a doctor, and I was about to start thinking maybe I should.My collision with this lover cured me forever of that ideaAfter him, becoming somebody never crossed my mind again.I only cared about love, babies and hustling for money. I know I'm a bum. And I know there are bums like me. So I'm not really afraid I'll be alone.
Cute, Stylish
1994 Alba Iulia, Romania
I keep falling for men who are cute and have style. I realize is a weakness of mine. I decide to smarten up. Next thing I know, I'm falling for another guy who is cute and has style. I stop trying to fight with myself and accept that I fall for cute men with style. Sometimes people call me intelectually challenged becasue I can't talk about most anything. You can be intelligent in many ways. I feel deeply - that is a form of intelligence. Sensitive people understand differently. "All can hear, but only the sensitive can understand.” Kahlil Gibran. Anyway, I started noticing something else. Some of the most psychologically unusual lovers I experienced were also unusually expressive about their appearance and style. It's easier to agree on what cute looks like. It's more of a visual thing. But when it comes to style, it's much more emotional, psychological, personal, coming from inside. There are people who are visually pleasing, put together from head to toe, or people who obviously have emotional sensitivity to aesthetics, uniqueness, and sophistication. They have style, but I don't like it. I like my own style the most. Then I get sick and tired of myself.
Thrill- On the way to Platinis, Romania
It was late November. The man I was with at the time and I took the 2:30 p.m. bus from Timisoara to Sibiu. We were supposed to arrive around 9:40 at night, sleep at the nearest hotel, and then catch the morning bus to Păltiniș, the small mountain ski resort. As the sun began to set, the bus started winding through mountain villages so beautiful they felt unreal. The houses were unlike anything I had ever seen. The streets, the architecture, the way people looked — everything felt different, almost like we had crossed into another country. Faces white as milk, blond hair, blue eyes. Transylvania seemed like a completely different world. Back in Banat, where I came from, people were mostly darker - dark eyes, dark hair, darker skin. Seeing those places inspired and excited me to extreme. I felt like wanting to see new faces and places at sunset my entire life. I felt I was going crazy overjoyed. A bit past 9.30 pm, we were driving through the night and I barely saw anything. It was only me and my boyfriend left in the bus, when the driver stopped and said "this is it, this bus doesn’t go any further". I look through the window and I see nothing, just pitch dark. We got off, the bus closed the doors and drove off so fast. I looked after it like "where is he going driving like a crazy". We found ourselves in a dark street with medieval buildings all around. No phone, no map. In any direction we looked it was the same, dark streets, old charming building, no people, no shops. We were dropped in the thick of a strange medieval suburb, or in a dream, not in a central location, not at the city's bus terminal as I expected. We had no idea which direction to go but it was dark, cold and we didn't have time. We started running straight ahead until the first corner. Then we had to pick a direction. We started to run towards more lit streets. For the next 2 hours that was all we knew " the next corner". We found a person and asked " Is this place Sibiu? Do you know a hotel close by? Yes was Sibiu! No hotel around. Which direction is the city center? That way! " So we ran that way until we lost direction again. Every corner I turned yet a another dimly lit stunning medieval street with old houses and cobblestone, underpasses, empty squares, old fountains, dark church walls, silent windows glowing faintly yellow behind curtains. I started laughing, drunk with joy, thrill and tiredness. Hopeless. We were not going anywhere. It was 11.30 pm, we stopped, I was sleepy and cold. Then a tiny woman opened a big door and got out from one of those old medieval houses. We asked if she knows a room for us to rent for the night. She said "come with me!". We followed her in another medieval house, went upstairs. The apartment had high ceilings and was so poorly lit I barely saw anything and I knew they were really poor. In the kitchen around the table there were three man and two women who looked at us suspiciously. The woman showed us a room on the left with old white big doors with glass and see through curtains. We asked when to pay now or in the morning? she said in the morning. We got in the room and I usually lock the door or put something heavy at the door but this time I didn't. I thought what does it matter, we are at their mercy. Went straight to sleep. In the morning I opened my eyes and thought first thing "I'm alive". We paid and left. Once in the street I felt good and safe, it was daylight and we had options. We found the bus terminal and caught the next bus to Paltinis on time
Picture perfect
1994 Timisoara, Romania Taking a late-night train going somewhere far away with a lover. Drinking from a baby bottle I just bought in the train station because in that picture perfect moment only a baby was missing.
Babies, Making Love, and Love
I'd been dating since sixteen and was tired of falling in and out of love with people I didn't even like. I hadn't found true love, hadn't come close. I decided that if a man wasn't true love, he at least had to be cute and useful. I was ready - I needed peace, I needed help, and I'd wanted babies since I was four or five. Words like marriage, honeymoon, cheating, social expectation simply weren't in my vocabulary. I need to be free, moment to moment, to do what I need to do - it's where my joy of life comes from, and I've never wanted anyone to take that away.
At twenty-one I went looking for a father for my future children and found one quickly. From a distance he looked cute, easy, stylish — like a cloud drifting above the crowd. He didn't want marriage; his dream was to keep moving, never own a home - the idea of owning property horrified him. I can feel a person from a mile off, and I only feel comfortable with the ones I feel comfortable with; I can pass through a thousand people and like none of them. When I actually like someone, it means something. He was from baptist church and turned out to be more intellectual than me, which unsettled me, since I already knew school wasn't my strength. I didn't think I was beautiful, but I knew I was sensual, and I was sick with worry that he wouldn't want me
I told him I liked him.He said he liked me too, because all the men he knew liked me. Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but at the end of the day, all was good if he liked me too. People went to warn him about me. Not only that I was sexually free and a perceived danger to some women who thought I wanted to take their man, but that I was dumb, that I talked about nothing but clothes and hair, that I never talked politics, that I couldn't carry a conversation.He already knew I was sexually free. He asked me if I would stop sleeping with other people. I said no. I love feeling alive. I love feeling life running through my blood. I love love. I love feeling desire. I love sex. I love being desired. I love being objectified. I'm comfortable having sex with strangers, and I'm not comfortable talking. I don't even want to talk.That's me.I love the way I feel in my own life. I love how alive everything can feel—minute by minute, day by day.And I love being both loyal and free. I can't stand the thought of being totally imprisoned or limited. Leave the door open.I said, “Take me as I am, or leave me to find someone who likes me as I am.” He chose to take me as I was.
I became the young mother of a sweet girl and a sweet boy, exactly as I had dreamed. I always wanted to be a young mother. We married becasue it was what people did and we were both from church. I was never afraid of being alone. Even when I am 105 years old, I believe I can still find someone who wants to make love with an old, wrinkled woman like me. He will probably be old and wrinkled too. As long as we are alive, we are not ugly. A person can still feel so good even if ugly. For me a wedding feels like a circus staged for everybody but me. I never wanted to have a wedding. I'm a shy, more solitray than social. I tried to wiggle myself out of it but I also can't say 'no'. We rented an over 100 years old beautiful church. Kept the church service unsually short. Then I disappeared from the restaurant reception. I didn't mean to or planned to, it just happened. A cousin "stole" me and we went to her house and stayed there. She said the tradition (I never heard of) is that the bride is stolen and the groom needs to find her. We stayed and stayed at her house and the groom never came. We finally called him to see if he is still searching and he ordered me back to restaurant angered to no ends, where the guests were still there. By the end of reception I felt a deep pain in my heart for not having found "true love" , whatever that even means. I don't truly believe in true love and most people never find it in their lifetime, was still at the back of my mind, still a dream since I was 4 or 5. I want someone who is mine and whom I love, and I want to feel incredibly privately close to them. It's a dream I can't escape. It drives me. I hold tide to my dream because it's all I have. But then I don't believe my dream. I don't think I believe dreams at all. I don't know where dreams come from. And then I think is foolish to wait, to waste your time and life for something that may not exist, something maybe idealistic, something you may never find. I think it's good to keep the dreams at the back of your mind but to also to get your hands as you go on anything you can, anyone that feels so good, anybody apealing, exciting, anybody who is comfortable, helpful. I know that the best time to prepare for the future is living your life today. True love in my mind is a fucking experience that feels in a certain way. Feels the best can be. Maybe feels like somebody gives you a kiss on your pussy but you love the person. Maybe sex + love= true love. Love is so abstract, what does it even mean. I guess I'll know when I'll experience. A dream of person who's in tune with me and I'm in tune with him. We don't need to talk because we both deeply feel and completely understand each other. A person who likes me the most and I like him the most. A person with whom I feel like the whole world had disappeared and I'm only me and him living on earth surrounded by beautiful nature, rain, storms, snow, seasons and nothing else. I may be looking for myself in a masculine form. There is an anonymous saying that true love is like a pair of socks: you need two, and they have to match. For someone who craves both intense emotional connection and excitement, love + sex, feels qualitatively different to me. Not simply like two good things added together, but like something belonging to an entirely different category of experience. Sex alone is easy enough to find. It can be exciting, intoxicating, even extraordinary for a while. But without emotion, it can eventually become repetitive, mechanical. The excitement burns brightly, but there isn't necessarily anything underneath it to keep the fire alive. No deep sense of belonging. The body is there, but the heart isn't fully there with it. Sex without emotional attachment feels empty to me.
And love without sex, or with pretend sex (words sex), doesn't attract me either. Its like school - words, abstract, ideaa, more words and more ideas with no reality to it. Eventualy becomes exausting, useless, sick, makes you feel like you waste my time and life.
The hardest thing to find is two people who want each other, who feel intensly for each other - love, desire, tenderness, fascination, longing. Who choose each other freely (rather than from fear, obligation, money, habit, social expectations). Who trust each other. Have desire for each other - wanting the other physically and emotionally, not merely caring about them. Share the reality - making love, waking up together, eating, traveling, walking, touching, dealing with problems. Have freedom within the connection- being together because you want to, not because you are trapped, imprisoned. Sounds beautiful and idealistic. Do I belive I will find? No, I don't. I don't even trust tomorrow comes. I trust today and now, that is for sure. Reality is everyone has something you have to put up with, you keep your head down and put the other first or yopu can't really be with anybody.Anything is a waste of time unless you are fucking well or creating well or getting well or looming toward a kind of phantom-love-happiness.” Charles Bukowski "True love can make a blade of grass Stand up straight and tall In harmony with the cosmic sea True love needs no company It can cure the soul, it can make it whole If dogs run free" Bob Dylan
Love-bombing and falling in love feel much more alive to me than simply passing time with family, friends, pets, or television. I've spent my whole life practicing the art of love in every form I know.
At twenty-one I went looking for a father for my future children and found one quickly. From a distance he looked cute, easy, stylish — like a cloud drifting above the crowd. He didn't want marriage; his dream was to keep moving, never own a home - the idea of owning property horrified him. I can feel a person from a mile off, and I only feel comfortable with the ones I feel comfortable with; I can pass through a thousand people and like none of them. When I actually like someone, it means something. He was from baptist church and turned out to be more intellectual than me, which unsettled me, since I already knew school wasn't my strength. I didn't think I was beautiful, but I knew I was sensual, and I was sick with worry that he wouldn't want me
I told him I liked him.He said he liked me too, because all the men he knew liked me. Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but at the end of the day, all was good if he liked me too. People went to warn him about me. Not only that I was sexually free and a perceived danger to some women who thought I wanted to take their man, but that I was dumb, that I talked about nothing but clothes and hair, that I never talked politics, that I couldn't carry a conversation.He already knew I was sexually free. He asked me if I would stop sleeping with other people. I said no. I love feeling alive. I love feeling life running through my blood. I love love. I love feeling desire. I love sex. I love being desired. I love being objectified. I'm comfortable having sex with strangers, and I'm not comfortable talking. I don't even want to talk.That's me.I love the way I feel in my own life. I love how alive everything can feel—minute by minute, day by day.And I love being both loyal and free. I can't stand the thought of being totally imprisoned or limited. Leave the door open.I said, “Take me as I am, or leave me to find someone who likes me as I am.” He chose to take me as I was.
I became the young mother of a sweet girl and a sweet boy, exactly as I had dreamed. I always wanted to be a young mother. We married becasue it was what people did and we were both from church. I was never afraid of being alone. Even when I am 105 years old, I believe I can still find someone who wants to make love with an old, wrinkled woman like me. He will probably be old and wrinkled too. As long as we are alive, we are not ugly. A person can still feel so good even if ugly. For me a wedding feels like a circus staged for everybody but me. I never wanted to have a wedding. I'm a shy, more solitray than social. I tried to wiggle myself out of it but I also can't say 'no'. We rented an over 100 years old beautiful church. Kept the church service unsually short. Then I disappeared from the restaurant reception. I didn't mean to or planned to, it just happened. A cousin "stole" me and we went to her house and stayed there. She said the tradition (I never heard of) is that the bride is stolen and the groom needs to find her. We stayed and stayed at her house and the groom never came. We finally called him to see if he is still searching and he ordered me back to restaurant angered to no ends, where the guests were still there. By the end of reception I felt a deep pain in my heart for not having found "true love" , whatever that even means. I don't truly believe in true love and most people never find it in their lifetime, was still at the back of my mind, still a dream since I was 4 or 5. I want someone who is mine and whom I love, and I want to feel incredibly privately close to them. It's a dream I can't escape. It drives me. I hold tide to my dream because it's all I have. But then I don't believe my dream. I don't think I believe dreams at all. I don't know where dreams come from. And then I think is foolish to wait, to waste your time and life for something that may not exist, something maybe idealistic, something you may never find. I think it's good to keep the dreams at the back of your mind but to also to get your hands as you go on anything you can, anyone that feels so good, anybody apealing, exciting, anybody who is comfortable, helpful. I know that the best time to prepare for the future is living your life today. True love in my mind is a fucking experience that feels in a certain way. Feels the best can be. Maybe feels like somebody gives you a kiss on your pussy but you love the person. Maybe sex + love= true love. Love is so abstract, what does it even mean. I guess I'll know when I'll experience. A dream of person who's in tune with me and I'm in tune with him. We don't need to talk because we both deeply feel and completely understand each other. A person who likes me the most and I like him the most. A person with whom I feel like the whole world had disappeared and I'm only me and him living on earth surrounded by beautiful nature, rain, storms, snow, seasons and nothing else. I may be looking for myself in a masculine form. There is an anonymous saying that true love is like a pair of socks: you need two, and they have to match. For someone who craves both intense emotional connection and excitement, love + sex, feels qualitatively different to me. Not simply like two good things added together, but like something belonging to an entirely different category of experience. Sex alone is easy enough to find. It can be exciting, intoxicating, even extraordinary for a while. But without emotion, it can eventually become repetitive, mechanical. The excitement burns brightly, but there isn't necessarily anything underneath it to keep the fire alive. No deep sense of belonging. The body is there, but the heart isn't fully there with it. Sex without emotional attachment feels empty to me.
And love without sex, or with pretend sex (words sex), doesn't attract me either. Its like school - words, abstract, ideaa, more words and more ideas with no reality to it. Eventualy becomes exausting, useless, sick, makes you feel like you waste my time and life.
The hardest thing to find is two people who want each other, who feel intensly for each other - love, desire, tenderness, fascination, longing. Who choose each other freely (rather than from fear, obligation, money, habit, social expectations). Who trust each other. Have desire for each other - wanting the other physically and emotionally, not merely caring about them. Share the reality - making love, waking up together, eating, traveling, walking, touching, dealing with problems. Have freedom within the connection- being together because you want to, not because you are trapped, imprisoned. Sounds beautiful and idealistic. Do I belive I will find? No, I don't. I don't even trust tomorrow comes. I trust today and now, that is for sure. Reality is everyone has something you have to put up with, you keep your head down and put the other first or yopu can't really be with anybody.Anything is a waste of time unless you are fucking well or creating well or getting well or looming toward a kind of phantom-love-happiness.” Charles Bukowski "True love can make a blade of grass Stand up straight and tall In harmony with the cosmic sea True love needs no company It can cure the soul, it can make it whole If dogs run free" Bob Dylan
Love-bombing and falling in love feel much more alive to me than simply passing time with family, friends, pets, or television. I've spent my whole life practicing the art of love in every form I know.
Emigrating
2004 Timisora, RO and Great Barrier Reef, Australia
In 2004 I graduate a private IT college that took me for my money becasue i couldn't have passed the entry exam in other college. And where I attended about 2% of the time and learnt nothing. School was sureal for me. I can't explain how sick it made me feel about people and life in general and not being able to escape that was sureal. In 2004 I emigrate from Romania to Australia in 2008 I emigrated from Australia to Portland, OR I wished I fit in with Romanian culture but I didn't. I hoped to fit with Australian or American culture but I didn't. In America, I realized I don't fit with groups of people and I'm fine with it. I may fit in with some people but not with groups of people and its how it is.
Bob Dylan
2014 Portland, ORMy first Bob Dylan Concert
In 2012 I discover Bob Dylan and I say: this person is like me. Like sort of looks, feels, thinks, behaves somehow familiar. A current of overjoy goes through me from top to toe. I feel liberated. I don't need to change myself to fit society, not that I even tried yet but I thought I might have to once I start work. If he managed to make serious money being himself, so different from society, I can too. Over the years I went back to him again and back to him again and got to know more and more about him. I watched him remain- so cute all across his life. He's first of all exciting. He feels like the sun. Looks inspiring, cunty, gutsy, intensely alive, with fire (passion), with light (wisdom), extra energy, soulful, unconventional, led by his heart not by the crowd, sensitive, shy, vulnerable, with personal style, with feeling for what looks best, sounds best, productive, with outlaw free spirit style . Cares to live the best life can be like me. He is so wise, says things better than anyone. I don't want to miss a thing he says. He and his music will be with me all my life - I can’t imagine a day without. He made my life alive again, beautiful again, and warmer again. He beautified my life. Romania is a beautiful country, but I found a beautiful man in America. His music gives me a feeling about him that is the best feeling I have ever experienced - a feeling nobody else has ever given me.He feels like "my man" (I felt twice before "this is my man" with two other men I knew close to nothing when I met them, I just liked them a lot and turned out to not work or last but it still felt the best ), like something of myself.He feels the best since this Universe. Before, I said- I’ll recognize him when I see him. Now I know the type of men I like. What can be better in this life than a fine, fine lover. I like his face, it feels familiar to me. The way he moves feels so good to me. I've been to seven of his concerts, and simply sharing the room with him fills me with energy. His presence feels so good to be around. I want to feel every day this way. I would love to find someone who feels so exciting to sleep besides, eat with, walk down the street with.
One inspiration
2015 Greenwich Village, NY
On Bob Dylans steps to see how it feels. By now I'm crazy about Bob Dylan, I find him the only inspirational person. I read somewhere that you should consider yourself lucky if you find at least one person to inspire you. I feel lucky for sure.
I Change My Hair Color
2016 Portland, ORI gave birth to my kids in 2001 and 2006.For about ten years, until my oldest was around nine and my youngest around six, I loved my kids so much they became my whole world.
I breastfed each of them for 15 months. I cooked for them. Stayed home with them. Watched them all the time, making sure nothing bad happened. I filled the house with musical instruments, brushes, canvases, dolls and cars. I didn't have a car but we lived across an art shop. Every time I saw advertsed as big as the window 75%off, I went and bought more paints and canvases. I taught them to swim, ski, snowboard, and camp.
I didn't want to run them from one activity to another all day. I don't like exhausting myself. I like simple life.
For about ten years, the rest of the world disappeared.
My kids were my world.
In 2011, my oldest was about nine and my youngest about six. They were old enough to know not to run in front of a car. When I felt a call to start roaming the earth again. I wanted new love. Old love. Romance. Sex. Thrill. Adventure. New people. New faces. New places. New experiences
And I said YES.
The settled-down life wasn't enough for me anymore.
So I went.
And somewhere along the way, I changed my hair. My natural hair was brown. I made it blonde.
I wanted to look different. I wanted to feel different. I wanted romance. I wanted adventure. I wanted to feel like a woman entering a new life. I met new people and entered new worlds. I have always been attracted to people who are stylish, fun and soulful. I wanted to be around people who made life feel bigger, more beautiful, more alive. I colided with people who could talk beautifully without living beautifully. Transactional relationships. Cutthroat business dealings . People using words instead of sex, promises instead of action. A world of fantasy, smoke and mirrors. It was very different from the non business world I had known. I felt like running and hiding but also I wanted to stay open becasue I alwyss kooked up to America. America was rich. America knew how to make money. I had always been poor. I knew how to keep my head down and get away easily. Let the other person go first. Don't make trouble. Don't ask for too much. Keep your daily bread. Keep a roof over your head. Be useful so nobody has a reason to throw you out. I wanted to understand America. I wanted to learn how this place worked. I wanted to adapt without losing myself.
And somewhere along the way, I changed my hair. My natural hair was brown. I made it blonde.
I wanted to look different. I wanted to feel different. I wanted romance. I wanted adventure. I wanted to feel like a woman entering a new life. I met new people and entered new worlds. I have always been attracted to people who are stylish, fun and soulful. I wanted to be around people who made life feel bigger, more beautiful, more alive. I colided with people who could talk beautifully without living beautifully. Transactional relationships. Cutthroat business dealings . People using words instead of sex, promises instead of action. A world of fantasy, smoke and mirrors. It was very different from the non business world I had known. I felt like running and hiding but also I wanted to stay open becasue I alwyss kooked up to America. America was rich. America knew how to make money. I had always been poor. I knew how to keep my head down and get away easily. Let the other person go first. Don't make trouble. Don't ask for too much. Keep your daily bread. Keep a roof over your head. Be useful so nobody has a reason to throw you out. I wanted to understand America. I wanted to learn how this place worked. I wanted to adapt without losing myself.
Seattle, WA roaming
Nov 2017 trip to Seattle.
I had no plans to go anywhere, its a week before Thanksgiving, I'm hoping for the first blizard of the year to come and I'm just browsing and I see this Airbnb place that looks appealing to me. It's in Seattle. It's something historical because has red brick in rooms and I love that type of interior wall. Maybe its weird to say that I fell in love with the apartment and i needed it to experience it right then. So I book this apartment for a night just because I love how it looks and I go by train to Seattle. I never traveled by train in States and wanted to try. I arrive at Portland train old station and I love how it looks. I see lots of people, like country side people with bags, sacks, musical instruments waiting to get on the train to Seattle. I thought "oh in States only country people travel by train". I get to Seattle and it seemed that cool place I booked on Airbnb was an apartment owned by the same person who owned the Merchants Cafe (Seattle’s oldest restaurant) that was located right under the apartment. It was an old stylish hotel form 1890. The owner, when I arrived, was decorating the place for Christmas and I got so happy to see that. She showed me to my apartment and said "You'll sleep alone tonight; no other room was rented". I get in the apartment and after I get in, the kitchen tap faucet starts on it's own. I go and close it. In a few hours it turns on again by itself. I said "what the fuck, never seen anything like it". I go to it and I close it yet again tighter. Anyway, in the evening I go down to their restaurant I get a beer and something to eat. There is no one in restaurant but they have nice music, outside is raining and I see many of homeless people walking by taking to themselves. I was not used with seeing homeless people at all. After they closed the restaurant, I decide I want more wine and I go to a shop around the block. I get in there and there is no customer but soon a man comes next to me. I reach out to pick up a product and he reaches out to pick up the product right next and his hand is parallel with mine and is touching mine. I don't get scared, and I don't pull my hand, I just linger as much as I need. Then I go to the next isle and find a bottle of wine and I go to pay. I try to pay with the card and right next to the card machine there is a dog sitting and his mouth is next to the card reader. I don't get scared and just pay. When I try to get out of the shop I can't because there are 5 homeless young people blocking me and not letting me out. I looked at them with no fear and they seem so much like me, dressed in the exactly same type of hand me down jackets with hoods and shoes I had in Romania. I feel a kinship and I linger since I can't see a way out. I let them look at me and smell me then I just showed that I need to go and push gently through going about my way. I go up to my apartment I knock myself out with drinking then I have a shower and fall asleep. In the morning I start researching where I got myself into. That's kind of how I do things. I see that the places I'm at, is a haunted place with scary stories. Oh well, I had absolutely no idea. I checked out and left the place excited. The Settle train station looked really beautiful but oddly enough all the people who were waiting to get in the train to Portland looked Intellectuals, professionals and students. It was not the country crowd I came from Portland with.
Astoria, OR roaming & Thích Nhất Hạnh
2018After spending most of my life deaf and blind to most people, here cames Thích Nhất Hạnh- the only person who seems to get completely through to me.
I want to know everything everything he says. What I learned from him helped me more than I can say. So much of what I had always wanted to know, I found in his words—but deeper.
I discoverd him in 2018 and I read him so much that I kwo his words by heart.
It's funny that I feel sensuality in my body and in my life, and then I'm paying such close attention to a monk. But Thích Nhất Hạnh had a practice of living in the present moment, of touching life deeply. That was exactly what I craved too.
I discoverd him in 2018 and I read him so much that I kwo his words by heart.
It's funny that I feel sensuality in my body and in my life, and then I'm paying such close attention to a monk. But Thích Nhất Hạnh had a practice of living in the present moment, of touching life deeply. That was exactly what I craved too.
Road trip in America
2019Oregon to Washington to Idaho to Montana to Wyoming to Colorado to Utah, back through Idaho and home to Oregon. I came back from that trip energized. In love with the land, feeling American for the first time. I've noticed I can only visit a place about three times before I get bored of it.
My Jeep & Condo
2022In 2022 I bought a brand-new Jeep - I'd always wanted one and never seriously considered anything else. I love a stylish car, but nothing comes close to the Jeep for me; there's no second-best. It's not an easy car to drive, essentially a truck, but I've gotten used to it, and people always ask how I manage it every day. I love it, and that's simply how. Getting on the road resets something in me every time — I feel like myself again, like the world just opened back up into a playground. Being on the road every week makes me happy; it keeps alive the hope of real love, of people who've followed their hearts, of vagabonds and adventure and new faces. Going is the medicine that keeps me free, sane, and loving. Whenever I feel low, I get moving, and it helps almost instantly.
With the Jeep, I never compared it to other cars — once it fit, the question of alternatives just stopped mattering. It's the same with Bob Dylan: it isn't that I ran a contest and he won. He simply hit something exact, and "second best" stopped being a category that applied.
Roaming constantly gets expensive and exhausting, so I bought a tiny two-room condo — the cheapest I could find — a place that belongs only to me, somewhere to retreat, recharge, and stay true to myself. I can only really relax alone. Owning things, having possessions, starts to feel like a drag; the possessions start to own you. I'm moving to LA now, chasing sun and work, and I'm not sure I want to own anything else. Renting suits me better — I just need enough money to keep doing it.Camping in nature, living off-grid in a small cabin, driving my Jeep, staying alone in my condo, moving my home from place to place—all of it inspires me and makes me dream. It makes me want to write poetry or make love.
Charles Buckowski & Jack Kerouack & Disneyland
Charles Buckowski
I discover in 2023 Charles Buckowski a bum like me, into love and looking for the one like me, horified by the same things as me, disliking same thinghs like me. Thank you God for Charles Buckowski, makes me feel so much better in the world
Jack Kerouack
I discovered in 2023 Jack Kerouack yet more people I want to know everything everything they say. Yet more people like me
George Michael and Michael Jackson I discoverd both since I was a teenager and they are so close to my heart like I'm not even aware of them. And maybe its too painful, too close too my heart and maybe I don't want to be like them
2023 Disneyland I've been in 2011 to Disneyland CA and in 2023 to Disneyland Florida and I felt sick both places. The sickness feeling came from crowds being so happy or pretending to be happy (I wouldn't know which one is) and my misery, my inability to enjoy any rides while longing for exciting rides. One of my favorite things is rides on music. But at both Disneylands there is no music and only boring things and rollercoasters. I've been on two small rollercoasters and I thought I was about to die. I hated them so much. I have no understanding of Disneyland and no love for it but I dream of a fun amusement park. One of the saddest most sickening is when something like a playground or amusement park is supposed to be fun and is not or when you enter in a furniture store and everything is ugly when was supposed to me appealing, warm and inviting
George Michael and Michael Jackson I discoverd both since I was a teenager and they are so close to my heart like I'm not even aware of them. And maybe its too painful, too close too my heart and maybe I don't want to be like them
2023 Disneyland I've been in 2011 to Disneyland CA and in 2023 to Disneyland Florida and I felt sick both places. The sickness feeling came from crowds being so happy or pretending to be happy (I wouldn't know which one is) and my misery, my inability to enjoy any rides while longing for exciting rides. One of my favorite things is rides on music. But at both Disneylands there is no music and only boring things and rollercoasters. I've been on two small rollercoasters and I thought I was about to die. I hated them so much. I have no understanding of Disneyland and no love for it but I dream of a fun amusement park. One of the saddest most sickening is when something like a playground or amusement park is supposed to be fun and is not or when you enter in a furniture store and everything is ugly when was supposed to me appealing, warm and inviting
Alaska
2023
I'm landing in Anchorage, Alaska. I drive to Talkeetna where I see all the neighbors going and coming home by little airplains. I drive to Cantwell , next day I drive to visit Denaly Mountains wich can be visited only by bus. I take a bus and the bus driver points to a moose resting on a piece of unmelted snow and says "the moose is conserving energy". I thought I'm a lot like that moose. I try to get next to Valdez but the car breaks down so I go back for a night to Anchorage to get another car. With a new car I drive all the way to Valdez barely making it before the dark becasue there was al lot of puring rain, rivers and melted snow washing roads and many roads were in construction. The nature is very peaceful and wild. I get to Valdez and I get inspired and I fall in love with it. There are no traffic signs becasue there is barely any car. I said I want to live exactly here. While in Valdeze there is an earthquake I feel. It was only one jolt. From Valdez I need to get to Girdwood but I refuse to drive the same road I just came on. I want to go all around by ferry even though I know the online ferry tickes got sold out months ago. I go to the ferry station and there are no tickets but they said the day of departure to come at 5 am to get a walk in ticket wich won't gurantee that my car will have a place but to try. I wake at 4 am and try to be at 4:40 am before others to get a ticket but I was late. In front of me there were already some kayakars and two other cars. By 8 am they manged to fit all the cars on the ship except my car and a motorcycle. Finally they signal to drive the car and I see that the only place left was barely to fit my car and the motorcicle. They fit all the cars so tight and with such precison that there was barely any space left all around my car on the ship. I aboultely love the ferry ride. Is bumpy, is cold, is splashy, is scary, is rainy, I love the ship food, I love it all. I get off at Whittier and drive to Girdwood, a ski resort I want to check out. I love the ski resort and I say I want to come to ski maybe I will even see the northlights. From Girdwood I drive to Seaward and from there I do Kenai Fjords National Park Cruise wich was exciting and inspirational. The boat captain, was one of the most passionate about nature, fun, exciting and cool persons I have ever seen and he was actually from Tillamook, Oregon where I live some times. Tillammok is a bit like in a diferent world. Mountain people and cruise captains are some of the most appealing and exciting people on earth. There is something about wilderness and people who live in wildernesss that make life feel so real and exciting.
Tuscany country side
2024 Tuscany country side Peaceful countryside all around, an old stone house with red brick floors, beautiful art, an old piano, and wood-burning fireplaces. In this place I immediately got in touch completely with myself, became one with nature and my dream and the whole world, and any sense of time completely disappeared. I thought: this is how I want to live and feel for the rest of my life. I could see myself living in nature with my lover through spring blossoms, summer heat and rain, autumn winds, and quiet winters forever.
2026
2026