these past 2-3 days i was alone in cluj. i know (i do?) it’s not supposed to happen, especially when you have friends at a few buttons’ distance and a nokia recharger. but also, it was the weekend. it rained. there were weddings. there was cleaning and shopping to do. in my room (coffee, then one more coffee, in my cracked cup; salad in my glazed bowl), i started to remember, and tried to see how it was, what exactly the taste of spending one sunday afternoon in bed, the light (the air) coming in through the (so large) window. also, i listened to my old tapes. it wasn’t sad, most of the time. all those things are just pretence, i can listen to anything without flinching. i can even stand nothing and i won’t flinch. much. also, i walked. i walked home at nights, alone. the straight route. i didn’t smoke. i didn’t drink. i wrote something small and unexpected, but mostly i tend to be concerned with who i’m dedicating my book to, and the acknowledgements, and the order of the stories…which is supposed to be wrong, since half the stories don’t exist, not even in their shadiest form. also, right now i’m at cla’s (yes it’s 5 a.m. and since i happened upon a computer and it’s mine for the night i’m not sleeping yet, what’s the big news, i’ll sleep at noon). i saw 2 great kids these days – miruna and maria. better and better. i should say something about escu maybe – but no, the village and the scarf i knit in the village and the colors on the scarf i knit in the village and the 2 kittens in the village (miranda and frida) and my attempts at work in the village deserve their own post or nothing at all.
(meaning, nothing at all, probably, right now. it’s 5 a.m. and tonight i took a big step, i think, towards acting casual. facebook did it to me again, and i’m safe and sound and smiling. the truth is, the old trick of ‘reward comes post-despair’ is starting to piss me off).
so yes, i had to be alone in cluj. it’s as if nothing has changed. the textures are the same, and they might’ve cleaned up and straightened it, but on sunday it’s a damn small and empty town. the wedding claxons start by 10 a.m., and afterwards it’s just wedding claxons and party music, and the echoes of them in everything that’s said or not said. i’m out of here tomorrow. people who make children here are planning to take them out before school age. i’m thinking right now, what a weird generation it will be, of european citizens. and us, wishing them freedom, denying them this bitterness, let them find their own. this is ours – ours.