29.04.2016

Friday. I was a bit late to the game, I haven't felt that well in my mind for a couple of days, I had some errands to run in the morning but wasn't on par with my self-imposed schedule for today, so I postponed another appointment for later on. I hate when I have to do that, change people's programs too, but I'm fortunate when I have the wiggle-room (and especially the other ones involved) in the schedule to do it. It went ok. Time to go get food and combine that trip with another task to finish, when it starts raining outside. And I mean pouring. I don't like that at all, it renders me inactive, lazy, out of ambition to get out. I get it done anyway. Good thing I lived in the UK for 4 years and learned how to get through this weather and still get stuff done. It's quite simple: you set out 100 things to do that are impossible to finish in one day, so you finish as much as you can, so at the end of the day you're frustrated that some tasks are left over for the next day, but then you look back and can't give yourself too much shit for not having done more, because you realize you've been on the run non-stop, sweaty and with aching calves at the end of the day, and it's past midnight. Always keeping busy and wondering how time flies. Gives life a purpose. Keeps my guard up. In some ways... I was on the bus, and as it was pulling out of one station, I see this lady that just missed it, running towards the door and trying to plead for the driver to open the door for her too, as he just shut the door when she was almost there. So it could've easily been done on his behalf. Instead, he drives off, slowly turning the vehicle, but the lady didn't back away as he was pulling away, and I thought she was alarmingly close to the bus, hoping she would take a step back or something. Sure enough, the bus stops and the passengers' gazes are all headed out the window. They looked like they were watching a pigeon pick out some bread-crumbs. They started to mumble something. I see a head. I see a coat. I see the rest of the lady's body as it was lying on the concrete. The bus hit her and she was on the ground, seeming unconscious. I wanted to motion to the driver to open the doors, that she needs help. He was already out, checking the situation. The people (I think all of them elderly) were commenting "oh she was drunk, didn't you see her??" and "yeah, she's a drunk, she always comes around this area, walking around loaded" or "I just saw her collapse 3 more times just on her way to the bus, she's drunk out of her mind, leave her be". So, if someone is drunk, and it somehow causes a discomfort in the day's schedule for those people, we should let the bitch get run over by a bus. She deserves it. That bitch. How dare she attempt to drown her middle-age sorrows with booze and not take in the wonderful life that the country's and especially the capital's population so gently and flamboyantly has to offer? She had a bag and a backpack. The driver and two other men came to help her up. She wasn't bleeding from the head or anywhere, she got up and was crying. It was more of an inner-cry. No tears or snot. Just...a person who seems to be crying and drinking all the time, and then starting it all over the next day. They lifted the bag for her, but her backpack still lay on the ground, as it was soaking in the puddle it fell. It was still pouring outside. It almost seemed like the atmosphere and climate called for an incident like this. And the people. And the comments. She got on the bus - to the dismay of the passengers, who didn't seem to want her on, because they feared she would go on a drunk rant, and if someone's not doing ok and are in a bad state while it pours outside and it doesn't seem like they'll be doing pretty dandy after the sun comes up again either, the drunk just doesn't deserve to be treated like a human being, even granted a bus ride. Deep down, those people were almost sorry that she didn't just collapse and bleed to death. "Yeah, that's what she gets for being drunk...now you die, you drunk bitch! Fuck your colored bags and puffy eyes, and beaten-in nose, fuck all that you stand for, you made us be 2 minutes late and offered us the opportunity to take part in an exciting accident, but now you're ok, with your fucking colored bags and soaked clothes and all!". This man kept telling her that she's drunk and she should "lay off the fucking booze, why don't she". She initially mumbled "ah, why don't you shut up!". He kept at it, to which she replied, still mumbling while trying to regain balance, "if you only know the pains I go through, with or without the booze...". The bus stopped at the last station and most of the people got out. Not her. I went on hopping inbetween puddles, to avoid them, and headed to the music store to buy a pair of drum sticks for the drummer in the band I play guitar in. It's gonna pour like it started today, for the next two weeks.

27.04.2016

Tome to start posting again. I don't think it has to do with feeling the need to write, as it does with maintaining the level of English i currently possess...which has waned a bit over the years anyway. So here goes. These days i keep busy by keeping busy. I seek opportunities to keep me busy and away from home or just constantly on my way somewhere, at all times. It helps me because it doesn't give me any down time to think too far ahead, and just make plans in the near future. Because I realized this is what I have gotten used to, for a long while now. I like making plans for the future, but I find that I'm a bit more productive when I take small steps, so as to not overwhelm myself. I think, these days, my "anchor" activity comes on Sundays, when I set out to complete my "To do list" for the next week. I analyze what i need to do in general, who I need to call, who I need to meet, and so on...and I just follow those tasks, step by step, and always come back to opening that document, to fiddle around with the chronology of the tasks, depending on how the day evolves. This is something I learned from working for Elliot at Discovering Arts Music Group (DAMG) in London. I learned a lot from there. One of my main sources of income these days - an idea and situation I am particularly not proud of, but mostly aesthetically, as it comes in discordance with what I thought I set out for myself to be...or at least, I feel like it's keeping me away from taking that leap into adulthood and enabling me to...grow up a bit - is playing guitar in a band, which will remain unnamed for now, as will most of the people mentioned in this blog. Not because I want to protect their identities, but because I mainly want to get the situations out in writing, regardless of the people involved. We released another video/single today. I have no positive recollections of the songwriting process and video shooting experience. I did, in the beginning, but they ere trampled upon. First because they kept changing the song...I thought its first version was great...then it kept getting ruined by "newer" ideas. it kept getting worse, in my opinion, but I am not the one who takes the main creative decisions in the band, I've accepted my role...for the time being. So frankly, I don't like the song. I liked it a lot in the beginning, now I think it's cute but mediocre. At least I hope the "fans" like it, and that it will open new doors, with it being radio-friendly and all. The video, on the other hand, something that I thought would rekindle my adoration for the song, finding the idea for the video, that is...was a major disappointment. A piece of shit, to be frank. A puerile story line with elements that has been overused so many times before...not to mention that the first version (the one that aired at the release concert) lacked a coherent plot line due to the director omitting to shoot a vital scene for the story. The problem was repaired, but now this brings me back to where I stood on the issue before the plot line bug - before, it was a majestic piece of shit that lacked a coherent plot line, whereas now it is a straight-forward majestic piece of shit, waste of time and money. Again, I hope the others like it it enough for my disdain for it to somehow be veiled by the outside appreciation, so I can at least just enjoy the fruits of this labor, in the form of money and other perks. At the beginning of the show, the drummer told me that I should be careful with how I play, because due to his in-ear monitor, he can hear everything, as in all my mistakes. Ok. See, that's why I don't like playing live. I personally care that the song should sound perfectly and flawlessly recorded OR EDITED in its final released version, that will outlast any of us, once it is recorded. Live...I can only do my best to not mess it up, but I don't like playing live, I'm not a good PERFORMER, I don't feel anything I do comes out perfectly form the first take, and if it does, it's luck. And I'm not a gambler. So at every live show...I gamble. Anyway, I messed up during almost every song, I think, once he warned me that all my mistakes will be heard. Ok, thanks, here's all these mistakes to keep your ears busy, enjoy. I didn't feel very good during the show. I just wasn't in the mood for it. There was this annoying kid that comes at every show of every band and always wants to be in the center of their attention, always begging for merch stuff and just being overly pushy, he was at the side of the stage and kept striking up stupid conversations (along the lines of "hey, can you ask your lead vocalist to give me this and that? hey can you give me 5 more picks? hey, can I keep asking to take stuff from you and act like we're pals for a long time and we talk like bros, WHILE YOU'RE PLAYING THIS SHOW IN FRONT OF THIS SOLD-OUT CROWD???". Good idea. You get a slow clap. Now leave me the fuck alone, please. I don't respond to your messages because they always start (and end with, since I never engage, and always mark as unseen) with "I need to ask you for a huge favor!". No. So there was this, and I just didn't wanna ruin my mood by saying "hey can we do this at some other time when I don't have to listen to whatever it is you think is important, while this cabinet is blasting right behind us at full wattage, and I have to kneel and bend over to listen to you, while I try to play the songs that people paid to hear me play correctly, and not watch me talk to you?". Cause I Don't think he would've gotten it. But from now, next time I see him I'll let him know that I just don't want that anymore, and I'll do my best to move away from where he is when i see him. I didn't like the show at all. I don't think I was good. the only advantage of that is that no one cares about my performance. Not the band, not the fans. They like the energy of the band. I was told by 3 people that night that myself and the DJ seem to be from another movie, that we don't "click" with the rest of the band, as they're energetic and jump around, while said DJ and I seem to be more introverted. I feel like the reason I make mistakes is because i keep spazzing out, trying to be energetic and offer an ok performance on my behalf, by my standards. I guess it doesn't work. i'll take it into consideration. I packed the stuff off stage, and went home, with the girl I'm seeing. A small argument about dropping a phone, and off to sleep we were.

first post out of the UK

back on the air. the blog's audience missed me. which means...i missed myself.
what an arrogant prick. (three sentences in and the self-denigrating remarks are already kicking in). arrogant for what? i don't understand how this works: i show signs of being arrogant, narcissistic and self-absorbed...yet all of this is to trick myself into thinking i'm the opposite of what i actually feel like. if i would act in accordance with my state of mind...there would be silence. i'm not saying there WON'T be silence...but while analyzing myself i observe some behavioral signs that raise many questions in my head. and answering these questions keeps me going, now that ia have become and experiment to myself, ever since i started...thinking about stuff.
babble babble babble. matei babbles on. on and on and on and on and!

i went to romania for the christmas. i've felt more alone than usual. it was a different type of alone than the first three months in the UK. i think it was a worse form. in the UK, i didn't have anyone to hang out with and feel whole. in Romania, i hung out with everyone, mainly girls, and have felt more far away from them than ever. i think i reeked of desperation. this is what giving attention to people and not seeming like an emotionless asshole gets you in today's world: a void in whatever the fuck is called the soul. damn! if this approach left me feeling like this...how will i trick myself into attempting a different one? i'm dying fast. i lock new doors before even opening them. why so? it's time to stop blaming my problems on others, it's already become about me: i'm at fault. "keep this mentality up and then don't be surprised if therein lies the answer to the mental problems" said i in a sarcastic silent tone of a thought.

i read some of my previous posts and i like them better than this one. i'm losing my ability to write. i should be gaining things now and i should start learning to maintain them, be aware of them. instead i feel like a grain of sand slipping through my own hands.

it's not good. i seem to not know where i'm headed. i'm suspended somewhere with no horizons to guide my landing.

crisis. as time goes by i realize how many things i haven't done when i was supposed to, and become more and more aware of the hypocrisy i kept feeding to myself throughout the years. dare i say i am a retarded form of benjamin button: turning younger day by day in that i become less and less mature.

i don't know. it's a very confusing period. and the confusing period should've passed already. i feel like a teenager. well at least that keeps the spirit young. for what? it's not like i trick time into getting more of it to decide where i', headed.

i'm only tricking myself. after all...it IS my world that i live in, no?

yes.

Last Post out of Romania

I should have buff eyes...cause my eye-lids are heavier than weights. Again. I hate feeling tired. Because i don't (or have got it in my head that i don't) do anything the whole day so there should be nothing feeling tired for. I don't DESERVE to feel tired!!! It's like...i get tired from being tired. Talk about the lowest form of existence. You know, Ronnie James Dio once said in an interview that "sleep is just a waste of time". Of course the organism needs it, it's a necessity for it, but i know that what he meant to say is that - in terms of TIME - ...time doesn't stop when one sleeps. Things still go on! It's sad...even those who live to be a hundred have only actually LIVED 50 years. Minus the first 5 years that few remember...45 is a pretty young age to die. And if 45 is the highest one can go...then you better start making a plan and get on with it! Hah...it's like a job: it claims to pay a certain salary...but almost half of that salary gets taken away for income and taxes. And half is quite the noticeable sum.

I like RedBull. I don't know if it actually has its toll on me or if it's just the placebo acting up. RedBull. It got me through some tough exams during the exam sessions at law school...actually i think i started having feelings for "tha 'Bull" when i had to take an exam the next day, i was beat, i drank it, and was able to study for a whole night just enough to pass that test the next day, it was unbelievable. Of course, i could've broken up with it when one night before hte Constitutional Law exam i had one sip and the next thing i know - the piercing pain from my peritonitis kicked in. It was the last such pain i was going to endure because the pain caused by that sip didn't stop (went on through the exam, through the stress with Roxana not talking to me when we were taking the same test in the same room) until i got the surgery that cost me 3 exams. Which later caused the stress of having 8 exams to retake during the fall session, 8 being a number that pretty much had me canned, sipped my last drop of optimism that i might pass them...and caused me to feel so weak as to fail The Political Institutions exam, which caused to me being expelled form law school, which pretty much cancels out all my two years worth of...living (since i wouldn't get out of the house in order to at least pass, yet i had too hard of a time to keep up with everything). Yes, one could basiaclly draw the conclusion that in a way, RedBull ruined a part of my life (and since this is the last part that has been building up since about 2007, when another part of my life just got ruined...it means my life was ruined twice so far...and you know what they say: third time's the charm). But just like in the case of the lovely Roxana, if i like something or someone, even if they emasculate me, destroy everything i'm worth, cause rifts between my family and i, build up a tension in me so high that it pokes god in the ass, make me tread all over my principles a.s.o.a.s.f. ...i stick with them/it until THEY decide to break it off. If i make a commitment...i try to foresee how the whole thing will go down BEFORE it even starts - that's how i decide if i can go for it or not. not IF...cause i'll do everything in my power to be able to. and it destroys me when it's beyond my powers. And basically everything is. and each of those things destroys me. every thing out of everything. And just because what...cause RedBull tastes nice too? i guess i'm a sucker for exteriors. Superficial love...only for a buck.

I like coffee too but not as much as i would want to. Henry Rollins is a coffee fanatic and he has been sleeping for 2-5 hours per night for almost 30 years. i wish i liked it that much. i wish it liked ME that much...as to actually have a stronger effect than RedBull on me, rather than constantly getting into arguments with my stomach. I just wanna stay up longer...and have more time to think about what i could be doing during the time that i think about what i could be doing.

back to packing. i don't feel less tired after typing this, but no more either. i'm thinking: the title is "this did NOT end the way i pictured it". it never does...but i never learn. it's always new, yet i have the deja-vu feeling. disappointment + the deja-vu of it = double disappointment, if my math serves me correctly. So what am i leaving behind physically, yet in theory am now burdened with for the rest of my path? hmm. a "condemned" and "unique" mother, god bless her. a condemned and unique grandmother (in a different way than the mother), god bless her. two great innocent lives that i could spend a whole day with, and i won;t be allowed to anymore. Impotent attempts at relationships and impotent attempts at sex. (so...literally and figuratively. the whole ambivalence). An obsession (R) and a betrayal (L) both gone array and exaggerated as days passed. a failed college. Pity and disappointment felt by those around me, for me. a mediocre ability to play any instrument, yet the whole reason i couldn't concentrate on anything else was to excel in any one of them. a house that makes me feel incapable of doing anything just when i look at it (considering all the details inside of it), that still is the only place i can call home...but does not feel like it. the most ardent arguments; the most dangerous ground to tread upon when analyzing the psychology of it all. materialism. the thought that i was actually starting to really get involved into the music scene, yet after leaving i'll have to start from scratch in a much fiercer environment. that leads me to a total of catastrophes in: personal life, love life, sex life, family life, profession, hobbies/passions...i think that just about covers all aspects of one's existence and the whole point of it.

now after reading all that...anyone could safely say that i'm fortunate enough to have had all these things to leave behind, most people aren't as wealthy in problems and aren't fully shaped yet. i'm not either...but i can tell you that my contour is pretty odd-looking.

Ever wanna die? Of course you have

...but i won't until i'll meet the maker, the legend, the icon, the definition of punk himself, sir Jello Biafra. And on the 4th of July 2010...i did. I thought i'm gonna shake all over but because of this annoying hungarian journalist who was in the same room i was brought in, i managed to maintain a balance in my emotions. Rosie, the merch lady, also Kimo Ball's (JB & tGSoM guitarist) wife told me to wait for a bit in the "dining room" of the Arena backstage area, after asking me if i'd like something to drink / eat, to which i said 'no' but right after she turned the corner i started stuffing my backpack with drinks and chips and anything that i could take with me for my train ride back to Romania? Had i known i would be around food later that night...i wouldn't have bought any beverage and would've slipped into dehydration mode until that moment...timed 0200 hrs on what was already the 5th of july. as i was sprinkling the inside of my mouth with some cheddar cheese flakes that were on the table, gulping them down with Gatorade i think it was...Rosie arrived again and gave me the "ok, come here" sign.

i slowly approached...and directly across from me was Jello.

he saw my brown paper gift bag that i had prepared for him and had a grin on his face, like an impatient child eager to open his presents in the morning of december 25th. i introduced myself and reminded him he asked me for some records from romania. of course he remembered me and it was even like he was expecting me...although i had to wait a long time and be somewhat of a pain-in-the-butt to Rosie and the other members. I didn't think i was. i never do...i mean if i'm being a bit pushy at times, it's because i know i deserve some sort of reward, it's because i gave something and i would like that favor returned to me. it's in my nature...it's human nature but sometimes i don't even hide it, it's there for everyone. i'm sorry but i looove me some justice! Just after i said a few words, he said "your english is REALLY good!". So anyway there were three other people next to Jello: a guy with a camera, a woman and that hungarian guy with the Rollins Band shirt which i would later find out that he was gonna be the only factor that stopped that night from being 100% awesome. he was still conducting his interview with Jello. The english was ok considering how hungarians don;t wanna speak any other language than their own even if they KNOW another one...at least this was my experience when hanging out with Trey Azagthoth (of Morbid Angel) at the Sziget Festival in 2006, people understood what he was saying, talking english behind his back but never directly to him/us. Jello ok-ed me turning on my recorder so i can conduct an interview of my own (very nice of him). But when my question "what would be the top 5 things you'd do as president?" popped up, Jello interrupted "he already asked me that". The hungarian guy, Tamas, immediately turned pale and started apologizing to me, because he stole my question. before i knew he was a journalist and i complimented him on his Rollins Band shirt, he asked me what i would ask Jello if i had the chance to do so. Not knowing he was a journy, i told him that question. sneaky hungarian bastard, typical hungarian of him: take something that belongs to a romanian, then claim it's hungary in front of the eyes of the one who matters, so that the positive attention is attracted upon Hungary. and of course, as history has it, when i'll print the same question (MY question) in sunete (if he sends it to me...that bastard better...), a hungarian person would come up and say "you know this question actually belonged to a hungarian journalist and you stole it"! a punch in the face will soon follow, regardless if it's a man, woman, baby, old person, infant deer...What happened there perfectly portrays the situation between hungary and Romania. Plus, he kept TALKING and TALKING and TALKING about how cool it would be if Jello would play in Hungary. REALLY??? YOU THINK?? YOU THINK JELLO WOULDN'T KNOW THAT'S WHAT YOU FEEL LIKE, CONSIDERING YOU CAME FORM HUNGARY TO AUSTRIA JUST TO SEE HIM PLAY??? Goth Daim!!! Jello was so patient with him too, but i had this pissed off look on my face. a facial expression that implies "you have been rambling on for too long. you must die now and your sister must be raped for the time loss you have caused everyone present in the room!". i would try to explain jello what was in the package i had for him, and the guy kept saying stuff like "so yeah i will talk to promoters and maybe you'll play sometime" or "have you heard of *then he starts listing 15 hungarian bands + plus their spelling, to make sure Jello will look them up RIGHT after he gets home and opens his computer, as if he doesn;t have anything better to do...or just anything else..*".

As fate would have it, after the hungarian bunch finally left, Jello was looking really tired (as was i, from all that constant ranting from the hungarian journy) and he said that in about 5 minutes he would wanna return. he looked at the questions in my interview and said he's too beat to answer all of them (cause he spent his energy on the other guys' questions, which were probably stupid like his country. And if there were any good ones...who knows where else he stole them from? so i didn't get to ask everything i wanted but we pretty much befriended and decided we will keep in touch and vinyl trade from now on. Two things kind of bothered me, to be honest: 1) i had a picture of him i printed out and wanted him to sign and as soon as he saw it he said "ohhh this is a good picture of me..which i don't have...i'm TAKING it! thanks!" i tried to tell him that i can send it to him but he assured me that the printer form Alternative Tentacles is shitty so he'll just keep this one. great. and i wanted to frame it. now i have to see him again, hahah. the second thing was that...i was expecting a bit more as a reward for the package, especially since i was really close to not meet him at all. but no money in return, no free merch...oh well. a highlight of the night was when i was on my way out, and i hear a loud "MATEI!!!!!" from behind me. it was Jello who asked me for a romanian video about Ceausescu. but i'll never forget how Jello called my name SO loud and CLEAR that everyone turned their heads thinking he had found an albino snake in the room... he pronounced my name so perfectly and in his typical screamed voice...if i had recorded that, it would've been the soundtrack to my life. i know it seems like an irrelevant detail, but that was a real treat for me. i still can't call it even between me and him, but i'm sure it'll be a bit better next time. but because i'm nice...he passed my "tattoo test".

so i learned a few valuable lessons:
1) never get your hopes up especially with people you appreciate A LOT...cause the downfall is much longer and painful.
2) never tell anyone what you would do if you had a certain opportunity.
3) always print two copies of what you want signed.

Stop And Dedicate Some Time To The Sun

Stop and dedicate some time to the sun
Your brain needs to breathe, go and have some fun, maybe
Take your slippers off on a beach and run
Freedom is when there’s just you…and the sun

Stop and dedicate some time to the sun, you’re too
Tense to think, too tense to go on
Stress is as fatal as a loaded gun
Your brain is boiling, it’s hotter than the sun


Don’t you get scared if the sun is not there
With its rays widely spread
It’s up to you where, cause the sun’s everywhere
Remember: the sun’s in your head

It’s just a metaphor
Only a metaphor
It’s just a metaphor, the
Sun is out there

Stop and dedicate some time to the sun
I know it’s hard to do but it CAN be done, and
When the moon is thee only thing you see, just keep in
Mind the moon always gives way to the sun


Don’t you get scared if the sun is not there
There’ll come a day, cause if you’ll
Work all your life, afford a house on the beach, you’ll
Know that the sun’s here to stay

Stop and dedicate some time to the sun
Stop and dedicate some time to the sun
Stop and dedicate some time to the sun
Stop and dedicate some time to the sun

I knew it

Had i known i will get this reply today...i still would've posted the previous post. Ha ha. It still had an impact, regardless of the fact that after i sent him an apology for the misspelling, he replied:

"Matei, it happens. No sweat. It's a real loss. Henry"

I feel ok again. It's fascinating how someone you care about can take everything away from you so quickly, leaving you feeling empty and in a shitholic state of mind...and then redeeming everything they took away in the first place just as quick. Restitutio In Integrum, if you will. It sounds creepy that i talk about him so obsessively, but he's just the scapegoat for what i'm trying to get across...to myself. And yet another example of foreign humor: This whole episode came form 10 words. 10 words that, if seen by a third party...ANY third party...they don;t really mean anything, just that i wrote something, and he let me know i spelled it wrong. End of discussion. See how important personal value is? It changes the perspective of a situation entirely. And see, I'm not a hypocrite, i DID say yesterday that i still respect this man and it changes nothing in my appreciation for him, Henry is still at the top for me. I wasn't expecting a reply. It's not like a break-up (although i did dare to make that comparison)...but in some ways it's worse. I had one of those feelings like in a relationship, when things are being said that can only DRIVE everything to fall apart. It's that little trigger that makes the whole gun fatal. It's when the bullets only cause bodily pain but don;t cause Death. But i can handle it from anyone...I've been shot many times. I say i can't...yet i go on. Something's done right. Well...WRONG form my actual perspective. But nevertheless, I'm here.