ecstasy in the E.U.

last night i was telling rj and james about my first ecstasy ever- and i realized that it was when romania entered in E.U.- 2 years ago, New Years Eve, a bunch of friends, just getting out of the house, all the people on the streets happy, marching towards Piata Universitatii, the sky full of fireworks; sorin put some huge headphones on my head, and played Oxia- Domino, and I remember the exact image of us opening the fence door from lala's courtyard and going out on the street, I was like all the time holding hands tight with sorin and andrei, and then bogdan went in front of the group, and he started singing "allons enfants de la patrieeeeee/le jour de gloire est arriveeeee", and we were all following and singing, and I also remember very clear that there were like tons of people flooding the streets, all going to piata universitatii, happy, and fireworks covering all the sky. i never realized what a great memory that is. and I never made the connection btw the first x and Romania entering E.U. haha.

;

faceshield

the dead dancing squirrels

bit and bits. looking at all the shops and feeling like shit. like how can you put so much money in it just to SELL things? thinking about why do I feel lonely. and then thinking about humanity again, as in being human, as in the warmth of being human, of humans being human one with another. thinking about the "succeedin' in life" archetype that has been implanted in our brains like before you could even make a decision. the stairs of success, and all that talk about doing something in your life, and investing in your future, and developing the best out of you. doing your best to succeed in life. and about how people interact- like the instinct to conquer the others, to be seen, or at least to fit. to prove that you are as well good and maybe even better than the others. the need to conquer. the need to possess. as in atention, objects, people. the competition. the rewards. the power games. the money. the name. the work. the pride. "i'm proud to be who I am". the little moment of hesitation when u meet somebody so different that you consider him dangerous by default and you'd rather not speak to him. thinking about what you see everyday on the streets, and the ingorance training you developed with yourself in order to survive. because we see tons of shit everyday, and we just have to pass by.

i mean, i see stuffed squirrels in a shop window, dancing around a tiny crocodile with its mouth full open:

or a mannequin with a stuffed fox in a leash,

or fairytale dummies in fairytales settings, surrounded by bottles of wine and candies- because the fairytale sells.

and on and on, all kinds of things that you just train yourself not to see anymore. not to mention the homeless people. well there's a big no no. there is the maximum of our alienation. like your're on the streets, havin fun, walking to the club, and suddenly you see these guys lying on their cardboards, in their sleep sacks, looking at you- or just smoking a cigarette, or just sleeping, or reading a newspaper. and you have to move on, and have fun. i mean, what can you do, right? it makes you sad, but what can you do? so you just train yourself to ignore one more time. it's just what you have to work with. remember that scene in hedwig and the angry inch, when hedwig's lover finds the annoying inch of flesh between hedwig's legs? that inch of flesh left from the sex-change operation hedwig was more of less forced to do? the boyfriend says, in horror: "what's this?"- and hedwig says: "well, this is what i have to work with."

sometimes all those people are like that inch of flesh- but nobody wants to work with that.

anyway, as I said, I was thinking about all these things and then found 2 books. one of them is called "Design anarchy", by kalle lasn. the other is called "pedagogy of the oppressed", by paulo freire. i will talk more about the latter, because i seriously think that EVERYBODY should read that book. it was forbidden at some point, and people used to go to jail in brasil for reading that. because it is about humanity- about what's human in humans. and we don't want to go there, right? and about dialogue, as in true dialogue between equal human beings who respect eachother and do not want to possess eachother. and we definitely don't want to go THERE, right? and about communion as opposed to everyday's alienation. and about transforming the world as a natural consequence of thinking. and we DEFINITELY refuse to go there. right?

soo many informations. soo many tastes. spend my day kissing these guys:
and found out that, if i had known the basic things that a first aid training teaches you, maybe my grandmother wouldn't have died suffocated in my arms. poor poor romanian girls's bad luck, isn't that ironic? sometimes you just don't HAVE THE INFORMATION. i was so fucking angry- no even angry, but astonished, while somebody was explaining us what you should do in case that the person is not breathing anymore... and I JUST DIDN'T HAVE THAT INFORMATION. what to do in case that person's not breathing anymore. is that so hard to make a fuckin first aid training in schools, or something like that? make the information go around? ok. so i kissed those guys and made their chests go up and down, their plastic chests.

then walked, through the london scraps. found out about congo. found out about sorrow. found out about god. found out about the public toilets. found out about saudade. found out about the transparent offices and houses. about walls of concrete. about hundreds of people passing by and looking down. about the boats on thames. about laughter. about ioana. about people. about chris james. about lager. about a concert. about about orlando harrison. seems like an ordinary day, another one.

the jesus, the shit and the romanians

... and another one from the urban dictionary... look at the tags for romania. that's kind of funny:

romania romanian europe hungary gypsy transylvania moldova russia albania bulgaria germany dracula moldavia spain greece eastern europe revolution tatarasi ukraine hungarian poland anti-gypsy device east germany manele warsaw pact company turkey rom kickass ussr italy prince eu xisco roman jesus shit czechoslovakia england sex romanians poverty name wallachia gypo tepes romance romo vlad bucuresti communism

we have jesus and shit going together in our tag cloud...

mm, that girl just gave me a romanian kiss

1.	hmm, wow. look what i just copypasted from the urban dictionary : Romanian Kiss	22 up, 10 down
	When someone bites someone else's neck, from the fact that the "original" Dracula was from Romania (NOT Transylvania). Guy #1: "man, that girl just gave me a romanian kiss!" Guy #2: "Ouch!" french kiss vampire dracula romania bite by Blargman Mar 28, 2007 share this add comment

apple juice

when u come up from dean house, and see the row of houses, the light is always in a way strange and psychedelic. a sort of artificial glow from up above on the open road and to the horizont. today- all the light in london was psy. and no substances, cross my heart, just one apple in the morning (as in one real A-P-P-L-E- that is for some friends who think that when i say that i saw a swan on the sea it should mean something a whole lot different that a swan on the sea, and whom - the friends i mean- i miss very much). at 4:30 today the whole sky was violet. the national theatre is violet and blue. red lights float on thames near the greenwhich pier, near an almost fluorescent green strange tower who looks like a mosque.

when i come up from dean house, i see a candyland picture:



















it always looks like fairytales, like in the books when the houses were made of cardboard and sweets.

not to mention the recycle bins:



















there's a surreal feeling everywhere.

Please Arrest me for my own good and the continued security of the nation

"Hundreds of people everyday pack onto the underground, quite possibly oblivious to the realities of the law, quite possibly flagrantly contravening it, with what they are reading, wearing, listening to, or thinking. CSG were there to make sure the tube passengers don’t break any rules.

[...]


Our agents handed out information about their rights and details of how citizens could be displaying political opinions about their person, with deliberately dangerous allegiences or through an accident of ‘fashion’.

[...]


Our mission was timely, as we discovered many people who had never even heard of this wonderful government directive. Oddly, some seemed to be shocked at this, and rather worryingly started to question whether what they are reading, listening to or thinking, should be any concern of the government. We were pleased, however, to see just how many people submitted to our checks with the utmost supportiveness. Truly, the majority of the sensible British people are now so scared of the threats all around us, they know to be obedient, and to abide the law, however intrusive and apparently over the top it might be."

(excerpts from spacehijackers site )

hahaha.
these guys are great.

ah those shoes

(the shoes scene from trash)

con doom

protection. security measure. prevention. safety. security. CCTV. data protection. data surveillance. decent taste. good manners. proper. safe distance. avoid. prevent. keep safe.

"the same pleasure and a great smile, with no risks at all": british people are condom-people. not as in people who use condoms, but as in people who act like condoms. with the meaning mentioned above. same pleasure, no risks. no openness, but great careful attention and total exquisite manners. no humanity, but humanity with a security belt- first protect yourself from pottential harm, and then think about the others. anything might be or cause a potential harm. so you have to protect yourself from anything, and keep on smiling. nothing can stop you being completely happy and attentive as long as you have a really good and longlasting protection.

protect me from what i want- isn't that a london-based band? placebo, right:-)?

or is it a bit too much paranoia?

and no wonder sex pistols were born here in condom-land. ha. what other land could bring so much anger and rejection up?

trash, andy warhol, around 22 or 21 or whatever, after cutting my finger with the knife trying to open a can with pickled bamboos inside or smth like that, before asking rj to bring some bandages but there weren't any, so i just got stuck with some kitchen towels. in the morning there was a fire alarm. it went off because somebody was cooking with the door open, so we just had to get out from our rooms and sit in front of the halls for like 7 minutes until somebody came to check if it's a fire and although we all knew there wasn't any fire, nobody could enter the building until the security guy came. then watching trash as I've told you, which is a really great movie. totally forgot about my finger while watching it. and it was very strange that it was the only possible activity if i wanted to forget about the blood dripping from my finger and the pain was watching this movie.
so anytime you feel physical or any kind of pain, you can watch this.
and remember... don't go for the needle, boys and girls. go for the trash. from flat 13 appC, transmission over. oh, and by the way, there was a japanese bbc soap filmed right here, at 13. actually it's not a soap, but it sounds like a tourist soft porn movie with the wrong images.
link2movie
you can see rj, stella and JoJo, my flatmates, in the kitchen at some point. i wonder what the girl's doing with the old guy in the first part... and i really liked the white angelic light that was bathing the images from london and from our kitchen. it seems a dream come true. so, once again, don't go for the needle, boys and girls... go for the dream.
13 entertaiment... presents-

amanda lepore

The child of a chemical engineer father (Italian-American) and a schizophrenic mother (German-American), Lepore was born as a male in Cedar Grove, New Jersey. At the age of 11, Lepore professed a desire to have a sex change operation after seeing a TV show on the subject. Unable to tolerate dressing as a boy, Lepore made the decision to go to school dressed as a girl, which concerned her guidance counselor; Amanda was not allowed to attend school as a female, so she received a tutor at home. At the age of 15, she began designing costumes for dancers at a local strip club. During this time, she received hormones from an underage transsexual friend who accepted outfits as payment. After her body developed breasts, her tutor recommended a psychiatrist. Lepore was diagnosed as a transsexual. The psychiatrist informed her parents and helped in getting the hormones legally.^[9]

^(source)

now she is around 60 years old:


and she's plastic. basically. she has had so many operations and in-your-face three times lips and breasts, that she is organic-self-aware-plastic.

more on amanda

&

the club kids

short quiz

whooo's da sexyest boy in da neighbourhood? bob dylan on the creme cafe wall.