lost loves, lost lives (aux trilangues)

“whatever …

who cares?”

*

our counties, two

Eden on Earth

everyone dreams to be here

to retire, to spend holidays, to hike, etc.

the sweet vacationing place

amazing landscapes, superb waters, etc.

the tourist information centres are going to tell it to you from A to Z

*

4 teenagers

some high school students of a small Canadian town of 20 something thousand people

in just 364 days

from March ’til March

lost loves, lost lives

*

maine se implineste un an de cand

o domnisoara inalta dintr-a douasprezecea, o fatuca cu par decolorat in nuante blonde, si-a pierdut viata …

viata pierduta

nu-i clar pana la capat cum, de ce

dimineata, masina ei  – la marginea drumului, iar

ea – gasita inghetata in apele coborate dintr-o cascada din apropiere

avea sangele contaminat cu un drog; nu stiu care

posibil sa fi ales sa ajunga acolo, altfel n-ar fi condus pana la marginea padurii noaptea, pe intunericul rece

legenda spune ca nu se simtea iubita

in scoala, nu isi gasea locul … nu arata ca in reviste; ar fi vrut …

acasa – nu indeajuns bani pentru a trai ca in reviste ori macar decent

fiica mea o avea intr-una dintre clase

vorbea putin; cel mai des, pe sarite, fortata sa intre in dialog, cu ochii pe telefon ori la podele; descumpanita, fara chef

*

in less than one year, four teenagers from my daughter’s high school lost their lives

lost themselves

then

lost the eagerness to be

*

pourquoi les enfants de ce siècle n’ont pas l’énergie de continuer d’être?

la voie

la voix

la choix

comment se passe que l’absurde s’attache de leurs jeunes belles pensées?

seulement comme ça j’observe la santé d’être vif par choix comme condition de (sur)vivre

la beauté de la volonté d’être vivant est en grand danger de se perdre

pourquoi?

 

*

self sabotaging as a lifestyle?

*

azi, o alta copila

in aceeasi scoala

16 ani

noua in scoala

se pare ca s-a sinucis

nu si-a mai dat aer sa traiasca

un nume frumos, cristalin

16

o varsta pe care am considerat-o, de pe cand eram copilasa, fara egal

16 ani, un vulcan imbelsugat in energii ascendente

vulcan pregatit sa erupa vise in culori tari

vise pe cale sa se implineasca cu indrazneala si in forta

*

iarna cu seri reci si intuneric curand

intr-o dimineata, mi-a scris:

“Mom, A. is dead.”

Fusese in clasa cu ea intr-a opta.

“Car accident. Apparently, drunk and high …” mi-a spus mai tarziu

intr-o seara, la nici o luna, m-a strigat din camera ei:

“Mom, A. is dead. Overdose …”

in mai putin de o luna

these two boys from this community

A. was 17. Left school in June. Lost one of his parents to cancer when he was 13. “No use for school. I will get my own money. Working already. I have a car and freedom. Parties and FREEDOM.”

freedom

A. – just 16. Grade 11. The parents “lost hope in him” when he was 14. Really? I think they just got bored of parenthood. The grandparents tried their best, but lost track of its interests, lost patience. “Lost cause … Not even worth trying in some cases.” – the teachers all pampered themselves. He was trying hard, on his own, to find meaning and goals. HE WAS ALONE.

lack of love

some fights are too long for us, the “modern” ones

*

“they are tall enough

they can walk by themselves

let them be, man!’

*

nu stiu ce sa-i spun fiicei mele

are 17 ani

incearca sa priceapa moartea care se intampla sub ochii ei

oameni frumosi,”the superb kind”, imi zice

superba varsta; mie mi-a fost cea mai frumoasa; un orizont de 360 de grade; ametitor optimismul si nefragmentat itinerariul

“precum sfera – cel mai mult trup in cea mai stramta piele cu putinta” (N. Stanescu) – mi-o spuneam din zori

“why?” isi repeta

nopti in sir n-a dormit, nu doarme

visele rele ii mistuie linistea

face parte dintr-o organizatie care cauta solutii pentru recuperarea sperantelor in sufletele tinere

iar eu nu stiu ce sa-i spun

nu o ajuta sa ii repet, ca pentru atatea altele,

“eu am crescut altfel, draga mea”

 

 

 

 

p.s. :

 

Spaima de viata e doar un simptom. Este teama de nefericire, cred.

sefa mea imi spunea ca-i cel mai greu sa lucrezi cu oamenii tineri; se simt ca in lagar; se arata atenti, fericiti (“cheeeeese!”), eficienti, dar sunt biciuiti pe dinauntru: “urasc asta, dar pentru bani fac orice!”

Cica-s studii care s-au prins ca lucrurile stau asa.

Altcineva spunea ca de fapt ultimele generatii de parinti sunt gresite – “sa fim fericiti, sa fie fericiti!” Adica sa ne fie comod, dragut, cozy, convenient. “I want you to be happy, my dear! Okay? Happy! ”

The right to happiness (n.m.: and to wi-fi – mai nou).

Prea putin mai vorbim copiilor nostri (si noua insine) despre responsabilitate, compasiune, respect. Ne luam din toate ca din prajituri – cat vrem, cat ne place, cat putem inghiti.

“Let’s be happy beyond everything. Keep it straight to happiness.”

Daca am reinvata ca fericirea isi gaseste gustul in fructele pe care ni le rumeneste ASUMAREA responsabilitatii, a compasiunii si a respectului, am ramane in viata si-am fi si foarte fericiti.

 

Of, ce trist, Doamne …

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