Day 7 and 8

Brace yourselves, dear readers, because the writer has returned with the soapy part of its(because the writer is an entity) international experience. Even though I am really not in the ‘butterflies and rainbows’ mood (but rather aloof, ‘might say) I’ll try to keep the tone of this post as accurate as possible. Here it goes.

Maria and her luggage

The aftermath of travelling abroad went straight to my bones. Once I made contact with a different culture from the one I grew up in, the whole international experience was perceived like escaping the cage in which I’ve been held captive for the last two decades. And, it seems that even if the surface of that cage is 92 thousand square miles, I really felt a bit claustrophobic in there. For some time, I felt like being the traveler type of person and this brief trip abroad confirmed my assumptions. I love being on the road, discovering places, talking to strangers and why not,

Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6

Do you remember those times, when you were little and you kept improvising tents in your bedroom? Using blankets and umbrellas and what not? Well, years have passed, I grew up, bought myself a real tent and went abroad with it (after sleeping one night in it, in my own bedroom, for the sake of the good old days). So yeah, I set up my tent in my own bedroom before embarking on this wonderful journey. Because it really was a wonderful journey, despite the downside of mixing work with travel.

Sziget Fesztival 2013 and its Island of Freedom was an experience which I’ll forever remember as a milestone, professionally and personally wise. Six days, on my own, in an international environment. My very first international experience. Ha ha, great place to start such a thing.

I’m not quite the bullet type of writer, but I’d rather keep most of these memories to myself because they are truly special and since I’m a very

Goodnes gracious great balls of fire – day one

Not quite sure if I should keep my opinions to myself or not. It is my first trip out of the country and it doesn’t feel as hype as it should be. I’ve been looking forward to this moment since I don’t really remember when. Oh well.

I am writing this post in English because a few hours ago I figured out that it really needs some practice. Since this is a train heading to Budapest, you can connect the dots and assume that it is full of foreigners. Well, that is very true. I’ve had the opportunity to engage in a 3rd degree encounter, haha, and came to realize that I am no longer capable of having a decent and coherent conversation in any other language than my own. Mostly because my social awkwardness has taken over thy psyche and I struggle to act normal. Nevertheless, I’ve found out that the girl who’s standing next to me is a fellow photographer with a bunch more experience than me. A big bunch more. It reminded me that even if I’ve come a long way, I still have a long way to go.

As „we speak” I’m witnessing a beautiful sunset somewhere in the middle of Romania. I’ve put my camera back in the backpack just because I don’t want to share these pictures. This first trip of mine is solely mine (visually). At least at certain key moments. You’ll see the festival photos on the web, anyway.

I’ve decided that it would be a good idea to document this sort of initiation journey. I find it funny because it brings back memories from the time I was studying fairytales in high school, when the main character was supposed to pass through an entire initiation adventure before he truly became a hero and saved the girl. Mwell, I am no hero, yet and surely don’t have any girl to save.. okay, maybe there is somebody waiting for my return, back home, but I have no dragons, monsters and co. to fight.

And since I started to be very random again, I shall end this post right now. Whatever the outcome of this assignment/trip/holiday will be, I promise myself that I’ll do better next time.

You’ve come a long way

A ajuns băut acasă, aruncându-și hainele pe singurul scaun din cameră, chiar dacă își petrecuse toată ziua făcând curat în apartament. S-a îndreptat hotărât spre baie, oprindu-se în fața oglinzii. Chiuveta șubredă se lovi de perete sub greutatea lui, în timp ce își făcea curaj să confrunte propria sa privire.

„Ai bătut cale lungă”, își zise într-un final. Dar nu era destul. Oricât de lung și greu ar fi fost procesul prin care ajunsese în punctul respectiv, satisfacția întârzia să apară. Ar fi vrut să își mulțumească pentru că a rezistat până atunci, însă oricât de mult și-ar fi dorit lucrul ăsta, nu îndrăznea să-l spună.

„Just keep walking.” au fost ultimele cuvinte care-i ieșiseră pe gură în noaptea aceea târzie. Ăsta era singurul mod prin care

Compete with that!

Într-o vreme în care pe măsură ce înaintezi în vârstă întâlnești toate tipurile de oameni și ai toate tipurile de relații posibile mă găsesc complet confuz și lipsit de vreo speranță că voi întâlni pe acel cineva. Să explic și de ce.

De mult nu mai funcționează treaba aia cu primu’ venit, primu’ căsătorit. Posibilitățile sunt infinite și ne bazăm pe faptul că avem tot timpul din lume să întâlnim persoana potrivită. Începem să ne-o tragem de undeva de la 16 ani și până ne sună ceasul biologic sărim dintr-o păsărică-ntralta, trăind toate dramele posiblile și imposibile. Iar dacă ești un fel de