Inozza

Chasing Cars

I am a really big fan of Nietzsche, because I can see a great deal of him in myself. Not of the brilliant philosopher, because I'm not that brilliant (nor that philosophical), but of the scared, rebelled man, who hated people because he loved them too much. If you get to know him (by reading for example "Ecce Homo", which screams his need of the others), you cannot but feel bound to him. So this guy once said "I don't know if I deserve everything that happens to me, but everything that happens to me, I definitely deserve".

So here I am now. Tired and deserving everything that happens to me, although I'm not sure if everything that happens to me I definitely deserve. I lost a nail tonight. It just fell off, like a leaf of a autumn tree. Or like a snowflake, if you prefer. And now I have this small piece of me, painted in golden nail polish in the palm of my hand. And I feel guilty. Because I'm so busy that I cannot hear when my body screams. So I have these pieces of me falling off, as if they would be heading towards a better place.

And I try to play all my roles correctly, I try to wear the mask of the journalist-to be with professionalism, and the mask of the student with conscientiousness, and the mask of the adult with gravity, and then...I just get lost.

I want to go to the gym, once in a while. Not because I were a sports fanatic, but because it was fun. I used to meet this girl there, with whom I used to joke about our coach, or about the stupid "dog positions" which we were supposed to do. I miss all that.

I want to take a walk once in a while on a busy, crowded and polluted Bucharest street, but not before 8 o'clock in the morning, and not after 9 o'clock in the evening. I miss walking in the sunshine.

I miss the old me, the one which was obsessed with dieting, buying bags and sunglasses and who always got lost in the subway. I don't like this new me, whose nails are falling off, whose eyes are red because she works during night-time, who types really fast at her computer and who eats the same food days in a row, because she doesn't have time to buy real food.

I really want to go to the theater. The last show I saw was "Henry the Vth" and it moved me to tears. I want to exit a theater room hypnotized again. And I really want to go back to the times the girls and I had nothing to worry about, but the exams. They are all working hard now, as tired and as trapped as I am. Somehow they seam pleased. But I'm not. I'm not happy. This is not what I want.

I'm too busy with trying to please people all the time, too busy with not hurting their feelings, too busy with breaking myself in a thousand pieces.

There's an empty place on my body, where a nail stood just this morning. Now it's gone. I cannot stick it back, but I can stop other parts of me falling off.

All in all, I'm sorry if this post was too long for you, or sorry if it was in English, and you resent that. It's not a matter of being fashionable, it's just that words come easier to me this way. I hope you still have time to chase cars around your heads. It keeps us going.