Footrace from the pavement

November 13, 2010 at 3:07 pm (From reality)

So today, November 13, was the ‘Footrace November 15’ competition in Brasov, following the same route that the workers from Brasov took on November 15, 1987 with the occasion of the anti-communist revolt. Since I was a lazy student and didn’t take the trouble to enrol in any sporting activity, I decided to fill my sports attendance paper by participating in this event (the participation in this footrace assured me the exact number of attendances I needed for passing the Sports exam).

All in all, it was a pleasant experience, even though after the first 2 kilometres (out of the whole distance of 5 km) I gave up and alternated running with the simple walk. In the end I had to be satisfied with the 334th position (out of around 550 candidates), which in my humble opinion it’s decent result for an amateur, considering the fact that I was competing against professional athletes. The other surprise was the perfect organisation of this event: the whole traffic has been closed in the entire town during the race, although it took place on a short distance that would have needed the cancellation of only a few buses, there were enough t-shirts for everyone, the police and the ambulances were scattered along the entire route, making sure that everything was going fine, and last but not least the amateurs were treated with the same respect as the professionals.

There was only one thing that pissed me off during the footrace: the people standing like vegetables on the pavement and criticizing the people involved in the race, especially those on the middle and last positions. Some of them swore us; some others called us lazy because we are not as proficient as the professional athletes are (but you know, it’s easy to laugh at the other when you’re nothing but a piece of shit who never took the courage to accept a challenge. Those losers by default are better than you are for the simple reason that, although they never won anything and they never will, they never failed either, which means that they have never felt the sensation of being defeated, which in its turn means that they can pull the leg of those who have felt it).

However, we mustn’t forget that we (unfortunately) still dwell in Romania, a country where ‘one would rather seek for holes in the other’s statue than look at himself to see how little he is, compared to that statue’, to paraphrase Mr. Plesu.


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The Doll

November 11, 2010 at 4:10 pm (From beyond reality)

When I was a little girl, a doll pleaded with me to buy her. It was the greatest doll I’d ever seen and consequently I fell in love with her from the very first moment I held her in my arms. I never felt the necessity to change her in any way, like to create new clothes for her, modify the clothes that she already had or to make her a new haircut. Nothing to be added, nothing to be removed. She was simply perfect.

I spent my childhood playing only with that doll, and even though I used to have a few playmates back then, I was always coming back to the doll to confide all of my secrets, my passions and my doubts to her. This friendship was a bit reinforced by my introvert behaviour, I have to admit it.

One day, by accident or by design, the doll went up in flames and turned into ashes. Those ashes… they eventually spread somewhere or took other form, but seeing them on the floor was the most depressing thing a child could see. And it was not the fact that I had lost my doll that made me suffer, but those ashes who were trying to suggest me that the relationship between me and her was not only gone for vacation, but completely destroyed.

Days went by, with my pain growing less and less obvious, until everybody forgot about the whole story. Except me. The feeling of missing her was still rambling through my mind. Then people thought that it was not normal for a person not to have a doll. So they bought me one. When I first saw the new doll, I thought that it was very lovely, but when I figured out that the doll was supposed to be mine, I rejected it immediately. It’s not that the poor doll isn’t big enough to fill that void in my spirit; it just doesn’t have the jagged shape that would fit in there.

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