Archive for the ‘childhood memories’ Category

crazy summers

This is one of long ago when i was spending my summers in the countryside with my sister and of course doing lots of things which exasperated my grandma. We did not mean it but these things just came as we were playing different games or just hanging around. It is so difficult as a child not to destroy something, at one time it comes as a consequence of your games and curiosity. Me and my sister liked to spend our free time upstairs especially when it was hot outside and play cards or discussing. Or just teasing each other. One time my sister was playing with something and as i got bored and wanted some action, i just took her toy and run away into the living room. Of course, i tried to stop sister from entering by locking the door temporarily, meaning drawing it after me and keeping it shut. See…the types of door in my grandparents’ villa are not made totally from wood but they also have windows. That was really bad for my sister who came running very fast and tried to push the door open. But instead of placing her hand on the wooden side, she placed her hand accidentally on the window. Needless to say the window went to pieces and my sister got a bad wound on her palm. At that moment we both stood still in shock. The blood was running very bad from her wound but instead my sister looked at me in horror and at the smashed window pieces and said: “Shit! Grandma will kill us!” After the first shock was over i grabbed something to stop her bleeding and started to clean the mess on the floor carefull not to cut myself. We hid the glass pieces and cleaned my sister’s wound while we thought of a good excuse for the broken window. As the glass was not very well fixed we could easily blame it on the wind and so we did. We just not did tell anything to grandma in the hope that she won’t notice. Actually she did not notice until very late when the summer and our holiday was almost over. She did not say anything to us but she knew somehow that we were behind the whole business. I mean come on…how can a window shutter all of a sudden, the glass pieces disappearing without any explanation? Silence was definitely an answer. 😀


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i just knew Santa did not exist, nor did the Easter bunny or whatever nice present bringing spirit. i did not question myself why because i was not interested. i was born in a communist country and i grew up in the shadow of communism. i was fed with its memories. when i was small i did’t remember getting presents and the ones i did were mostly made my my parents, of course i did recognize their style and i was not fooled by some unrealistic creatures. and besides, my concept of Santa did never exist. i grew up with a man dressed in blue and called Moș Gerilă. but it was just a fantasy. i knew it. i never saw the Easter bunny. i heard of it maybe in my teenage years when i was already too mature to believe in a rabbit with a basket full of eggs jumping around.

but still there was something which terrified the shit out of me: Bau Bau. yes, the Bau Bau was a creature of darkness, of the other world with which my parents used to scare me when i was too nasty “because you are too loud, you upset your grandma and you don’t want to eat!”. and damn it, i was all the time! how did Bau Bau look like? well, there is no rule, just my imagination went wild. it was like a dark shadow creeping in, under doors, from keyholes, in the small crack in the wall, it creeps under bed grabbing my feet and dragging me to hell 😀 when i think of it now it looks a bit like Mörkö from Moomins. weird enough, Mörkö is one of my favourite characters. but Bau Bau sure is not; Mörkö has something innofensive, Bau Bau is evil, you don’t discuss with it – you are just taken because you are just a fucking nasty kid. worthless to tell you that sometimes my heart pounded at every shadow i saw moving on the walls at night. i closed my eyes and i saw the terrible thing coming to grab me. i was dragging the blanket over my head; turning into a ball and just sharpening my ear at every noise.

so many years past by but i still live with that impression of the nasty creature. i just don’t materialize it but i am certain of that feeling of insecurity and evilness coming from another dimension. or maybe i was just too damn traumatized. …and at night i still wake up and have the impression that something unearthly is in my near vicinity. under the bed.

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On The 69 Eyes … that’s what i was listening right now to dampen the sound of rain which keeps falling and makes my eye-lids heavy, ready to dive into another portion of sleep but i really have to keep the dreams away. They are more like nightmares. I still wake up sometimes clenching to the pillow and my heart pounding so bad ready to jump out of my chest. They are not nightmares with monsters and ghosts, i wouldn’t call those nightmares. My nightmares are abstract and with real people. So, i have been told too many times to stop watching horror movies and read Edgar Allan Poe. That’s what i was doing since i was a kid. Every evening before sleep i would read a story, hard to say which is my favorite, i like most of his tales of mystery and imagination … if i were to choose maybe The Pit and the Pendulum. Gives you cold shivers and a suffocating feeling of deadly claustrophobia. As about the movies i really enjoy the ones where supernatural is at its best … no serial killers and phychopats a la Saw or Hostel or whatever. No. Just pure supernatural. It’s not that i believe in it but something draws me so bad towards and half of me tends to think there is a grain of truth in it. If there weren’t how else the stories came so long way and have so much history behind? Or people’s imagination is really wild. At one point i do not care what is true and what is not, i just like to enjoy the mystery and to relax myself in a world which is completely unknown and innacessible to me. It’s one of those heavy, grey, rainy days which i adore. They make me so tired i can barely walk and distinguish reality from a dream. It feel more like catatonic experience somehow when time has stopped and everything looks the same. Even my gestures seem so repetitive i have a continuous sensation of déjà vu. It’s one of those times when your mind switches to another dimension and your body stops living with it being just a flow of life which keep you alive but deadly unconscious at the same time. Isn’t atemporality great? Foreverness and ephemerity at the same time. You just have to know how to get back to your miserable reality where you have to choose. How i hate choices, i would take both ways at the same time and i would release the pain of loving too much and too many. Why do we have to choose even when it comes to our hearts? Isn’t love universal and for everybody? It is so limited while hate is universally accepted. You can hate as many as you like but you can’t love because in a way or another love is immoral, is dirty, is sin. If love has come to be considered a sin than what is hate? A virtue? I don’t care about the types of love because in my opinion there aren’t. Love is just a single, unique feeling. Of any kind. I might be twisted and live more feeding upon darkness and mystery but it all has a sense somehow. Dancing into the night under the moon just helps me hide the feelings i have and cannot share them because of fear, rejection, hate, mockery. I keep them between a shadow of moonlight and a patch of darkness. I feel safe that way.

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This is one of the myth busters type. Not that I didn’t do too many in my life being a very curious child. But altogether I had to do everything with my sister of course. That’s why we called it teamwork. Summer holidays spent in the countryside with my grandparents were the best. When all the team was gathering up for almost 3 months, 2 girls and 2 boys always up to something. But we were far worse than my cousins. Fact.  I should start a series with brilliant things me and my sister did while in the summer holidays but I really need a brainstorming to remember all. I don’t think I can manage to.  But this one I remember very clearly as it was a bit more special, not the thing itself but my grandma’s anger in particular.

Well…one day I and my sister decided to see if chickens can swim. Of course, we did not believe those silly books and we decided to test ourselves. We caught a chicken, it should have been around 5 months old and we took it to the barrel filled with water for irrigation near the fountain. Since my sister was too short to reach the barrel properly I took the chicken courageously and I dipped it into water. Of course that the poor creature started to fight for his life to get out. We just sat and had strong faith that at one point, miraculously the chicken will start swimming like a duck. That did not happen and instead the chicken gave up the fight and dropped to the bottom like a stone. Ops! I dragged the chicken out by the feet and started to shake it well to wake it up. I dipped it few times in the water just to be sure. Useless. At this point I noticed grandma coming with a suspicious look on her face. When she saw the great deed she just took the chicken and said very fiercely: “I’ll deal with you later.” She just went away mumbling curses and how bad kids we are and that she had never seen such thing in her life. She just put the unconscious chicken near the fire, well I thought it was dead but warmed by the fire the chicken got up and survived. Grandma just started scolding us for our thoughtless deed with all kind of very nice and polite adjectives like devil kids and scumbags and told us once and for good that chickens can’t swim. It was not necessary…we figured that out for ourselves.

Grandma’s anger was not of the throwing stones and chasing us with a stick but her words were really nasty. I’d rather take the chasing part. It was much more fun to see granny running hopeless because we just knew she couldn’t catch us. The stick part was a bit difficult because she had the habit of throwing it after us and damn she is good at meeting the target!

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