Writer In Florence Ela Vasilescu
Category

Stories from the crypt of life

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Day 237 – Dead silence

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Shhh… all the noise from the outside world disappeared today. I am alone… at last. I tried to fight it at first, went to the window, opened it and focused: nothing. Nothing can bring back the noise for a while. Maybe all that is left is silence, a dead, cold silence. I hear anything that’s dead must be cold; there’s no other option. I think death is warm. I think she comes...

Day 165 – Searching for…

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Did I tell you that sometimes I feel like crawling into a hole and not come out of there for a long time? Did I tell you that when I feel like doing that, writing these daily thoughts are the hardest thing I have to do? I am so tired! I am tired of feeling needy, tired of asking and not receiving, tired of feeling like I don’t belong or that I am not doing enough. Sometimes, I think that...

Day 157 – Something different

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When I was a teenager, I used to write little stories on my secret notebooks just to try and unleash some of the evil hormones tormenting me. Sometimes, they were very short stories, other times ransom thoughts, or small poems (indeed I used to write what I now hate the most haha), but no matter what I wrote, it always came back to the same feeling, unleashing myself and setting me free. I never...

Day 79 – Soap opera news, prisoners who have priority and the funeral of my computer

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My phone is buzzing on the table. I look at the screen and I pick it up with enthusiasm. “Hi dad! What’s up? Haven’t heard from you in a while.”  I hear an almost imperceptible sigh on the other end and then: “Umm, I’m fine. I had some horrible couple of months and news flash…ummm…you know…I have to tell you something…” What came...

Day 77 – After marriage comes divorce… or was it happiness?

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Today I had a conversation with a good friend about all the people that get divorced and naturally the topic developed to couples who argue and fight. I already spoke my thoughts about relationships here, but marriage is a whole different topic. I am the kind of person who doesn’t believe in marriage (I know, I am married) and I think marriage is a mistake created by society that should not be...

Day 75 – Another trip to the emergency room

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I got to see some of the friends I made three weeks ago, today (if I can call them friends).  When I got to the emergency room, I noticed that everything looks very different when you are not in pain and you just have to sit there and wait quietly for your turn. You get to see the faces clearly, the place is much scarier and the cases that come in and out… well, they are not so pleasant to the...

Day 34 – Adolescence as a disease

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My building has at least two adolescent girls on each floor. Seriously, it’s like someone dropped a bomb here and only girls came out of it; boys would feel very uncomfortable in this building. Anyway, there is this particular girl downstairs that makes me shiver when I see her and the gang she is hanging out with. She is extremely pretty and of course, as any beautiful teenage girl at seventeen...

Society is the devil itself

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You are born pure, untouched by humanity’s deceits. You have almost a day of freedom when you enter the world and after that, society takes over. They start to shove paperwork into your parents’ face who get distracted and sign you off into a pitiful existence. And then the hell begins; vaccines of who knows what, against who knows which virus invented by the mankind, trauma of any sort...

Why do you do what you do?

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Why do you do what you do? That is the question. Why do you have the urge to get up and do the thing that you are best at or at least try to be? Is there a person, who knows a generally applied answer, for this particular question? These last passing months I met a lot of new people, each of them with a beautiful and inspiring story because of their uniqueness. I asked all of them this particular...

My mentor died…

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I think we all have a mentor whom we follow from the shadows and try to steal a little part of his genius to outline our actions. My mentor died today and one of my dreams just died with him. Ever since I’ve read my first book written by G.G. Marquez, I wanted to see him in person; that didn’t necessarily mean to meet him and talk to him or ask him endless questions about writing. I...

Writer In Florence Ela Vasilescu