kimberry cake



i will make a cake, it’s imaginary

temporary, as my thoughts may be

my recipee, is visionary

chery, berry and a bit of raspberry

add some crushed crampberry

a little strawberry and mix them gently,

no sugar, it’s not necessary

trust me, it will be extraordinary

I’m and artist of the culinary


one taste turns your senses primary

second makes you drunk and your vision blurry

heaven, hell and purgatory

every state is transitory

but this high is not momentary

in your heart my love, you’ll carry

you’ll feel out of the ordinary

as my love is legendary

every day a romance story

will be written in your memory


Today you smile


Today you took a feather form your hair,

from your book an empty page,

and wrapped them together with care.

Today you gave me a stage,

so I can sing for you when I’m not there,

so I can show how much I care.

Today I’ll wite a ballad,

written with my blood,

to heal your heart malade.

Today you’ll listen to the words I sing,

wrapped together on a string,

around your fingers in a ring.

Today you’ll smile,

with tears your eyes will flood,

and from your sorrow mud,

you’ll sprout a white lotus bud.



Gratitude of the spoiled kids


For the past month or so I’ve been having some money troubles. I got here as a result of overspending on things I wanted, but did not actually need. It finally got to me and sooner rather than later I had too much month at the end of my salary. It’s nothing serious, nothing wich deserves too much thought or worry.

So here I was eating out with a good friend of mine, confessing and complaining about how broke I am. She’s one of my best friends and as all good friends do, she called me on my bullshit. She argued that if I buy $300 headphones, I should not complain. And there it was, my reality check moment.

Some of us have it so good that sometimes we forget how it is to live in the real world. More often than not we secretly decide to close our eyes, as empathy makes us feel guilty. And of course, we don’t want to feel guilty, we want to feel good and special. We blindly indulge in mindless materialistic desires which have an ever declining satisfaction span. Every time we buy something new we devalue the other things we previously bought, eventually rendering them as meaningless. Like any junkie we want more. There’s never enough. There’s always something better arround the corner. Wink-wink, buy me.

Basic commodities like clean water, food, shelter, comfort are taken for granted. We don’t even conceive that some day we might lack these. We all secretly know that in some places these are recurring struggles of every day life. But we’re special.

Coincidentally, I came across this website. It’s called Dollar Street and is a collection of pictures from different families of different incomes across the globe. Ranging from monthly incomes of $27 dollars to $15k you can see how life is for others. What surprised me the most was the fact that I thought I would be somewhere in the middle of the scale. It turns out, I am actually in the wealthy side of the scale and browsing through pictures, I realize that my home looks actually a lot better even that homes in my own range. I suddenly stopped feeling broke and begun feeling… like such a douche.

Life isn’t fair sometimes. Some of us start with so little that they have no clue even what a good life means in other parts of the world. Others are dealt better cards in life and because they have it so good, not being able to afford the new iPhone makes them sad.

But let’s be grateful for a moment. We balloted this reality into manifestation. Innocently showing our compassion to gain social gratification, while secretly indulging in our materialistic sins. Unnecessary high-end electronics every few months, low-cost luxury vacations in underdeveloped countries, some guy’s name on our clothes, dozen pair of snickers, pre-cut, pre-cooked, pre-packaged foods, cheaper products, cheaper labor, faster delivery, more screen time, less human interaction, ever connected to the online but increasingly disconnected to humanity. If it’s shiny and others like it, we don’t care what it takes to own it.

FUCK SOCIETY said the spoiled kid as he was closing off his article, written from his MacBook for which he didn’t pay.

The hypocrite


Yesterday I saw a guy riding his bike while sipping from a soda. At one point during his trajectory I see him emptying the liquid in the bottle, doing like a pendulum movement with his hand. His bike had a grocery basked attached in front so I figured “Oh such a nice guy, he’s emptying the bottle so he can save it in his basked for recycling or whatever”. While I was thinking that, he does another pendulum movement with his hand, this time with more intensity and smashes the bottle to the ground. At which point I thought “What a piece of shit… what a fucking piece of shit”. I literally thought that. What a piece of shit that guy must be, for smashing that bottle to the ground.

While judging this guy, a weird memory comes to surface. When I was in my teens, I used to visit my cousins from the countryside. One of our friend’s father owned a small egg incubation facility. People in the village who grew chickens could bring their eggs for incubation in a controlled environment. Here the rate of succesful hatching is higher than in natural conditions, especially during the cold season.

Although the rate of hatching is higher, that doesn’t mean all eggs hatch. As you can imagine a lot of eggs need to be thrown away. So, our friend tells us that he has to do this nasty thing his father made him do. He was supposed to take all the rotten eggs to the village landfill. All the eggs were loaded in a carriage, pulled by his father’s horse. We never saw so many eggs in one place in our life. The carriage was completely full. It was one of those childhood awe moments. And we were in charge of the whole opperation.

We jump into the carriage and we are on our way. We’re not rolling fast, we’re rolling steady, as we are carrying a full load of stinky eggs on a country road. At some point along the way, as I get bored I get the idea of egging houses. Of course my friends thought it was a pretty sweet idea too, so we egged all the houses in our path. We egged them with rotten stinky eggs. We trew so many eggs. Oh man, it was so disgusting. Now that I look back, I still think it’s a funny story… but not as funny as before.

Everyone got grounded like forever and had to do a million chores, except me. I got to go home the next day and my parents only found out after the initial tension was gone. I didn’t tell them. Although I was just a kid at that time and even if I don’t exhibit this type of behaviour anymore, because I know a bit better, what a hypocrite was I to judge that guy… What a hypocrite, what a fucking hypocrite.

But still, I think this comes to show that while some people change incredibly after a certain age, others only double or triple-down on what they already were. As long as they receive ample social reinforcement for the role they are playing in society, they will continue to spiral down. Sometimes a “smack on the head” is what it takes for people to wake up and “man up” and be responsible. Other times it comes naturally, enforced by one’s environment and social situation.

People need a call for adventure to grow up, they need responsibility in their lives. To be “in charge” of something. Even if it’s as small as ensuring their own decent living. Some don’t even manage that. Responsibility brings meaning to our lives. In contrast many people seem to avoid responsibility, they just want to “be in charge” because they feel entitled.

Anyway, it’s just a rant.

Something wicked comes your way


My demons, although quietly dwelling beneath the surface are an equal part of me. Same as light reveals the beautiful features of my face, shadows outline all that is rotten inside. Calm as they may be, they lurk patiently, biding their time, looking for a reason to wake…

I’ve unleashed it. The thing that’s going to remove you from myself. It’s on its way and it’s not going to stop until I’m clean again. It’s irreversible, I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to. It’s done. There’s no turning back now. No one can undo it. Prepare.

From the darkest corner of my soul, I have summoned your doom. It’s an embodiment of all that’s wicked and twisted within me. All my demons, all my bad thoughts and primal impulses are bottled up in this potent essence of evil. The beast within is thirsty for you.

My maze, the place which was once your playground is now going to become an altar of sacrifice. The walls wich you gently brushed with the tip of your fingers while your were roaming arround are going to narrow down on you. It’s getting colder and darker in here.

Soon all you held dear inside of me is going to get corrupted and turn away from you. Soon it will all become a tenebrous scene of a nightmare we’ve dreamt together. Soon it will find you.

Will your love roar louder than my demons?

Will you tame the beast I have become?

Will you survive?


Game theory of life


I wonder, I wonder… What if life is just a game? What if I am part of a very elaborate simulation? Let’s imagine for a second that consciousness is separate from the body. The body is just a vessel, carrying the being inside of it. Consciousness is energy and energy is a property of matter, which in this case is your body.

“Energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to another.”

― Albert Einstein

Same as you would control a character in a game, imagine that your consciousness controls your body and governs your decisions. The body is just the hardware of your consciousness. I did not say consciousness like software, as in this analogy consciousness does not behave as software. In the sense that if the hardware were to be destroyed,  consciousness will still continue to exist or manifest, but in another form.

So, you are “assigned” a vessel, with a blank memory and some pre-defined strengths and weaknesses. You manifest in a physical form and start to evolve. You grow tall and strong and your mind is mature enough to make conscious decisions based on autonomy and free will.

Life is the master game, the experience which encapsulates all. You are in the center of that experience. Within the master game, there are smaller sets of games. Some more important than others. Some more complex than others. Some longer in duration than others. Some useful for your evolution, some not. An inception of games.

You are the main player in your storyline. But your storyline is not the only storyline. The game world is big, with many players. Same as you, each other player has its own storyline and has the potential to influence, alter or change other storylines. Including your own.


As a kid, you know how to play naturally. You play with other kids, which also do it instinctively. As you get older, you learn to play by the rules. You figure out the basic rules as you grow and mature. However, because everything is a game, within a game… go for a walk… within a game, during the course of your experience you have to understand many different rules in order to adapt to the many different games you will be playing during your life. You have the freedom to choose the sagas you prefer the most, but each saga comes with its own unique experience. Ever changing and always dynamic, based on how you play the game. Your experience is in direct connection to your reaction to the game.

As you mature if you’re wise enough, you might get to make the rules for everyone. And when I say “make” I don’t mean that you invent the rules yourself. No, that’s not how it works. The rules are already there. You’re just the clever ape who stopped for a second and observed the natural order of things. By observation, you can present the rules of the game to everyone else. They’ve been doing this all along, just unknowingly. That’s why the rules work, because everyone was playing by the rules all along. It will never work if you present something that isn’t already there. No one would buy into your game. Using that as a base you may be able to alter some storylines, by chnaging the existing rules in very subtle ways.

Life is not just a game. Life is a set of games, which act as a unity to your story line. Whatever you do, never sacrifice victory across a set of games for victory in one game. Never sacrifice your character for wining a game. You can only win if you are invited to play. The more you play the higher chance of success you have. That’s why it’s important to be a fair player. That’s why it’s important to stick to your core values. This makes the difference between a villain and a hero. Both play an equal part, but only one gets to triumph.

Bro flow


Lately I’ve been reading a lot about flow states. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the term a flow state can be described as such:

Defined as and “optimal state of consciousness where we feel our best and perform our best“, flow refers to those “in the zone” moments where focus gets so intense that everything else disappears. Action and awareness start to merge. Our sense of self vanishes. Our sense of time as well. And all the aspects of performance, both mental and physical, go through the roof.

Flow can be achieved both on an individual level as well as collectively, most commonly achieved by high performing teams. For example, SWAT teams describe the collective flow state as a type of telepathic connection, where team members manage to sync in such a way that little to no coordination is needed. When one guy looks to the left, the other looks to the right, another looks in front while there’s always someone watching their back.

Although the story I’m about to unfold doesn’t have a direct connection with a state of flow (or no connection at all as some may judge), this concept served as a source of inspiration for my story. I’m a romantic person and like to see(k) connections and synchronicities everywhere. This view of life helps me cope with existential anxiety. I prefer to build a meaningful story line around chaos, instead of living my life as a tiny drop in a random series of events.

Going with the flow

I started this spring with a visit to my home country, Romania. The reason for my visit was mainly business related, I had to deliver a training. Although most of my family, friends and connections are still back home, home doesn’t feel like home anymore. I am depressed and like any depressed person, I just wanted get over with my society dance and then crawl back into a dark corner and sob. And that’s exactly what I did.

One Friday after work, I invited my close group of friends over. The house was full but I felt empty inside. There was a predominant good vibe in the air but I could not tap into it. I laid on the floor like a starfish trying to connect to the conversation in the room, but was trapped inside my own thoughts.

Around midnight everybody went home and there I was, crawling back into my dark corner. I was just blankly staring at the ceiling, waiting for something to happen. Hoping that I will fall asleep soon. The silence in the room gets disrupted when Alex, a good old friend of mine calls to take me out for drinks and to catch up. I was about to accept his invitation, but then he tells me that he’s with some old friends from highschool. I had no problem meeting with Alex, he’s a close friend, someone who I can relate to. Someone who I can share my pain. Someone who doesn’t judge. However having the other company arround us would have changed the dynamic of the situation. I wasn’t in the mood of wearing a mask with a fake smile and a fake story of how good my life is. So I declined. He called again trying to convince me and I declined again. He then tells me that the other guys are about to head home. At which point I agree to go out and start walking towards the city center. I get there and it turns out that he lied. He knew I was depressed and he didn’t want me to be alone. I was so angry that I wanted to leave, but in the end I agreed to stay for just one drink.

We were in a pub and the music was pretty loud, you could barely hear the person next to you. I remember chugging one glass of wine after another, smiling and nodding like a silly person. I had no clue what we were talking about, but no one seemed to notice. At some point during the night our friends were trying to convince us to go to a different place, were it was supposed to be a lot more fun. I was looking for any excuse to ditch them so I passed. Alex passed as well. We decided to stay for one more drink, but in the end we left the pub at closing time. We were wasted and went to get some food with the intention to call it a night. We got some crappy junk food and were headed towards a taxi. For some reason I start feeling anxious about going home and propose we go to a casino instead. I knew it will work because Alex plays poker for a living. He will never decline an invitation to poker, especially if he’s drunk.

He’s a superstitious person and agreed to come on one condition. I pay for the money we gamble and he will pay me back once we get home. A few hours later I go all in and lose all my chips. I don’t normally gamble but I’m a reckless gambler when I’m sad. So I move from the poker table to the slots. Alex was still playing, but when he saw me where I was heading he cashed out and convinced me to leave before I max out all my cards.

We left the casino and we were about to head home. He invites me over to his place so I don’t spend the weekend alone. I accept his invitation, but I asked that we pass through my hotel so I can get my wee change. While walking to the hotel we start getting into a deep conversation about life, ups and downs, chance and fortune. He was telling me about a good friend of his (Laur), whom I also know, and how he was struggling with his music career. He’s a very talented person, but as all artists you never head of the struggle is real. He was saving up money, singing on the street, so he can buy an electro acoustic guitar. Alex was telling me that he was thinking of buying him a guitar, as a persent. At which point I said “Let’s go do it”.

With an almost terrifying look on his face, he was like “Dude, you’ve read my mind!”. At which point, the drunk and the stoner embark on an epic mission to deliver a good deed to a person in need. That was our bro flow moment. We lost all notion of time and everything came together in this one true moment. All of the sudden we had a goal which was bigger than us.

Because we wanted to surprise him, we did not call Laur to ask him what guitar he wants. We went into the music store and asked for an electro acoustic guitar. Being the ignorants that we are, super hyped about our mission, we ended up buying an electric guitar. Although the staff at the music store strongly insisted many times that we should get an electro acoustic guitar, because this is what Laur wanted, we still bought the electric one. Our reasoning was that of a teenage boy.

“This looks like an old man guitar. How is he supposed to pick up any chicks with this?”


The guys at the store made it very clear that we can’t take it back. We didn’t care. We were super convinced that we knew better than the rest of these music educated mortals. So we bought the shiny toy instead. We also bought a big ass case for it. It looked like we were carrying a sniper, turning heads as we walked down the main street. We didn’t know whether it was the sniper like case, our stupid smirks on our faces or the fact that we were drunk and high at 10 am in the morning. We didn’t care, we felt like a million bucks.

Alex then calls Laur with a stupid excuse to go visit him. We get to his place and we hand it over to him. He was super happy, you could see it all over his face. After a few moments, when his excitement lowered to normal levels, he tells us that he has some money saved up and that he’s thinking of exchanging it for an electro acoustic guitar. At which point Alex and I look at each other and start laughing hysterically. We then explain to Laur how stupid we were but we agreed to accompany him back to the store and try to change it.

In the end we waited outside as Laur went in and explained to the staff at the music store that although our intentions were noble, we’re still a bunch of retards. After one hour of negotiations, Laur manages to exchange the guitar to what he wanted initially.

Although our bro flow moment did not manifest itself as a typical flow moment, we still managed to pull it off in our own typically ungracious way. Here’s the result:

If you want to hear more of his music, or just want to say hi to this amazing guy, just drop him a line on his facebook page.

Tango of the sinners


Immoral, injust

Sin and lust

Fire of desire

Engage, commit, conspire…

I see two shades dancing with impunity

Two empty bodies, becomming unity

With no concern about tomorrow

One drop of extacy for an ocean full of sorrow

Why should we reason our destiny

If the drop is deeper than eternity

Why should we deny this chapter

Let’s live for now and agonize after

Let’s sway to the rythim of disaster

For this is our Dance Macabre

It was all so divine

But we ran out of time



Disgustingly delicious


When I was eleven, I had my first taste of Jamon Serrano. My mother had brought from Spain an entire Jamon which she placed on a special support (soporte jamonero) just like you see in typical Spanish Tapas places. Back then I had a very big appetite for meat, especially red meat. I am also the type of person who is keen on trying new experiences. Seeing the Jamon, nicely placed on its support, I was practically drawling.

Because we were having company over, I was supposed to wait until dinner was served so I don’t spoil my appetite. My expectations grew so much and I was so eager to taste it, that I was the first one who took a seat at the dinner table. I even asked for extra slices as I was super sure that this new food was going to rock my world.

Haha (still funny now)… I was never so wrong. It smelled just like my football socks used to smell after an entire day of kicking the ball. Oh man, I was so disgusted by it that my mother saw it on my face and started laughing about it.

Four years later I moved to Spain. More often than not, there was a Jamon in the kitchen, with a Jamonero (a special knife for cutting thin slices) placed beside it. At first, I was just ignoring it, seeing it more like a pile of dirty socks than a gourmet food.

At some point, I don’t remember exactly how it happened I started tasting it again. I had small bites from time to time, until this very disgusting food started to grow on me. I still thought it’s super grose, but somehow delicious. It did not take too long until this disgustingly delicious food became one of my favourites, especially Pan Tumaca.

Only after clearing my expectations, but even more importantly, my prejudice I was able to really taste and enjoy this food. Before tasting it, I placed it on a golden throne, on top of all the food I tasted before. A completely non-rational decision, more like a chemical reaction. The closest I got to the “love at first sight” feeling.

After I had a first bite, I was so quick to dismiss it, that I did not even conceive giving something so disgusting another bite. How could I eat this smelly dry meat covered in weird looking fat, bleah. How can so many people eat this crap. It took me a while until I opened my mind and decided to give it another chance.

A fresh mindset opens new doors, doors which were once locked. Arriving at a different answer to a question you’ve answered before is a peculiar feeling. One that enlightens us. We all have our own version of the Jamon story. Could be smelly cheese, could be some other part of life, not related to food. Some of us manage to get to the delicious part, others just spit it out in disgust the first time they try it. They do not dare to taste it again, one mouthfull of digusting is enough.

Although I stopped eating meat all together, this story stuck with me. It taught me a valuable lesson and it especially resonates with me now. I never felt so disgusted about something which was once so delicious… and at the same time, something so disgusting never felt so delicious before.