Memento at sunset

Sunset capturing diamonds 
in rosy cheeks
Of puffy clouds
A warm ocean breeze softly moving 
across green 
volcanic sands
Or was it the sweet whisper of the palms, 
swaying
Ginger root and hibiscus
Reflecting in the vast pool of tomorrows
Yet unlived

Memories 
not yet created
Dreams 
not yet born
desires 
not yet spoken
Life 
not yet lived 

To live is to be
To be is to feel
To feel is to suffer

To suffer is to live?

My sixth sense...

A dear childhood friend phoned to tell me that my premonition about him had come true. I got shivers. He won best actor in Hollywood. Months ago, maybe even last year, I had told him that he would walk the red carpet of Hollywood. That seemed an awfully big stretch at the time, since he was a little-known actor, famous in Romania and the surrounding European countries, but surely not in America. I told him, I had felt it. Just as I felt that Romney would win... Last year, when he first re-emerged as a contender? Strange, isn't it. I'll say. And no, I don't see dead people, or hear any strange voices. I just get this very real feeling about certain people. Call it a gut-check. Perhaps it is what the prophet Samuel ( not that I am a prophet) felt when he approached David. He felt that the David was the anointed one.
I guess I am nothing special, I am no big deal. But I have surely learned to trust my very awkward feeling. It's just there. No matter how impossible it may seem to accomplish, it always works out and comes true in the end. I guess it is time I embrace my sixth sense.

It's no big deal, really...

Oh little towns of Iowa...

I really should not be writing this. I will probably regret it...anyway, here goes.

Months ago, or almost a year ago I was slowly starting to fall out of love with Mr. Obama. The electricity and excitement I'd felt throughout his campaign had faded and were instead replaced by monotony and a coolness. The White House that the Obamas now inhabited was now more like a house of ice, an igloo, metaphorically speaking. After energizing the crowds and inspiring hope and change, more like the second coming of Christ, he had now retreated to a life of routine and boredom, almost forgetting altogether the energy and enthusiasm of those who so ardently had supported him. I was one of those people...

Over time, my enthusiasm to faded and waned over months. I say, jokingly, that I lost Obama somewhere between the sands of Libya and Egypt. Since then, my feelings grew colder by the day. Not sure if it was his reluctance or mere hesitance to engage with the people. Or did all of his public interactions become roboticized, mechanical? It all seemed too orchestrated and rehearsed by his aides. It did not come naturally to him. He was not the same enthused candidate I witnessed on the trail and in whom I so very much believed... I thought.

My feelings had changed. With every news commentary, I grew increasingly distant toward this man I once absolutely adored and vouched for. And felt that when the next election came around, I would prepare myself to vote for somebody else.

Then this little known man, named Romney entered the scene, just, oh, as unemployment and the economy had reached rock bottom and,let's say, the Obama mantra of hope and change had worn...one would say at the right time..

And he immediately gets my full attention.

Suddenly, I am all ears when he shows on television, there is a fascination with him, he is new, he is fresh. He is indeed everything Obama was three years ago. Only more refined, seasoned, he seems. I immediately like him, but still there is this heavy pull toward Obama. You may call me a contrarian. The independent that likes to call the shots. An there may be truth to that... All I know is that when I saw Romney, whom I previously hadn't even heard of, I saw a president. Blame my intuition. But I feel it. And if I feel it, I must write about it.

So, Iowa, work your magic tomorrow...or I might regret having written this...