Art and War

Is very true that through photography, I express my soul experiences. I have often been asked why I do not write a few impressions on each photo, why I do not do photojournalism, or why each photo is not accompanied by a simple comment.
If I were in war I could have written, although nowadays we could say that it is a war, with a treacherous enemy, unseen, evil but much more effective than an army of people with a rifle pointing at you he can go down and kill mercilessly and without being able to respond in any way, as Bill Gates said in a conference that many may not have justified by labeling him an eccentric, crazy millionaire.

It is known, however, that a photograph can illustrate and say much more than a thousand words, which is very true.
I have written some stories about life, about myself, which some have read and may have appreciated, but many more have ignored by cataloging them as a waste of words thrown on paper. But I didn’t get upset.
I read many posts of others, some I liked very much, and others did not, I did not express myself in any way, although maybe in my mind I considered a time wasted. What am I trying to do? I try to paraphrase a famous French writer, Marcel Proust, “In search of lost time …” to say as a result that I also read many nonsense and no-nonsense writings, most of which are political in nature, and for me politics is an “endangered” species.

I know I’m unrecoverable guy from this point of view, it just doesn’t interest me.
Returning to photography, however, I try to express exactly what I feel at that moment through the images posted by me, even though the theme addressed is the nature with its eccentricities, inciting me much stronger than the other themes presented.
If you try to delve into their artistic depth you will notice, I notice feelings of love, beauty, art, witnesses to this silent procession being my air, the slight expression of the spring wind, water, sunlight and obviously my new indefatigable friend Maya.
And maybe there is something, fear and frustration, the feeling of nausea that I have when I go for a walk no more than 300 meters from the house, because being military orders given by the Romanian government, I can only walk the animal company 1 hour in the morning and 1 hour in the evening, and 2 hours to make purchases from the market or from the nearby store.

Why fear? Because where I go I always have the camera with me, and not for the sensation but to hunt subjects when necessary, and I honestly would not want to be asked by the police what I do and why I do not comply, of these stupid ordinances. Yes, military ordinances, which are very restrictive in terms of freedom of movement.
Yes, the fear that they may receive fines, which I honestly have nothing to pay for, because they are so great at being at the mercy of the people in uniform, be it policemen, gendarmes or military who walk the streets to respect the military restrictions imposed, and who it would put me in the mug more than I am now.

God, what times have we been given to live, and that’s only because of a small virus, or … maybe there were other causes that we don’t know and maybe we’ll find out over … about 100 years.
I’ve had enough. Tomorrow are the flowers before the Easter in our Orthodox religion.
Perhaps, however, our Lord, then when he rises from the grave … with Death near Death stepping on … he will have mercy on us, his servants, will give us a sign of joy and hope, that we may soon get rid of this nap, as it always did on big days.
And now, what to believe…in art…in war? God, please, enlighten me!!!
God help!

 

… Essay on life as a chess game

I have never been able to be anchored in everyday life. There are too few circles of people who are discussing more interesting things, such as art, culture, literature, and more circles of people who discuss and comment on politics even if they are not good at it.

What does politics mean? Politics = Power = Money = Interest.

What we all are interested in money, perhaps the most interesting segment of the metaphorical circle called Politics.

 

But acquiring them is done through work, with a lot of sweat to ensure our existence and hard daily living.

What is most tragic, however, is that we are considered, simple people, yes, true, but with a lot of good sense and having a soul, we deeply think, produce and realize interesting ideas, we create discussions, great things to do we enjoy ourselves and our fellows.

But the most important quality we have with politics and politicians is that we do not manipulate while we are being manipulated.

The other elements, politics, power and interests, and even their propaganda policies, are not interesting to many, not even to me, but on the contrary even if, to say we understand them very well, we are scarred by them.

And then one can ask the natural question and why not pertinent … “Why should I be anchored in everyday reality?”
Difficult to explain, but even harder to accept, and maybe others, but I do not want to panic because panic as a state, is actually a primitive emotion, so I always invite all opinions and opponents with powerful minds.

So, my life taught me to become passionate in thought, in the memory of some or the others.

However, some policies should consider them, even manipulation policies. Chess has game started, white moves … so En garde…

The past few days, Mona, my beloved little rabbit, a pure soul like a lily, imperial lily, but who loved me unconditionally, had a little health problem that I, perhaps from too much zeal I wanted I do not really suffer too much. I regret that I have to use the past time, but you will see why.

She looked at me with some shining eyes, of which I understood her suffering. So I went to a veterinarian to consult. She gave me a treatment that had to be applied to relieve her suffering.

Anyway, she was quite stressed, but in the end I had to go two days to get rid of the problems that Mona had.
I guarantee you that if she could have spoken to me, she would have told me, and I would have known in the meantime that it hurt her, but only with her look she was saying was all.

I was four days without, no results, with all the drugs given. I went to another veterinarian to consult her again and get another authorized opinion, and I will go again. But although I warned her from the very beginning, to have a delicate behavior towards her, she did not take into account, Mona was even worse, and when she left, she just died.

Can you imagine how much suffering has passed? I raised her for over 8 years, with very much attention and love. Why did I have to take the incompetence of some veterinarians who, although paying for a lot of money, killed my beloved pet. It’s true I would have paid for it anyway, only to know Mona well and happy.
Is not that into politics, of some who want to get rich quickly without doing anything? All politics is that too. And then what else do I think?

I said from the beginning that Mona must be treated as a little princess, which allows me to quote Pericle: “We love the beautiful but very humble …!” Which obviously the veterinarian did not do, anyway, I am very sad and upset at the same time.

Maybe I should not have told this sad story, which marked me very deeply and led me quickly towards the negative pole, even though I would have wanted to think positively, my hope in this case being a real disaster.

To be avenged, is it? I also thought about this, but do you think I could solve something? Mona cannot bring herself back to life anyway, even if she wants it, and revenge would be much better than ashes. But I try to be strong and look in the future, the void in my soul may be filled in one way or another by someone else or not, not Mona being replaced (with even a bunny) just to make me so I pass more easily over this unfortunate stage of life, but honestly to be fantasy is the one that creates my problem.

One thing is well known, from where she is from heaven, Mona will watch me and she will save me as he did five years ago with love and bestowal.

Do not have the impression that I’m a fool or being crazy, I’m in need of psychological counseling, but I certainly know I’m a person who attracts and can generate negative effects. That, I I know from birth.

 

It is very difficult for me to defer to this idiotic state, although I try permanently, sometimes laugh about what happens to me, sometimes avoid the conflicts that I am generating as much as possible.

But how long before?
Life is like a chessboard, every piece moved, must be well thought out and analyzed so as not to fall into the opponent’s trap, sometimes depending very much on the frivolous state called luck, not for the old Chinese saying it is good to rely on the mistakes of the opponent.
The right ones, personally, I have drawn my luck with my hand, a state I have called a chance.
You see there are a lot of reasons that make me as I am, let’s say the original, I do not want to kid somebody, or be influenced by something, but do exactly as I think it would be better.
But I do not always get out of my own way, but I’m still trying, maybe once I’m out of my passion this might well change my poor course of life.

Move the final … chess and mat …

June/20/2019                                                                                                                          PM

A little big adventure …
Do you remember Jim Carey in the famous movie “Detective of Fish”? I’m sure yes, but I do not think you can imagine me, but I tried to be a little detective, even if I had no idea of this job.
I’m sure Sir Conan Doyle would laugh at his ears, if he were alive, along with his famous Sherlock Holmes creature, but he could make me a funny, suspicious amateur character in one of his novels.

And yet it is true, even though in my knowledge of amateur and profiler criminologist at the same time, I managed to solve a rather difficult situation at the police job, a job I had at one point.
God, who would have believed? And the peak of irony at that time smoked and pipe, they!!! Not to look like Sherlock Holmes, but to get rid of this sinful vice. I obviously did not leave.
But here’s how things happened, noting that the characters in this little story are as real as possible!!!! hahahahaha!!! Let’s call it innocence…

Not being “Mr.Bean,” but with some of his stupidity, I was moving with quick morning steps to work, and I do not know why, but with the hope of drinking my coffee quietly, and prepare me the program for that day.

What to say! A beautiful day out with a lot of sunshine for that pretty morning, whose strong rays, my cheeks cheerfully, and the gentle winds of my wind sprang to me.
However, I had no pleasure in going to work, Lord! And I had laziness in me, very big, and it would be hard to describe it in words, but I had to, I did not have anywhere.
I do not get well in the office, thinking about the coffee I was going to enjoy, when I get a phone call from the Secretary of the Big Chief who called me urgently to him.
I was wondering, what does God want and that this morning? He slept badly last night, does not drink his coffee first and then work?
I was asking a lot of questions I could not answer, and I’m having problems.
Maybe he does not have the internet, or maybe his computer does not work, or maybe my fellow did something stupid?
Between us, I did not have a blast of mumble on that beautiful morning, beautiful for some, but for me pretty bad, but it was known that those from the Police Information Service were a little bit headed, what I am doing.
I was going to find out in a few moments, even if I was asking myself if the human minds are perceive relevant machinations in either stupidity or good, using people like chess pawns. Great bad luck, “crazy” I was.

I’m headed for his cabinet with a bitter taste in his mouth and I do not care anyhow, “whatever he is,” I said.
I walked shy and humble into the anteroom, the secretary going to introduce me to his office.
This with a discreet sign urged me to come in, what I did. I was obviously expecting to feel like a mood at me as usual, but I was surprised that it was not like that, “that’s still sleeping well tonight,” I said to myself, waiting to see what he asked me.
“Do you know that I received a phone call from the Police Commander, that there is leakage of information on the Internet, from our computer”? He says with a very low voice, but it has made me a little more careful.
“No,” I answer, though I was amazed at the question. “But there’s no way this happens because it’s connected to secured internet in the first place, and secondly, all the slots on the computer are sealed by me, except the one that the printer is connected to. Moreover, the connection with the Commissariat does not start with accessing the password, thus starting the database, and the password changes once a week, as you know, and yet another additional connection is not possible “.
“Go and check again, and tell me what you have found,” he said in a surprisingly cordial and friendly tone, a look that did not have a character.

“Good Boss” I go and check, but I will do it in a discreet way because I do not know the password of the criminals database and I do not want to put myself in an embarrassing situation with the service officer, “I answer I.
“The service officer has a more specific protocol established by me and the Police Commissariat, then I implemented the database software into the computer and I just want to respect it,” I politely replied.
“If you need the password you come to me and tell me, do not get involved with yourself, and run away to solve the problem,” he says.
“Okay Boss!” “That’s what I’m going to do,” I say, knowing he had a lot of confidence in me.
I leave his office being contradicted by what happened, and without knowing it. I was absolutely convinced that we had followed all the steps transmitted by the Police Station to secure the Internet. But, as I was thinking of the computer not being the last generation and made of my own scrap of modules, there would still be the possibility of accessing the internet through a third connection attached to it, but how? I could not imagine. And yet, a person in the institution has been accessed by a policeman who has become computer scientist overnight and who thus creates a security breach, thus committing an IT crime.
“Either,” I said to myself, “I will catch it quickly.”
Standing in the office and enjoying the warm, smelling coffee, I just came up with ideas on how to do such a unique situation for me. I cannot say too much and I do not want to go into too much technical detail to give ideas to others who are going to commit such crimes.

I went to the service officer to first make a direct view of the computer, and then make a decision. I want to tell you that I was the only person in the Institution, apart from the Director who had permanent access to all the offices, and any access to this database was counted in both the computer and the Commissioner.
However, that was not what was accessed, but on the opposite side of the person that made the access she wanted to simply view certain sites.
Meanwhile, I sent my colleague to solve the incidents that might occur on the network for some reason and to guide other colleagues in the secrets of using software implemented on computers to relieve myself of other tasks being free to resolve the thorny problem.
The next day I brought my home laptop with another operating system, an alternative system, namely UNIX (LINUX), which I was used to, but the others did not know it.
I was not accustomed to such situations, but I was trying to solve the problem of cybercrime, less orthodox, to find out the hidden files that were not included in the computer-generated addresses in her zinc logs, but I’m concerned about the report writing to the Director, only those essential data, observing a golden rule, namely, “Never write anything that will incriminate you.”
“What God is an investigation, is not it?” Many who had access to the computer were failing it either intentionally or out of sin or for other reasons, being forced by the situations created to solve the problems in a short time.

The night being always a very good advisor to me, we solved the problem the next day. Many could say, “Look at that has one idea and that fixed”, please, and so what?
Obviously this was not the case, I wrote the report and went to the Director, telling him what I found on the computer, what types of sites were accessed, and how I was operating.
Normally the smoker who did this or the tricks if there were more, introduced an internet stick to the bearer in the printer slot, entering various “XXX” sites during the night. The director will check the surveillance cameras and discover the offenders, which has happened.
At the Commissariat level, they knew what I was going to do, but they did not know what I was going to do, that’s my little secret to them, anyway they had enough. But they did not know that I was specialized in alternative operating systems, which was a plus for me compared to them, but the search for the truth was not for the “weak of the angel” but for those enough, and I could do it without their help.
For me, however, life among the cops was “like a box of chocolates that when you open it, you never know what surprise awaits you”, however the situation created and quickly resolved has imposed respect for many against me, what obviously made me happy.
What those who have done so to “madmen” cannot say otherwise, only they know because they have damaged the image of the institution in front of others and the fact that they have done cybercrime, and I did not, I told the Commissioner how I did it, the right was a pity on my part, I admit, but that’s how I paid a deal for the miseries they’ve done to me in the past, uffffffffff! I got a little too cool.

I could not say it was a complicated operation, but the intuition I had was beneficial in catching criminals.
What I really enjoyed was the fact that the strategic move on the chess board that the “crazy” I did, it seems clever, has “brought me to the final victory.”
I wonder, but why does not he offer me other desired and dreamed joys, but only the hardworking joys?
Is this a determinant element in the sense of my life?
Is this a little victory, to create the opportunity to dream again, or the state of transit in which I am actually translating myself, however, that the expectation is worth? Even if nothing happens, creating an “empty time” in my existence?
We will live and see, although not always dreams are given to be fulfilled … maybe …

May 5/17
P.M.

Hidden Truth …
It’s finally time to write something, because that’s how I feel and I want it, maybe stuffed things or things less pleasant.
I could say that it is less common for me to write, and not because I do not have interesting subjects, but on the contrary, expression in my case is not by words, words or beautiful words but by photography.
But the state on the Internet almost all day, even if it is beautiful weather or even if it is bad weather, I occupy almost all the time.
Sometimes when it’s very nice outside and there is plenty of light to play with it, I take my camera and I’m going to “hunt” subjects that I find interesting.
Maybe sometimes I have to plan my time so I can do everything I have planned.
Yes, it could be an idiom, but I did not really want to put it into practice because all my life I had time planned either at home or at work, and now that I am free I do not want to do it. Why to become a robot again? Well, no, not a definite one.
I’m not a fatalist, but I find that from day to day the time goes to my detriment, which makes me sad even if I think positively, maybe even more than anybody else, the glory of the Lord.
Although I have a lot of topics to deal with, the momentary inspiration is the most spectacular for me, for the simple reason that it deviates from the usual canons you do not always have to follow, either in photographic art or in other areas I’m good at.
“Do not I put too much soul in what I do?” Anyway for me, not only is habituality the second nature, but also the fact that it is a metaphor of pertinent life, and I take it as such.
Sometimes it is said about those who have done or have followed the cobblestone path of the exact sciences, that they are a bit goofy (excusing the less academic expression used) but who still have a native talent in various arts, either in music or in painting, or literature.
The native talent of writing and reporting facts or actions in the form of reportage, or novel, SF, love, cops, or historical is confirmed by many personalities.
For example, Einstein, although in the primary classes did not shine through the qualities, elaborated the famous theory of relativity, a theory that revolutionized the scientific world, so is thought, conceived it and demonstrated it physically and mathematically .I’m trying to hang on the paper, just a few aspects of my life, even at the risk of using a “somewhat outdated language,” as someone told me on the blog, because if I stay well and think I had a more tumultuous past in existing either through the transition from communism to capitalism 30 years ago or through my own life’s life, not so easy.
But perhaps the narrative description I use, maybe the Romanian-English translation that I do for all my friends outside, is a little more cumbersome, considering that I’m using free translation software from the internet, and the fact that English is not the language I am currently talking about.
But I think if I could think in English, it would be much simpler, but that takes time.
But I think, as the archaic language used in modern literature, can counterbalance the fact that I am not used to writing, although I am struggling, but at the same time giving the writing a special flavor and flavor that often pleases those who read from time to time what I write.
Even if I asked more bloggers to tell me their opinion about what I wrote, the answer was simple “continue to write”, although it would be interesting to know if I liked what I wrote.

I blazed and continued, perhaps not constantly, but when and when I was thinking of that prophetic word that has a lot of truth, “Only the suckers hoped …”.
However, hope is a sense of trust in the right solution, what they do, the patience of a virtue, and time a classic measuring instrument like a clepsydra that drains the sand from one container to another. “Until when …?”
Byron defined poetically-metaphorically “patience,” as a makeup on the face of existence, “and I can say that truth or search for truth is not for the infirm of the angel.
I will not go into too much detail, however, with the desire to write or express me in writing, or perhaps to make known whatI believe or think about life; I will continue whatever it is. Life is a succession of sequences, some expected, others less expected, but the weirdest you have to face permanently, otherwise you will not even be able to convince yourself of your sensory capabilities to overcome successfully.
They are hindrances, do not say no, but human nature also endowed us with extrasensory capacities that cause you to overtake one way or the other, but some risks deserve you to assume, and there are no limits between what is and what it should be.For example, at night, even if I’m not a follower of watching television shows, I’ve been habitually forgotten just for the sake of relaxing, getting rid of my mind and forgetting the stressful issues of the day, but that does not mean I do not read, but on the contrary, I can read even more.
Do not imagine that I want to review them, but on the contrary I mean that I was very inspired.
What struck me and made me think more deeply is a police actress, whom I will not name his name, but which I have always looked with great pleasure not because of the action but because of the characters, the action being obscure, ordinary, sterile.
There have been situations that have prompted me to revisit it even 2-3 times, or whenever it has resumed, on the television station.
There were three different series, with three different actors and different partners, all of them having something in common, namely the psychological language raised in relations with the other characters, and the less common action for police officers, the topics being approached being usually violent actions or violent scenes or even ghost scenes in our everyday life, but I have been following the very interesting dialogues.What I notice, each of them had totally opposed partners, or totally opposed partners, distinguished as if respecting just the title of attraction, as two different magnetic poles, or as two different colors of black and white, perfectly inherent.
What is even more interesting is that they are intellectual characters far above the media (attribute less common to today’s cops), using an academic language of fine psychologists who give a special flavor to the series, thus imposing a respect for the girl by the other characters, evidencing when they are not skidding over the actions imposed by the actions.
I think it’s among the few police series I look at, then I do not read, as I’m used to.
What else can you do in a world so crazy, full of suburban politics and hypocrites, when you have certain limits from which you can not deviate, but which impose restrictions from all points of view.
Even life is limited, the glory of the Lord that you cannot know when it will end, how it will end even if you know when it started.
But at least its size must be fully exploited, although not always what you want to happen.
The place of our living is the brain, which is an instrument of our own consciousness, reason, will and creativity, with the purpose of distributing the functions on its entire surface, from one hemisphere to the other.
That’s why I think it’s very important to relax and release yourself from the forces that make you unpleasant, whether you see a good movie or listen to good music that detracts from them or read a good book.
Many things you do or many actions you take can create a pleasant intimacy less well known to many but that can get rid of frustrations and allow self-control.
I honestly did not always succeed in many cases and I suffered, but I do not consider myself a moralist wolf. But as I said before, I’m like an open book, maybe the next time I write to give a new page, to a new chapter.

PM/April 8^th,

 

 

36 Hours of Nightmare

“Panic is a primitive emotion”

The cold had surpassed any limit of human supportability. Nevertheless, with courageous courage I did not even go on my way, although out there was -24 degrees           Celsius, and I just did not care.

The weather was unfavorable even for a dog to let him out. All the time I was wondering, would I have a chance to succeed in what I had proposed to myself? But the great desire to win, led me to cope with the cold (the devastating frost), the snow that scattered every step, or the pole all of a sudden.

I had a ticket on the night train that was going to Timisoara at the company headquarters where I was trying to get myself hired for an interview. I honestly do not care who, what will I be asked or what will they ask me to do to prove my technical qualities.

I do not know why, but I started on this road with a strange feeling of insecurity, but not of fear or fear, or frustration, a natural feeling for all those who try to penetrate the new one, to penetrate another system.

In fact, I wanted to escape to a better world, not counting the consequences that could have occurred. In a better world as it was in my imagination, or perhaps how I dreamed of it after years of hard work in a job with a lot of people as bosses, bosses politically obvious and not advanced because of their managerial quality.

And there was another point, the fact that I wanted to show my creativity, to demonstrate to me and not to them why I was able to do it, even if we had a lot of barriers and contradictions in the form of the so-called policies management.

But I knew that I had gone from a very high salary to a lower salary, and it was lower, but I needed silence and not the hideous breath of a bloody director on the back all of the day, the hour having the ultimate goal of giving up my psychic.

Afterwards, I would have learned from my former colleagues that the hiring manager actually wanted to put a relative in my office, a character I knew as a nullity and an inability to think of the crash. But the fact that I took the step into the unknown, I did not want to give it satisfaction and only a moral palm. It struck too much in my feelings, the psychic demolition by trying to break the brick with the virtual wall I surrounded in hopes of protecting me against daily mischief.

 

The platform was deserted at that late hour of the night, poorly lighted, it pressed me very hard, creating confused feelings between desire and hatred, between curiosity and cold chills, and why not, the fact that I had not traveled much by train.

 

In my mind I imagined how it would be, to be alone in a classroom compartment of class 1, to dream, to read, and why not try to sleep a little.

 

But it was not the way I intended. Imagine that we had not been on the train for about 20 years. Anyway, I believed and hoped that in 20 years something will change for the better. And yet not. I’m wondering why?

 

The answer was very simple because they did not want to invest in any form, or maybe someone prevented them from realizing what they wanted, the wagons being miserable in all points, dirty, dirty, with seats whose upholstery was broken and exfoliated, filled with smoke like Greek, poorly laminated taverns.

 

Paraphrasing a former politician who has suddenly become a democrat and supporter of democracy, a visionary in politics, said in a television show that we need 20 years like us all the other ordinary people to understand what democracy is, but it was wrong that he did not say 20 years from now. But the reality is that many did not understand it, and on the contrary, the same habits and decadent orientalisms before 1989.

 

The steam on the platform gave me the impression of a frame in a Russian film, where the frost was at home, diffused brightly, that you had the impression of a dense, mountain-looking mountain, the personal waiting to leave had the appearance of passing passers-by. And yet … the time of departure was approaching slowly and sadly, marked by the two languages–of the platform clock and the noise produced by its central secondary.

 

I did not know what was waiting for me, but I had to seated myself in one of the compartments of that wagon, to travel and become an integral part of it for 10-12 hours until I arrived in Timisoara.

 

The distance was quite high around 600 km from Bucharest, which is not much in view of the length of the train, the wagons and the running track (sine) and the moderate speed of the locomotive plus the weather was not favorable for such trips.

 

In my luggage I had my camera I am never separated, even more so that I knew I would make nice pictures and still remain some nice memories in such poor conditions, as well as a few changes of clothes as I was not sure if I will stay in the city the following night and I will leave the next day.

Being the end of the week, I will see what I will do after the interview and I will decide, so it was natural to be prepared as strictly as necessary.

 

I was also interested in the weather forecast coming to the end of February, to know how it will be in Timisoara, anyway being convinced it will be much warmer and better than home.

Without panic for what to follow, and knowing that panic is a primitive emotion, I got courage and got into the train to find the ticket to find my seat for which I was paying.

 

But here the surprise, the compartment was miserable and ill-lighted, the sofas looked like after the war, but what disgusted me most was the cold in the compartment, as if it had not been heated for a long time. I said to myself that after the train started, the conpartment would warm up.

 

Maybe you will laugh, but I felt like a warm soul, put on for a few hours in the refrigerator for “frowning”. Oh God! I said I went through even more difficult situations, which I finally deposited. When the boss arrives to check my ticket, I will talk to him to find a suitable solution for me and not to have to take the cold in the wagon for 10-12 hours, especially since I was in the 1st class on the train.

I felt a bitter taste in my mouth, maybe annoyance, perhaps the inner soul revolt because I could not imagine that in the 21st century there could be such travel conditions, but I swore to myself that as long as you longer live will not circulate never train for those who should handle yet the comfort of the people should be aware of what to do and not mock them          by such chicanes miserable.

I would have had to take the plane, but it cost too much for my financial possibilities from that time plus I did not know if the round-trip tickets would be settled by the company I was going to hire. That’s great, is not it?

The night was dark, black like a cocoon made of dirty snow and frost, of the terrible frost from outside.

I crouched on one of the chairs with a book in my hand and the tablet along, hoping everything would be good and I would forget at least during the travel the inhuman conditions I was going through.

At one point a sinister sound was heard at the train station, and with a tremendous wreckage of cars, the train set in motion, which I was glad to finally leave the train. I did not want to look out the window because I had no idea what the lights of the station or the forgotten lights lit up in the houses of the people.

But my curiosity made me look at the eye on the glass, not looking for something, but just not seeing the misery I was trying to look for in the minds of beautiful pictures that might have made me delight, so if I could live the real-life misery. Perfect human desires, often difficult to achieve but not impossible to imagine. And yet, through a will of effort, I succeeded.

Later on, the boss came, checked the ticket, and I waited for the cold in the compartment, but this one, with an outpouring air of superiority, but with a look of a tame man, tried to explain to me that the car was attached after the train and had no time to warm up because of the cold outside, and that I should have a little patience.

His answer made me very sick that in a few words I sent him out of the compartment, thinking about who to cry for such an infernal journey. But I slowly went back to my vegetative state, thinking of other things.

 

I was sorry I did not take a bottle of vodka with me to warm up from time to time. However, the train did not have a restaurant car, as it was not necessary during the night, so the boss had responded to me, which, of course, made me indignant, but anyway it was too late to do something plus that I was going at an interview, and what it would mean to smell the drink.

 

The noise of the train wheels itself was jerky and steady, but from time to time there was a long whistle of the locomotive, so I woke up to reality.

In the morning I get a phone call from the person I’m about to meet and support the interview. She wondered what time I arrived in Timisoara. But my voice seemed rather cold and unfriendly, I thought I was mistaken, but I said I would find the answer to this question a few hours later.

 

Finally, I arrived in Timisoara, the weather was beautiful and the peak, the outside was warmer than it had been all night in the compartment, and what seemed to me most curious was the fact that everything was dry without snow, which I enjoyed thinking, what beautiful photos will I do.

 

I was very happy to get out of that compartment, miserable and awkward by the train, and I was able to breathe again a fresh air, a “west” air, giving me the courage to believe that all the bad was good, and that the step that I did was not useless, thus reassuring me in my confidence. We hoped to be fine, but what was going to happen is very difficult to describe.

 

I was expecting a guy in front of the garage with a company car, not even guessing that that guy would be the character he was going to give the interview to, so once in the car the interview actually started.

 

I opened my mind, with a slightly higher language than usual, I tried to hold a conversation, I am absurd from my point of view, about all sorts of things I did not care about to not seem snob to him and to maintain as much as a pertinent discussion.

 

I was asked if I stayed in Timisoara the next night, I replied that I would, but I do not know if I will find a place to stay. He conveyed to me that there are no places of accommodation in the city, the hotel or the hostel due to concerts and the great flow of people from that period. Clean up bad luck for me. So I did not know what to do but to go if I could get that night and to stay on the streets, it was not my kind. It was the first signal to me that I was not wanted at that company, otherwise they, as good Christians, would have taken care of finding a hotel rest before I arrived in Timisoara.

 

Finally, I said that after the interview, I will go to Bucharest with the first train to which I will be able to take my ticket. Frankly, he could have been a good host to get me a return ticket at least, but it was not like that. This raised another big question mark. I did not say anything waiting to see on my own skin what other great unpleasant surprises will happen.

 

We got to the company. Though it was not too big, the building I entered was beautiful, but it seemed like interior arrangements seemed to me unfriendly, unhealthy or even ugly about the critical architecture, but I did not comment in any form so as not to be considered a bad person.

I was walked through all the offices, feeling like a cat coming from Bucharest, or as like ET in science fiction movie. They may have done so with the good intention of being known by future colleagues, or at least I hope so.

 

We got to the room where the interview was about to take place. After more than 2 hours of waiting, there was another person who once joined the company and what I had to do in the company and that I was going to be assigned to the IT department. Anyway, it was my advantage, although I was not asked anything. But they did not know that I was a construction engineer, and that I had done many years of construction, and later I became an IT analyst after graduating from a university and a master, so was like a hobby for me, and why not for later to be a practitioner.

 

But as any host that respects I was not even served with a glass of water coming in after many hours of train, which I could not overlook, again creating a big sign question. I understand they did not like me and they did not want me, but why bother me and humiliate me like that? Maybe because of my special training or maybe I do not want to ruin certain games? The future was to decide.

In the end they accepted my entry into the company, equipped me with a computer and a phone call to deal with the shops in Bucharest with another colleague, and some papers in which my job was written, as if I had come from another planet and I did not know what to do.

I left, the guy who took me from the station took me to the center of Timisoara, so I can get out of there. Thinking about the newly created situation, what should I understand, the gesture of elegance with which I was treated, or the step taken by myself in the hope of a better life, was in fact a total failure? Or maybe, why not both?

Anyway, I felt abandoned as a street man, in a city I did not know too well anyway, I felt ill due to their unnatural behavior towards me, or more like a forgotten wreck at sea wearing windless wind to an unknown dry.

The impression was, however, that I played poker like a wrong card, which would have followed me looking for another job in a short period of time and getting rid of the dark area of the obscure company I was entering.

I went out of town looking for a travel agency to get my return ticket home, possibly eating something at a fast food and drinking some juice. The truth is that food can suffer but without drinking water, not.

Obviously, I did not find a ticket to the agency, telling my clerk there that I can only find two hours in the train station just before leaving the train. Of course I did not give up thinking that I was born in the bull’s sign I will never surrender to the negative impulses accumulated both during the night and the day and if I lost a battle does not mean that we lost the war. I was wondering how rhetoric I had received under the belt that day?

I did not give up, but I was stressed, I took some pictures on my way, because Timisoara, the town of martyrs, the town where the Romans began to revolt on December 16, 1989, the city where democracy was first wanted, deserves much more attention than the mosquitoes that have made me that day a handful of miserable employees, going to leave totally disappointed with the situation.

I ate something on the road, drank some juice as I had proposed, went to the train station, guided by an inner self-conscious force and the adrenaline gained on that day and the confidence in me that until the end I will achieve what I have proposed. I found a ticket to a night train, and history would be repeated.

I had the chance to find the heated compartment this time, which has further mitigated some of the other gaps.

After this sad episode of life, I wonder what will be in the coming days, which defensive techniques and strategies will I adopt in order to preserve my soul integrity?

The answer I found was given by

“Sun Bin-in the famous book Nobile Art of War “:
“Retrieving at the shelter of the night, such as a cicada that leaves the shell, is a means to overcome the opponent. In order to face a lightning attack, a light intervention force, made up of specially prepared warriors, is used.”

My question is: Who is the opponent? If I can deal with it and if I can really deal with what I have proposed?

However, the strategies I knew…