What to say...

Lately, I see a habit: one post in Romanian, one in English. So I guess it's the turn of the English post, therefore "What to say?"

No news about the plants of this year, haven't seen them in a while, no garden visits lately.

I miss the old atmosphere, the one I've known as a child, the temperature, the perfume of the flowers in the trees of the city, the noises, the uncrowded streets, the night light flickering through the branches. Of course, it was a different city I am talking about, but even if I visit the same place this entire picture is not there, I have tried and I know. This way, being at a distance, I can bask in the lie that all the nice urban feelings from the past are still out there.

I found myself wondering yesterday how are younger people perceiving the streets and cities they walk on and live in. All that matters is the age, and the busy robotic cities of today look different in the eyes of younger people, or nobody cares, nobody has their sensitivity open to the beauty of daily places?

The unaesthetic streets of today that mean nothing to me are full of meaning for youngsters, or they just don't notice such outdated details, and they are all about the mp3-s sounding in their ears, their phones, their overcrowded social relations, electronic and face to face?

I miss the poetical misfits, who didn't look for adrenaline rush in bad habits, and preferred to gather around some coffee or wine, smoke and talk about their random questions on life. Now the gatherings are planned and not a moment must be left unorganized, the coffee is bad for the organism, the cigarettes are unhealthy...
And the conversations revolve around politics, and jobs, and eco this and bio that, or just grownup talk, children, education, banks, all in a serious, head-achy way.

Oh, and the former good for nothing misfits, to see some of them so different and solemn, almost not remembering the way they used to look at life, with high hopes, with mysterious hopes that something great is going to come, and that if not, they would just keep protesting to all that is bad in their parents generations...

There was a witty reply in a movie "I was so worried not to become my mom, that I didn't notice I am turning into my dad". the sad thing is that we are becoming a bit of both, and not in the good way. We are becoming the old, the rival of the next generation, and we haven't even got the chance to fully live our childhood.

Playing house just got upgraded to playing family, playing job, and we have acted so intensely that the leading personality is now the play one.

So, where are the may evenings with the intense linden flowers smell, almost materializing on the streets like a dense fog? All I missed then was a soul mate to share the magic with, and I never even remotely imagined that today, having who to share all that with, I will discover that it 's all just in my memories now...