{"id":20953,"date":"2015-02-08T12:03:59","date_gmt":"2015-02-08T12:03:59","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/?p=20953"},"modified":"2015-02-08T12:05:31","modified_gmt":"2015-02-08T12:05:31","slug":"cristina-mihaela-barbu-cuvantul-care-loveste","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/2015\/02\/08\/cristina-mihaela-barbu-cuvantul-care-loveste\/","title":{"rendered":"Cristina Mihaela Barbu: Cuv\u00e2ntul care love\u0219te"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: justify;\"><em><a href=\"http:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/Cristina-moihaela-marbu.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-20954\" title=\"Cristina mihaela barbu\" src=\"http:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/Cristina-moihaela-marbu.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"160\" height=\"160\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/Cristina-moihaela-marbu.jpg 160w, https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/Cristina-moihaela-marbu-150x150.jpg 150w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 160px) 100vw, 160px\" \/><\/a>\u201dParadoxul e c\u0103, atunci c\u00e2nd iube\u0219ti p\u00e2n\u0103 c\u00e2nd doare, nu mai exist\u0103 durere, ci doar mai mult\u0103 dragoste\u201d <\/em>Maica Tereza<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">Sunt anumite cuvinte, banale, care trec adeseori pe l\u00e2ng\u0103 sufletul nostru, nu le auzim, nu le b\u0103g\u0103m \u00een seam\u0103, sau le uit\u0103m. Nu ne ating, dar sunt momente \u00een care suntem mai delica\u021bi, mai vulnerabili \u0219i cuvintele comune, oarecare, las\u0103 urme. C\u00e2nd pleac\u0103 din guri str\u0103ine, indiferente, urma nu este ad\u00e2nc\u0103, dar c\u00e2nd pleac\u0103 de pe buzele unui om la care \u021binem, sap\u0103 ca un r\u00e2u \u00eenfoiat de ploi.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">Cuvintele r\u0103nesc, da, ce este nou sub soare? Cuvintele te pun la zid, fac din tine o \u021bint\u0103 \u0219i te ciuruie, \u00ee\u021bi trec dintr-o parte \u00een alta a trupului, prin inim\u0103, prin suflet, sunt gloan\u021be pornite \u00een momente de nervi, de frustrare, de oboseal\u0103, de c\u0103dere. Cel ce le \u00eempu\u0219c\u0103, poate caut\u0103 eliberare, le arunc\u0103 nep\u0103s\u0103tor. Le-am aruncat \u0219i eu, le-am folosit ca pietre \u0219i le-am dat ca pedeaps\u0103. Nu am putut controla oboseala, c\u0103derea, am crezut c\u0103 voi evada din mine, dar c\u0103derea a fost mai abrubt\u0103, oboseala nu a disp\u0103rut, m-am lovit \u00eenainte de toate pe mine. M-am otr\u0103vit. Otrava a r\u0103mas ani \u00een inima mea, m\u0103cin\u00e2ndu-m\u0103, eu, acuz\u00e2ndu-m\u0103 singur\u0103. C\u00e2nd b\u0103iatul meu era mic, avea cam \u0219apte ani \u0219i\u00a0 mult\u0103 energie, se \u00eenv\u00e2rtea ca un titirez, m\u0103 ocolea, m\u0103 lovea \u00een joac\u0103, eu eram obosit\u0103, aveam de lucru, nu puteam s\u0103 m\u0103 concentrez, i-am spus doar un cuv\u00e2nt: \u201dDispari!\u201d. Nu am s\u0103 uit niciodat\u0103 privirea lui nedumerit\u0103, cu lacrimi mirate, cu ochii m\u0103ri\u021bi. Am alergat dup\u0103 el, l-am luat \u00een bra\u021be, m-a iertat, acum c\u00e2teva zile l-am \u00eentrebat dac\u0103 mai \u021bine minte, nu, s-a uitat la mine z\u00e2mbind, uitase. Dar eu nu am uitat. Cuv\u00e2ntul meu a \u021b\u00e2\u0219nit ca o mitralier\u0103, nu l-am putut controla. El a uitat, eu nu. Am pl\u00e2ns o noapte \u00eentreag\u0103 neput\u00e2nd crede c\u0103 am putut rosti a\u0219a glon\u021b, a\u0219a piatr\u0103, a\u0219a ran\u0103. \u0218i acum m\u0103 g\u00e2ndesc la privirea lui de atunci, c\u00e2nd nu este l\u00e2ng\u0103 mine, c\u00e2nd mi-e dor de el, privirea aceea \u00eemi vine prima dat\u0103 \u00een minte. M\u0103 otr\u0103ve\u0219te \u0219i acum. M\u0103 doare \u0219i acum.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">De nenum\u0103rate ori, de-a lungul vie\u021bii am primit cuvinte. Cuvinte frumoase, adev\u0103rate, sau frumoase, dar \u00eempodobite \u00een panglica pref\u0103c\u0103toriei. Dar \u0219i cuvinte care m-au durut. Am iertat, am uitat, sau vreau s\u0103 le uit, m\u0103 rog Dumnezeului meu s\u0103 uit ce am iertat. Am mai spus, nu sunt un bun detector de ipocrizie, cred \u00een oameni, sunt naiv\u0103 \u0219i unii se folosesc de asta. Am desf\u0103cut de nenum\u0103rate ori panglica ce \u00eenf\u0103\u0219ura cuvintele false \u0219i am descoperit adev\u0103rul dureros. Atunci prefer cuvintele care dor, dar sunt sincere. Iubesc adev\u0103rul, iubesc oamenii cinsti\u021bi, iubesc sinceritatea, dar c\u00e2nd trece de un punct, sinceritatea doare \u0219i ea. Sunt femeie, faptul c\u0103 m\u0103 dor cuvintele pe care le primesc nu \u00eenseamn\u0103 c\u0103 sunt slab\u0103, nu, sunt tare prin puterea de a ierta, dar sunt femeie \u0219i \u00een sufletul meu zace o doz\u0103 mare de sensibilitate. \u0218i m-a durut de multe ori sinceritatea, cuvintele sincere care nu au avut hotar.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">Scriu, a\u0219a cum unii scriu poezii de dragoste, eu scriu scrisori de dragoste. Am mult\u0103 dragoste \u00een mine, uneori d\u0103 peste marginea paharului exuberan\u021ba, speran\u021ba, dorin\u021ba de a cunoa\u0219te oameni, de a-i \u00eenconjura cu dragoste, de a-i ocroti, dar d\u0103 peste marginea paharului \u0219i naivitatea. Iau o palm\u0103, primesc un cuv\u00e2nt care doare, se vrea sincer, dar doare, are \u0219i el \u00een spate frustr\u0103ri, oboseal\u0103, duce \u0219i el speran\u021ba eliber\u0103rii \u0219i porne\u0219te de pe buze ca s\u0103geata din arc. R\u0103m\u00e2n eu cu sufletul meu ce se revolt\u0103, se zbate s\u0103 \u00een\u021beleag\u0103, cu ce am gre\u0219it, unde, c\u00e2nd. Da, scriu \u0219i nu vreau lumea la picioarele mele, nu vreau s\u0103 impresionez, s\u0103 cad\u0103 to\u021bi \u00een entuziasm l\u00e2ng\u0103 mine, nu vreau laude de\u0219arte, nu m\u0103 ridic\u0103 nici cu un deget un like, \u00a0dar m\u0103 doboar\u0103 cuvintele ur\u00e2te. Eu scriu ca s\u0103 evadez, ca s\u0103 nu m\u0103 cert cu lumea pe care, uneori nu o \u00een\u021beleg, scriu ca s\u0103 nu m\u0103 eliberez prin cuvinte ur\u00e2te, scriu pentru c\u0103 iubesc via\u021ba, oamenii, literele, cuvintele frumoase. \u0218i accept aprecierea, accept \u0219i critica, accept sinceritatea, dar dac\u0103 sinceritatea m\u0103 fr\u00e2nge, din ea dac\u0103 lacrimi curg, c\u00e2nd lacrima porne\u0219te, nu mai este sinceritate. Este ofens\u0103, este jignire. Simt frustrarea, simt c\u0103derea, simt dorin\u021ba de eliberare din spatele sincerit\u0103\u021bii, dar sunt femeie \u0219i pl\u00e2ng.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">Las oricui posibilitatea de a m\u0103 critica, de a comenta, de a m\u0103 judeca, dar dac\u0103 judecata nu iese \u00een favoarea mea, v\u0103 rog, mai bine da\u021bi cu pietre dec\u00e2t cu cuvinte care dor. Urma pietrelor se duce.<\/p>\n<p align=\"center\"><strong>Cristina Mihaela Barbu<\/strong><\/p>\n<p align=\"center\">\n<blockquote class=\"wp-embedded-content\" data-secret=\"JmWtFPcEBM\"><p><a href=\"https:\/\/cristinabarbu.ro\/celui-care-stie\/cuvantul-care-loveste\/\">Cuv\u00e2ntul care love\u0219te<\/a><\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"wp-embedded-content\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts\" security=\"restricted\" style=\"position: absolute; clip: rect(1px, 1px, 1px, 1px);\" title=\"&#8222;Cuv\u00e2ntul care love\u0219te&#8221; &#8212; Cristina Mihaela Barbu\" src=\"https:\/\/cristinabarbu.ro\/celui-care-stie\/cuvantul-care-loveste\/embed\/#?secret=JmWtFPcEBM\" data-secret=\"JmWtFPcEBM\" width=\"500\" height=\"282\" frameborder=\"0\" marginwidth=\"0\" marginheight=\"0\" scrolling=\"no\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u201dParadoxul e c\u0103, atunci c\u00e2nd iube\u0219ti p\u00e2n\u0103 c\u00e2nd doare, nu mai exist\u0103 durere, ci doar mai mult\u0103 dragoste\u201d Maica Tereza [&#038;hellip<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-20953","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articole","category-linkuri-externe"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20953","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20953"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20953\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20956,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20953\/revisions\/20956"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20953"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20953"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20953"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}