Ieri, pe 26 mai, a fost ziua de na\u015ftere a bunicii mele din partea mamei. N-am apucat s\u0103 scriu despre asta, pentru c\u0103 am fost mai mult pe drumuri, dar o s\u0103 fac asta acum. Pentru c\u0103 o visez din ce \u00een ce mai des pe bunica \u015fi sunt lucruri care se cer spuse.
\nBunica mea din partea mamei e prima bab\u0103 frumoas\u0103 pe care am v\u0103zut-o. O femeie n\u0103scut\u0103 \u00een zodia Gemenilor. Juca naivitatea \u00een alternan\u0163\u0103 cu manipularea \u015fi tandre\u0163ea suprapus\u0103 cu domina\u0163ia \u00een a\u015fa fel \u00eenc\u00e2t, dac\u0103 erai \u00een preajma ei, te supuneai ca teleghidat.
\nEra captivant\u0103.
\n\u00cen fotografii, t\u00e2n\u0103r\u0103, uluitor de frumoas\u0103, cu ochi verzi-alba\u015ftri \u015fi p\u0103r \u015faten \u00eenchis, sem\u0103na cu Vivien Leigh. \u015ei, se spune, \u00een tinere\u0163e avusese o voce splendid\u0103 de c\u00e2ntat \u015fi un uimitor talent de scen\u0103.
\nNumai c\u0103 taic\u0103-su, bou machist cum erau to\u0163i pe vremea aia, decretase c\u0103 fiic\u0103-sa o s\u0103 fie femeie serioas\u0103, nu curv\u0103 artist\u0103, \u015fi c\u0103 o s\u0103 se m\u0103rite. Punct.
\nBunicul meu, om bun, simplu \u015fi cinstit, dar f\u0103r\u0103 prea mult\u0103 imagina\u0163ie, o iubise peste m\u0103sur\u0103. Cu credin\u0163\u0103 \u015fi devotament. Fusese genul care-\u015fi \u0163ine femeia acas\u0103 \u015fi face noaptea zi muncind, ca s\u0103-i fac\u0103 toate voile. \u00cen copil\u0103ria mea, de\u015fi erau doi pensionari, el \u00eenc\u0103 o diviniza t\u0103cut \u015fi fascinat, iar ea \u00eenc\u0103 \u00ee\u015fi consuma frustr\u0103rile de artist\u0103 trimis\u0103 la crati\u0163\u0103. <\/p>\n
Nimeni, nimeni nu m-a umilit \u00een copil\u0103rie, c\u00e2nd \u00eemi scriam primele poezii sinistru de proaste, \u015fi le recitam cutremur\u0103tor de prost, cum a f\u0103cut-o ea. “Vai, ce artist\u0103 e\u015fti, drag\u0103!” “Dar ce, te crezi interesant\u0103?” “Mai bine \u00eenve\u0163i ceva folositor”. Venin pur.
\nIar eu eram r\u0103nit\u0103 \u015fi sufeream.
\nNu aveam \u00een\u0163elepciunea s\u0103 \u00een\u0163eleg c\u0103 era vorba de am\u0103r\u0103ciunea unei rat\u0103ri artistice e\u015fuate \u00eentr-un destin plicticos \u015fi m\u0103runt de nevast\u0103 banal\u0103.
\nAcum o am.
\n\u015ei asta nu schimb\u0103 nimic nici \u00een cruzimea cu care r\u00e2dea de mine, nici \u00een orgoliul r\u0103nit cu care reac\u0163ionam, dar pot s\u0103 \u00een\u0163eleg c\u0103 bullyingul ei venea din probleme mult mai profunde dec\u00e2t simpla ne\u00een\u0163elegere.
\n\u015ei m\u0103 felicit repetat pentru t\u0103ria de a fugi de acas\u0103 s\u0103 urmez cariera artistic\u0103. De fapt, nu m\u0103 felicit pe mine. Cred c\u0103 exist\u0103 un Dumnezeu care m-a salvat de blestemul crati\u0163ei-condamnare pe via\u0163\u0103. \u015ei c\u0103 el mi-a dat t\u0103rie. <\/p>\n
C\u00e2nd eram copil foarte mic, bunica mea splendid de frumoas\u0103 se \u00eengr\u0103\u015fase monstruos. \u015ei st\u0103tea \u00eenchis\u0103 \u00een cas\u0103, “s\u0103 n-o vad\u0103 oamenii”. \u015ei eu m\u0103 \u00eentrebam ca orice S\u0103get\u0103tor care nu d\u0103 doi bani pe aparen\u0163e \u015fi care, dac\u0103 se \u00eengra\u015f\u0103, invit\u0103 publicul s\u0103-i m\u0103n\u00e2nce voluminosul cur dac\u0103 nu-i convine: A\u015fa, \u015fi? <\/p>\n
P\u0103i nu. Nu era a\u015fa, \u015fi. Ea nu era o gospodin\u0103 banal\u0103 gras\u0103. Ea era Vivien Leigh gras\u0103. O ru\u015fine \u015fi o umilin\u0163\u0103 nobil\u0103. Pe care n-am \u015ftiut s\u0103 le respect corespunz\u0103tor. Eram copil mic \u015fi prost \u015fi \u00eenc\u0103 nu procesasem ideea diferen\u0163ei \u00eentre personalitatea oamenilor. Aveam impresia c\u0103 toat\u0103 lumea trebuie s\u0103 fie ca mine. Noroc c\u0103 \u00een adolescen\u0163\u0103 am dep\u0103\u015fit asta. Unii n-o dep\u0103\u015fesc nici la 70 de ani. <\/p>\n
Apoi am crescut. 14 – 15 ani. Trebuie s\u0103 recunosc c\u0103 m-am sim\u0163it \u00eentotdeauna un pic b\u0103ie\u0163el. Probabil asta explic\u0103 \u015fi num\u0103rul impresionant de gay care m-au ales s\u0103 le fiu cel mai apropiat prieten \u00een diverse momente. Dar divaghez. Duminicile m\u0103 trimiteau ai mei la pia\u0163\u0103, s\u0103 cump\u0103r cartofi, ro\u015fii, ardei, castrave\u0163i, etc. Iar eu procedam ca un b\u0103rbat. \u00cent\u00e2i f\u0103ceam un rond rapid s\u0103 compar calit\u0103\u0163i \/ pre\u0163uri, din al doilea rond, cump\u0103ram tot ce-mi trebuia, \u015fi \u00eentr-un sfert de or\u0103 pia\u0163a era gata. Puteam s\u0103 merg acas\u0103, s\u0103 scriu \u015fi s\u0103 creez lumi imaginare \u00een continuare.
\n\u00centre timp, bunica sl\u0103bise. C\u0103p\u0103tase o frumuse\u0163e special\u0103, o inocen\u0163\u0103 copil\u0103reasc\u0103. \u015ei insista s\u0103 vin\u0103 la pia\u0163\u0103 cu mine.
\nUnde f\u0103cea cump\u0103r\u0103turi ca o femeie. Mamelea la infinit legume, se \u00eentindea la pove\u015fti cu toate femeile de pe acolo. Pia\u0163a devenise un chin de o or\u0103 \u015fi jum\u0103tate. Sunt sigur\u0103 c\u0103 orice b\u0103rbat care cite\u015fte asta \u015ftie ce zic.
\nUram asta din to\u0163i r\u0103runchii mei. \u015ei o amenin\u0163am c\u0103 o las s\u0103 mearg\u0103 singur\u0103.
\nAr fi fost imposibil, bine\u00een\u0163eles. Bunica avea probleme cardiace severe \u015fi nu putea fi l\u0103sat\u0103 s\u0103 mearg\u0103 singur\u0103 la pia\u0163\u0103.
\nCeea ce pentru mine era un chin era singura socializare din s\u0103pt\u0103m\u00e2n\u0103 pentru ea.
\nEvident c-o lungea c\u00e2t putea.
\n\u015ei evident c\u0103-mi ura din to\u0163i r\u0103runchii independen\u0163a. Pentru c\u0103 ea nu avusese puterea interioar\u0103 s\u0103-i arate degetul mijlociu boului de taic\u0103-su \u015fi s\u0103 se arunce cu capul \u00eenainte \u00een cariera pe care o dorea.
\nSau poate c\u0103 ea nu era, ca mine, un pic b\u0103ie\u0163el. <\/p>\n
***
\nObiectiv, \u015ftiu c\u0103 eu, \u00een calitatea mea de copil, nu aveam discern\u0103m\u00e2ntul necesar s\u0103-i acord mai mult\u0103 \u00een\u0163elegere. \u015ei c\u0103 ea era adultul \u00een\u0163elept, conform legii fire\u015fti a lucrurilor, ea ar fi trebuit s\u0103 m\u0103 \u00een\u0163eleag\u0103 pe mine.
\nSubiectiv, \u00een\u0163eleg profund sacrificiul inutil \u015fi imbecil al unui destin de artist\u0103. De Vivien Leigh irosit\u0103 la crati\u0163\u0103. \u015ei simt c\u0103 bullyingul ei m-a ajutat cumva s\u0103-mi clarific priorit\u0103\u0163ile.
\n\u015ei regret c\u0103 nu i-am mo\u015ftenit ochii verzi – alba\u015ftri. \u015ei magnetismul cu care-i f\u0103cea pe oameni s-o adore. <\/p>\n
\u00cen foto e Vivien Leigh. Cu bunica nu am poze. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Ieri, pe 26 mai, a fost ziua de na\u015ftere a bunicii mele din partea mamei. N-am apucat s\u0103 scriu despre asta, pentru c\u0103 am...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":10937,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10936","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-spicy"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/05\/vivien.jpg?fit=236%2C342&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10936","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10936"}],"version-history":[{"count":12,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10936\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10949,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10936\/revisions\/10949"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/10937"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10936"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10936"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorenalupu.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10936"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}