We are defined by our habits. It’s that simple.
I like to engage in a lot of activities. And, even though I tend to keep then disjoint, they all intertwine. Quite nicely at that. Still, I don’t do too much, too many, for too long, at least not more than the average bloke at twenty-three.

Whatever I do, though, I put my whole being into it. All of the passion and angst I can muster, all of the sweat, the tears, the blood.
When I play guitar, I do so with my whole body, and my mind just takes a nap, swept away by the gentle wave of warm reverberations. Sometimes, my hair flies off as my mind travels through all the mistakes I’ve made, as I bash the drop D string as hard and as fast as I can. Sometimes, I’ll just fiddle with a cool, eerie effect that Theo came up with for half an hour, just because I like how it tickles my nipples.

Yes, I sometimes code for 20 hours at a time. I just do that. Doesn’t matter if I get paid or not. If I feel I’m directing a symphony of brackets and semicolons, just let me enjoy the music, the scenery that my dark color scheme provides and let me worry about getting sleep or getting laid when I’m done. There’s always time for that.

I sometimes teach. Doesn’t matter how many attend my course. All I hope for is that someone will take home a little bit of the spark I carry with me. Just like I did, back in college from Cipri Crăciun, Adi Crăciun and Lucian Cucu. I sometimes get lost in the words and the running over from computer to computer, yes, but I do hope that you’ll get the drive to try to solve things. The rest will just follow.

When I bang, I dive in head-first. I do love your skin, your smell, your taste, your neck, your hips, your thighs. And it’s all about you and me. If I’m ready to curl up and melt down together with you, please don’t think you’re fat. Please don’t think I’d rather be with someone else, or somewhere else. You’d just be stupid.

At any point in time, there’s no other place I’d rather be. No other person I’d rather be seeing. No other thing I’d like to do. That would not make sense. You think I’m slaving away at work? No! I’m just doing my best to be better. You think I’m wasting time mowing the lawn? No! I’m just turning it into a sexy dance. You think I’ll always choose her over you? No! How come you got to tell me that over a pint of beer?

You think I’m itching to leave Romania? No! I just hope to learn how to make it better. Not it, but you.

I don’t care who you are, but if you’re reading this, you’ve seen me burn with passion at least once. Whether it was drinking, dancing, sexing, typing, running, laughing, losing, winning, hiking or even sleeping. Doesn’t matter.

Thank you.