Discover Top Posts Tagged with #30.10.2015

I hear their screams and know, though I can't see, though I don't want to see, that some of them are already burning. Next to me, a man with blond hair and a beard, an unfamiliar but familiar face, prays to God, begging him that everything happening now is a nightmare. He has his eyes closed and his hands together. Crushed between the bodies, his elbows pressed to his stomach and his head resting on the shoulder blades of the one in front of him, he begs in a trembling voice, "Please, God, it can't be true, please, God, make it not real," then recites "Our Father." The screams of those who did not reach the container cover his prayer. Flames and smoke rush over us, engulfing us. I feel the fire on my skin. It wraps around my back and I reflexively bring my hands to my face. I try to breathe but this is no longer air, but fire. It burns my throat and boils in my chest with its chemical, toxic smell. My thin fingers curl and the flesh on them snaps loudly. The thick plastic rimmed glasses melt in my palms and the burning liquid runs down my blouse. We fall one by one, but we also burn on the ground, in the ashes made by our bodies. The flame engulfed me completely and I feel it on my head, hands, back, destroying me, undressing me. Burn I have no idea if mine is among the dying voices. Let it end, God, let it end once and for all. It hurts, it hurts! The unworldly wail of fire deafens and eats up our screams. I see my mother and sister. I'm sure I'm going to die and my last thought goes to them. I ask their forgiveness for leaving like this, for the immense suffering I will cause them, for, like my father, leaving this world so quickly. I cry without tears, gasping, defeated. Suddenly, a vast, heavy darkness descends upon me. I went blind. The fire devoured my eyes. I died. Perhaps this is how the beyond begins, or perhaps eternity is nothing but a black ocean, without form, without attributes. It's light again. It takes a while for me to understand that I am alive. Beside me, a girl with long hair sways on her feet. The skin on his hands hangs like wings that have given up flight. “Can you help me up?” I automatically ask her in a dead voice. She tries, but when she touches me with her injured arms, she pulls back. "It hurts too much, forgive me, I have no strength," he tells me. Cry. I feel sorry for her and thank her. "There is nothing". I kind of lean on my left palm. I manage to jump to my feet. The floor itself is terribly hot. The air is less and less and in the bewildered people fear grows again. We rush again. The exit is blocked by overlapping, suffering bodies. Screams were replaced by wailing noises. A couple of guys desperate to save themselves push me out of their way and climb on top of me. They fall with me, too. They are heavy, very heavy and crush me. Not even this sick oxygen enters my lungs. "Please, I'm choking", "Please" I whisper to them, but they don't hear. It's getting darker. My chest squeezes and pops under the weight of their bodies. - Alexandra Furnea in the link above

On the night of 30th October 2015 I remember I was studying for a quiz for the operating systems class next day, smoking a cig while a friend/neighbour came sort of panicked telling me that there was an explosion in the old town.

Turns out it was not an explosion, it was a club fire during a (literally) underground metal concert. 65 people died then and during the next months due too the wounds and to improper treatment, including all the members of the band apart from the singer.

Thinking about it, and of the frequency I started going to metal concerts afterwards (especially underground ones), it was fortunate for me that I had only moved to Bucharest 2 months earlier and didn't yet know all the scene.

I just found out that one of the survivors (Alexandra Furnea) wrote a (short) journal about her experience with the ordeal. The concert, the fire, the treatment while hospitalized, the continous treatment afterwards, the psychological effects.

You will need to use the Translate feature of the browser on this, but it is worth reading.

#30.10.2015 #colectiv #jurnalul lui 66 #heavy metal #bucurești #bucharest #romania #goodbye to gravity #alexandra furnea

remember when rbb gave us his number....that was wild

#and i still refuse to delete this number from my phone #i probably never will ;)#also the first picture isn't mine but i don't know who to credit for this so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#rbb #30.10.2015

We are through first half of the time. I see her in about 47 days. I cannot wait. It is the only thing I think about. I want to touch her and feel her and smell her. It is so hard to come home every night to an empty room. I feel like joy has been sucked out of me, I feel like she went and took summer sun with her and I don;t know how to breathe but I do. It’s so hard. Harder than I ever imagined.

Our plans and hopes for the future keep me alive. And when she tells me she loves me, I do not second guess it anymore but god damn this is the most difficult thing I have ever done.

#30.10.2015