I am one with Bucharest and it reflects me in all my pain and all my joy.
Bucharest is holding me gently at times, as a mother holding her child, as an afternoon in October holding me in its soft sunlight. Bucharest radiates, in all its glory and all its colour, just like I radiate when I celebrate.
Bucharest hits me in the stomach sometimes , kicks me so I fall. Bucharest sometimes takes my breath away, so I can not sleep because of worry and anxiety. Yes , Bucharest is, in its extremes, as I, a woman, 2015. Yes, Bucharest is, in its grey zones too, like me, in my everyday life when nothing happens, when I shop ‘ branza ‘ from the market, covrigi at the corner store and mineral water at the supermarket.
Bucharest is me and I am one with Bucharest.