New Era

Only now, when I am sitting in a small studio apartment, which was hosting me for the last two months, and waiting for a car to move my luggage I clearly realize that this is the end. The end of something and the beginning of another, probably, the one called a mature life when you are totally exposed to the elements somewhere very far from home, when all your friends leave the place one by one and the beloved ones keep on being associated with green button on the left bottom side of the Facebook screen. Green buttons that keep you going when you want to break into 10000 pieces, be defeated and live in peace. The green buttons that chase me all my life...

My best friend says I always get what I want, it is just a matter of time. Looking back at my path of the last 3 years I can say he has a point. I wanted a good education, wanted to live and travel in Europe, wanted an interesting and decently paid job, wanted love.I have all of that now. Even more, I have and I have always had people around me who care about me and whom I care about FRANKLY, not just on words and smiles. There were even times when I was feeling absolutely happy, a precious feeling probably because of its short glimpses.

They say, the more you want in life the less you will be happy. When you get all you want, you keep on raising expectations, you get addicted to testing yourself and asking for more, you lose the realization that the peak is no longer reachable, because it is simply fake. You become a gambler, playing with life, something you will never defeat simply because you are temporary and it is not.

And I am right in the middle of this road now, moving forward with the maximum amount of uncertainty and insecurity in life, with a huge missing feeling inside me called KAROT in my mother tongue. And I am simply interested to count my steps, to see how far I can get in this game, as I know I will never win all the stages of it. And I will never stop until I reach a deadend...

The higher you fly the more dangerous it is to fall down. Am I scared?
Fear thou not; for I am with thee...

I am not religious, not at all, but I know there is something very powerful up there. I can't understand it, and probably I do not even want to. But I can feel it wants me to get a lesson, which is very soon to come. Very soon, because my next objectives in life are a bit contradicting each other, so there will be choice, probably the most important one to determine the next detour of my way. And there will be a real sacrifice, a one to live with for the rest of the life.

I do believe, I never change, I simply become more myself. Someone wise said it. And I hope I will not lose or betray my principles of staying humane. It is just a new era for me, where I would need to survive.
Once again.

Time to move on. Happy Easter!

Unfreeze

I lost my only file with the typically naive poetry, which I used to write in my teens. Nothing significant, just another part of childish me is gone. Most probably, it got deleted with other useless items that, I had supposed, were overcrowding my laptop. It is beyond retrieve.

We are used to crumbling the bricks of past to be able to move forward. I never do this on purpose, but it miraculously happens to me quite often. As a consequence, only academic files about business and management live on my hard disk now. They are smartly structured into family-folders, which never get messed up, as before. They are ruled by hierarchy and perfect order. Very similar to my consciousness.

I am crystal clear about what I am doing and for whom: it helps me fight the pressure out of my emotional system and survive. The clock is ticking, the progress is being made. There is an endless race between me and time, because I have no patience and because, among other things, I lost the ability to enjoy the everyday trifles. Those used to be the essence of my routine, as if drinking a very precious wine in the smallest possible sips so that one can admire the bouquet as long as possible. Sophisticated? Not really. 

The days flow through me, as if they are made of a pure liquid and I am a ghost from the indefinite future. 

But every morning I am getting on the yellow train, which takes me from Schiedam Centrum to Den Haag through the milky vapor floating on sleepy fields. It so happens that while I am pressing my cheek against the frozen window glass, the perfect circle of the glim emerges from the horizon, and I catch myself smiling. Slightly, not as a madman, but very much like a naive teen writing poetry at nights. A teen, that learnt a bit of Dutch and can understand some French, but, what is more important, still possesses the secret of translating enormously rich feelings' palette into simple words or melody.

.  

I need my euphoria back.