Maybe the time has come to write again…

Maybe the time has come to write again…One o’clock past midnight and just a few lights flicker on, somewhere on the edge of the street. A lot happened during my last month, probably to much… It’s hard to write now, ‘cause I struggle to arrange my thoughts… For weeks I wondered between a dream and reality… And maybe I don’t want to wake up soon. The two persons finally met each other. Until now they somehow lived separate lives with everyone’s share of happiness. Probably I thought that a difficult road lies ahead of me, but I jumped into it. I called upon the dreamer, the child woke up. The child, that I only sometimes let to come out on a summer night or nights haunted by loneliness in Kolozsvár. And he erupted as a flaming storm. I got scared…’Cause I head to sit down and look me in the eye and ask the fundamental question. Who really am I? No one recognized me anymore, they saw the person that I was hiding within me. They were frightened too… Now I just sit here wondering who was SHE – child or a woman, angel or demon, a dream or just sheer cold reality. Her flaming kisses still burn my lips and what ever I do I cannot turn them off. Is she playing with me? Probably… Am I playing with her? When I see her yes and I try to be indifferent, but somewhere deep inside the child suffers. I experienced really strange weeks. I fell into a seemingly bottomless pit, I tried to hold on with my hands to emptiness and just kept on falling. But somehow I stopped at a moment, reached out my hands, curved my knees and got up. Who should I live with? This is the question. I put my headphones on my ears and just ride on buses like a shadow, looking at what’s happening around me…. My legs become numb, I look around and see the giggling child, the nostalgic old man, the smile on the bagger’s face… the smile. I see myself. And I feel happy, ‘cause I can see the world. People swarm on the streets and not seemingly lifeless grey shadows… I’m looking for the person. Is this my calling? Maybe. And the other one shows himself, who doesn’t want to see all this, because he knows that probably everything is in vain and maybe shadows roam the streets after all. How simple can we humans be, and sometimes how miserable. Because it’s visible; the lack of affection. A small hug, a kind word or just a faint smile. Why should all of this be missing? Maybe we are afraid, ‘cause we’re not capable to be slightly better than we are, we cannot see the person. I can feel this mostly in my own family. A little bit of affection and understanding and all the troubles go out in the distance. It’s a risky game, I found that out. You can be easily wounded these times, you let down your guard and let others see who you really are. But not everyone sees the person. Many still wonder around blindly on the streets.

Interesting. For the first time in my life I can truly dream. Many have told me that I should try leaving in the world of reality… I can only ask one question upon hearing this… Which world is this? Please someone show me, ‘cause maybe I’m the one who doesn’t see it or I don’t know where to look. Maybe they just forgot how to dream or just are scared of it. And then they shut themselves away, put on their metal masks and happily live their indifferent lives. Do I pursue my dreams or live in reality? Will it be a compromise. Maybe this’ll be the answer but it’s hard to tell now.

My interview within three days. If I’m lucky I could spend a year in the Netherlands with a scholarship. Reasons: to get familiar with foreign legal systems, getting closer to the European spirit, developing my carrier etc. At least this is how it says in my CV. Real motives? Freedom. Being alone in a foreign country, far away from everyone I know. I have to find myself, I have to finally know who I am and what is my purpose in life. Living alone for a while, letting the dreamer come to life. This seems really far away now, but I dare dream and believe in my dreams. Who am I going to be within a year? I cannot say, ‘cause I don’t know the answer and don’t even want to know. The Tuesday 9 o’clock will arrive, the judging committee and the finely dressed eminent student. How will he defend his application? He’ll probably decide then and there and maybe even allow the dreamer to speak for a moment. Two days and three nights still separate me. Who knows who will wake up in the morning?…

Kolozsvár (Cluj-Napoca), 20th of May 2007

 

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