Let's go back

Let's go back. Let's get lost again. Let's buy the bus coupons from the mini stands in the middle of the train station. Let's grab our bags and run and catch our bus. Before we have to wait fifteen minutes again. Let's pretend we can actually pronounce "vondellan" and watch as the bicycles roll by. Let's grab a stroopwaffle and go on a long train journey. Let's never grow old. Let's grow old together. Let me wash some grapes, while you do whatever you do. Seedless. Let's run down to the river and count baby ducklings. Remember to bring the loaf of bread. Let's sit on the train, and wait for the announcer to say the journey is delayed yet again because of objects on the train tracks (identity of objects never to be revealed). Let's go back. Let's go back before it's too late. Before, everything changes. Even as I write this, I know some things are too late. Oh, but let's still go back. Let's do all the things we said we should do but never did. Let's make a fool of ourselves. In the only ways we know how. Let's go back. Let's go back and fall in love.

Grateful

It's a little ironic. The person I want to seem most impressive to, well, he doesn't require me to do a thing at all to be impressed.

A Little Lonely

I feel sad that most of the people whose blogs I read no longer write.

Nothing Compares 2 You

My favourite song of the moment is Sinead O' Connor's "Nothing Compares 2 U". I don't know why but it reminded me of Bratislava. When we were there, everything was foggy. It was as if we were walking in mist. There were no attractions. Everything was closed. They had this funny exhibition on the street, cows after cows after cows. I laughed. We decided to try the local speciality - dumplings of some kind. There was no one in the bar. The bar was beautiful. I can't remember how it looked like, but I remembered it had many portraits... of beautiful blue, sea-blue, I think the people in the paintings were underwater, swimming with fishes. Slowly, everything becomes a blur. We see pictures, but they don't seem real. As my memories disappear, the only real thing I have is you.

A Quiet Reflection

Boat Quay at Night

Europe

I would really like to travel Europe. Go back to one of the cities I've visited and through my feelings in that city, figure out the changes that have happened within me. Or, really, I just miss the quiet-ness of it. How in certain monuments, it feels like, i'm living on the edge of history. I don't quite exist, only one figure, in a street that has seen and experienced centuries of figures. It's wonderful. As if the shackles of being human and living one full life is overthrown, if just for a moment, and one is just a simple pleasure-seeking, beauty-loving and sun-kissing breath of life.

I do actually have enough money to make my own pilgrimage to Europe. Still, I can't quite make myself spend it. I'll just let my dreams intensify. For these dreams are also part of the experience.

Happiness

Happiness is one of those words that evokes different feelings in people - perhaps, intrinsically, because different things makes us happy, or perhaps, circumstantially, it all depends on how we are feeling at that moment. I think there are also moments in which we do not know how we feel. Where it is neither happiness nor sadness, it is not nothing-ness, it is a feeling unplaced in any continuum. Kind of like being on a train, that wistful feeling, looking outside, watching houses, trees and random pieces of sky, roll by. Maybe if I sit longer, one more stop, two more stop, I'll figure out a destination. Maybe if I keep moving, regardless of aim, I will bump into something beautiful. This, in its own little funny and lost way, is the pursuit of happiness.