Seeking a Friend for the End of the World

It is unrealistic to think that a woman who's special, and knows she's special, would stick to a single man, at any point in time. In reality one should be happy for meeting such a woman and enjoy her presence and attention for as much as it lasts. Without any regrets when she moves on. Cause at some point and for a while she chose you. Such man has not lived in vain.

One day... one day you shall meet a skinny girl, with light in her eyes and a beautiful mind, and she will smile at you and she will provide you shelter in her heart and company in the mutiny around you. It must happen. You have to believe in this otherwise it's all pointless. That's why we keep on searching for a friend for the end of the world.

Unless you've already met her and point 2 gets replaced by point 1. Thus, you have only the option to be happy from now on.

The metaphor of the world which is about to end is meant to literally strip us of all the useless, comforting things and choices that actually preclude us from living the lives we want, the lives we deserve. Boring jobs, people we don't really like (anymore), being cautious and constantly scared. Settling in complacency. Getting used with a lie. Until it's too late.

The main idea is to get what you need till the end. To die happy, fulfilled, preferably not alone. Doesn't matter (that much) if it was for a few minutes, days, months or years. Of course, the ideal case is to be happy for as long as possible. But the right question is indeed: "is it ever enough?". Rhetorical. Especially if you think about those who never got to feel it.

Another idea is to stop at some point. To call off the search. Cause life stops too, the end of the world, our own world, could come any moment now. There's no need for a universal cataclysm to understand that from your perspective, when you die, the whole world dies with you. Thus at some point in time you need to do it: Try to enjoy what is given, and if more is coming your way, then ok, but if not, then ok as well. Life just happens and you can't just waste all the time you have chasing ghosts...

Scattered thoughts

Love doesn't have to be shared to be eternal...

I have never understood why some women picked me. Never. Even now it is a great wonder. Experience didn't make me wiser and didn't bring any answer to old questions. It just made me realize i should stop asking them...

There are moments when i truly think there is no real feeling left inside of me. That i've drained them all. That's why i hang on memories. That's why i write all these stories...

Reality is better than fantasy i wrote once to someone. A bit later she screamed at me in anger that i was a liar. Knowing how much i've hurt her i've been immediately put to the ground, burdened by guilt and remorse. But i still couldn't feel as a liar. Cause i've been lingering in fantasy my whole life, but i've never been as happy as when it was all real...

Some kids were knocking on doors asking for "something". When i got out of my house, one of them asked me too. I've pretended i didn't understand, then taking advantage of the fact that my neighbor  answered his door i left. I still can't say what kind of stingy feeling stopped me from giving them "something". Especially as i had plenty. Couldn't look into my own eyes ever since...

I fear dying. I fear the mere thought of not being. Still have so many things to do. Still have to find my way, my place, my self...

The doctor said i have a calm heart. That's what his machine said. A series of abrupt waves drawn with ink by a mechanical needle contradict my life-long knowledge that i have a restless heart. While he explained to me that it might be because i am running, and even a reason for being able to run so much, he implies that it would be better if i would check in for a 24 hours survey on my heart rate. Just in case he says... I might die in my sleep, i add...

Wow, you're quite smart they say. And that's not flattering. Because soon after such statement they get scared, they get bored and they leave. They always leave....

I sometimes get a glimpse of what my life could be. Usually long enough to decide that i would like it, that i would be happy. Then, when the wormhole closes back, it's only that voice saying: well, that ain't gonna happen...

A Walk to Remember

For two years in Budapest i haven't been up on Gellert Hill. That day I've decided to go by myself. I was totally abandoned and felt as lonely as that high hill under my steps. While going up i was breathing the city in, seeing from above all those places that i loved, that i didn't wanna leave. Budapest is like a beautiful Hungarian woman you keep on discovering. Danube, her deep blue eyes...

Under the sunset, only my shadow accompanied me back home.

It was a mid autumn day. Cloudy but averagely warm. Pleasant for a walk. She was talking in a funny accent. I was just lost in her smile. Those German style buildings looked like the walls of a raveled maze, leading our steps to an unknown destination. Could have been a trap. But then she grabbed my hand. And in a world of questions and doubts, i was literally holding THE answer...

Window-shopping happiness.

Under the black sky and seen from above Budapest is a fairy. Its lit bridges are a celebration of union. We had a nice dinner up there. And we were smiling though we were both counting days and minutes till i was to be gone. The boy seemed to be resting quietly in my arms. For a while. Then he asked for his mother. While going down the hill i watched her walking proud and confident. Happy. I guess it's true what they say about motherhood. Then we got lost and tired. Took her favorite bridge and the tram home. A short glimpse in the world of what i would like my life to be. While crossing Westend passage i saw the moon over my building. I begged her to stay like that forever. She just smiled and kept going with her own walk...

Graffiti

The only trace of me on somebody's wall says: para para paradise. Could i have asked for more?...

On the desk i was using during the lectures in my university it was written: here we fought heavily against sleep but we were severely defeated. Not being born to be a hero i've stopped attending lectures from the third year...

A graffiti in Bucharest says: 'Look at the sky'. My best friend thinks it's the best wall message that one could possibly read. I guess he gets a bit nostalgic when he looks at the stars as well...

On a bench on Thames's river bank there is a plate with this text: 'everybody needs a place to think!' I haven't seen anyone sitting there...

In Timisoara, in different parts of the city someone wrote on houses walls: 'dear x, it's y, we met in z's pub. I'm in love with you and i can't find you. If you see this desperate message, please tell me how. I'll check everyday'.
There are answers underneath. Can't tell you if they're fake. But i find his attempt funny, honest and romantic. I really hope he succeeded...

I've heard that on a wall in Cairo it is written: Napoleon was here! Apparently beneath stays the answer: No, I wasn't!

In Paris there is a Wall of Love where 'i love you' is written in every language on the planet. A girl sent me a picture of her and that wall a long time ago. It was a nice gesture. Too bad she, like many others, wasn't even able to prove it in her native one...

There was a time when i would have engraved her name on the wall of my skin. A perpetual memory like in Memento. Luckily the end of that movie proved to me that even perpetual memories can be misleading so i've dropped the idea...

Presumably the walls of ancient Rome were filled with graffiti and funny drawings. The graffiti were usual gossips, news or simply cursings addressed to those in power. The cartoons tried to depict the graffiti's message. Protest or resistance or an exercise of humbleness. Who knows? But all Latin historians mention the usage of such popular techniques of sending a message. Rome probably fell when repainted walls remained white...

Sex Time Loneliness

Soon after she came back to Budapest a friend told me she signed up for all sorts of classes and activities. Told her i wasn't aware she has so many hobbies. She told me she doesn't. I just want to keep my self as busy as possible. But why? To forget that i am alone...

They say no one will love you if you don't love yourself. But actually it's the other way around...

A joke said that in case the penis head is cut off nothing will happen to the man to whom the penis belongs because the other head will immediately take over. The main idea of the joke is that actually, once in a while, the little head needs to take over so that the upper head gets some rest. That loss of control, the endorphines released in the brain represent the vacation of the mind factory... No wonder some are so tired lately...

There is a rythm in everything and all must be done in its right time. Once the time has passed there is no point in doing it anymore. It won't matter anymore. It won't cause the same effects. The rightous effects. One does not need to be a lawyer to understand prescription...

I enjoy reading Cioran (especially) or any other author who's thoughts resemble mine. They don't necessarily make me feel better but less lonely.

Sex is a game, my friend, a game. Go out and play. With whom? Don't you need a playmate to make it fun?

Reading to remember? No, reading to forget.

She told him she doesn't like talking about it. That she likes to experience stuff and he should just do what he feels like doing. Imagine his surprise when she started screaming and cursing the moment he stuck slowly a finger in her ass...

I've seen somewhere an old guy saying that in our heads we are all 19 year old. I don't know about that specific age but i believe him to be right about the rest...

I've read that up until he was almost 50, Kant was a virgin. He lived in a small village and had the same daily routine everyday, which included a walk through the village and lots of writing. He never leaved the village and still was able to build a philosophic system of universal proportions. At some point his friends insisted that he visits a brothel and he accepted solely because it was a life experience he lacked and he thought it might help him with his ideas. The experience was obviously short. When he came out he was asked: how was it? He said: the thing itself is rather pleasant. But the movements are preposterous...

Today on LinkedIn a title said: is working a form of procrastination? I guess we all know the answer to this question...