Puzzled

There's a thing I don't like about puzzles (besides that I suck in it). No matter how you solve the actual picture, it will be the same. Always. And once you have finished it, well it's finished. You can start it again but the results will be the same.

And this is why relationships are not like a puzzle. Exactly the same piece of puzzle fits with someone but does not with the other. You just can't start with the face if you don't know the background. And let's be honest, in most of the cases we don't even know what the whole picture will be. So where to start?

There are at least a million piece of puzzle laying pell-mell around me. As I'm starting to solve it I'm realizing that I'm making the same good old mistakes again in the hope that this is going to be different. Well, it might be or might not. But as long as I put together those pieces with the trust that it will be successful I believe there's a chance for this pic.

Picture by beyondtheskies

Unfair

IT'S JUST NOT FAIR! NOR IS IT COOL! Not at all...

Photo from here by Pitrisek

Negligible, but..

Fall struck without caution branches broke, heavy rain fall sieged the sides of the houses and the wind blew like the "s-es" in this sentence.
Usually I would try to make some general conclusion derived from yesterday's sudden storm but hell not today!
After all the despairing futile attempts finally a tiny, almost invisible, I would say negligible glint of hope hurried to pull me out of this temporary lockdown. And GGod I needed this so much.
Just like the automn needs to define her being here.

Photo: Can't you hear my storm coming by sara85eg

Cure

Clearly I remember that day. Shattered by the past few weeks of misery I stayed at home at did all the stuff I needed.
An early capuchino on the balcony, watching as the city (that does sleep!) awakens and as the fog slowly retreats to give place the ever weakening sunshine of fall. I did freeze but the hot cup in the hands gave me some warm. I stared from nothing to nowhere . My head was empty.
Then I took a bath and shaved - as if I could remove all the bad feelings which were at this point were still out of my head. I knew that sooner or later I would have to tackle them I was just not in the mood yet.
After setting right a few packs of paper I just let it go. Ideas, maybes, perhapses, facts and fiction, erases and rewinds, thoughts, past and future, feature and abscence charged my mind and I let them to embarass and torture me all day.
I would lie if I told you that I was over it by the next day but it did help. It was enough to sweeten the next morning's capuchino...

Photo: To wish impossible things by wries

"For Whom the Bell Tolls"

is not me anymore. As school more or less finished September signs not the beginning of a new semester but of a new era. Call it the era of work, maturity, or the era of the self-made, a significant period closes upon leaving school.

Photo: I'm a high school lover by neprelucrat

Crossword(s)

It took only one word in my daily crossword to embed a song into my mind. The following days were spent with singing this every single moment. At breakfeast, at noon, during an intimate talk and while watching the news. Then I woke up one day and the song was gone. I tried to croon it but it was just not the same.
There are some things in our lives which we want to be the same forever.
If these things happen to change buy a crossword!

Photo: Old crosswords by TaBuTTaRoVaSaTa

Isn't it ironic?

And there stood I under the scorching sun of June and asked her: "What the hell drove you to become a person you are now?"
Years have passed and her answer echoed in me quite a few times though I never gave any significance to it.
And then one night under the spicy sky of late July someone asked me: "What the hell drove you to become a teacher?"
I don't know - I answered.

Photo: Beautiful Irony by Proseuche

"What is the song that gives you the most?"

My flatmate asked this question a few weeks ago. My reply was a knee jerking reaction: Amargo Amanecer by Tomatito. It took me another few weeks to start thinking about my answer. Why? What is so special about this song? Although I knew the reason, it was hard to admit.
If the online translator were right the title means "Bitter Dawn". What I really admire in this song is the energy it carries all over the 4:55 minutes. From the very beginning there is a temptation which inspires me. The returning and at the same time ever-accompaning guitar prepares the ground for the blast that happens at 3:24 but this strong spill of energies do not stop and when the sounds of the violins -for only 3 seconds- scramble in, I go crazy.
Though the reason that this song gives me the most is the particular memory I connect to the peak of it. It raises the question whether your favourite song defies you or not. I guess it is.

April showers

Come, come April showers!
Flush out the toxins of the drak night,
Bring the flowers
Of a new life,
And flush me away!

I want to swim with the stream,
Awake from this dream,
Stop hearing the silent scream
That scorches me under my skin.

Come, come April showers!
This winter has been so long...



Photo: Dream big and don't give up by Lola Graven

Seconds of Sorrow in Spring

3 days ago I entered into a relegation zone. All I could think about is the past and how much I want it back. It’s not that I don’t like the present... These annoying little bits and bots kept me awake at midnight. Is it possible to get it back? Not just a part of it but the whole. The light hearted summer, the culture shock of London, the hug of Holland, the tiredness of France, those lovely palm trees of Valencia and that freezing welcome of Cluj-Napoca.
Is it possible to force one’s past into a box and open it whenever he wants? And will it have the same effect everytime? Is it a sign of something?

Nevertheless I keep myself to this few lines I read:

„If you are out of breath and your enthusiasm slipped away, continue it. Not for yourself nor for life itself. Do it just for fun. And help will come”

*note: help did come on the next day

A sleepy morning

There's a nice, small, busy university buffet not far from the place where I work. It's really nothing. Some stressed out furniture from the Soviet times and a few wooden desks without chairs. The lady behind the bar is the kind of middle aged women, I guess, with two children and a husband. As I said it's a pleasent place.
And their capuchino tastes crap. I think it's partly because the antique coffe machine and partly because I got coffe instead this morning but in the same size as a capuchino. I drank it however my face was bitter than a big box of lemon.
2 minutes later I found myself worringly enthusiatic and was extremely interested basically about everything. I wanted to ask every people on the street;
Where are you from, what are you doing, do you enjoy it, do you like this day, how old are you, do you do sports regularly, where did you buy that, oh I like that place too, what do you think about recent stimulus packs given to economies in order to restart European blood circulation? Who, what, why, how, when and where?

A day starts with a coffe!
Coffe, I llllove you.
Addicted? Definetely.
Care about it?
No.


Photo: Coffe by Liquid Essence

Shaving

Shaving is a ritual.
The whole process begins with the annoying scratch in your mind that it is the point where you can not postpone it anymore. A homeless neanderthal man has a better look than that guy over there in the nirror.
Once you've prepared yourself mentally the next step is to do it phisically. By taking out the shaving foam, the aftershave and the shave itself you armour your soul just like a Spartan women equips her son 'Come home with this shield or upon it' - No turning back now.
For a funny minute even Santa's elves would think that you are their boss. Take the shave, look into the mirror and ask the poetic question one more time: 'Do I really want it?'
After the horrors of one minute or two the aftershave is like a brand new chilly fresh air.
The hair of the past week is removed. A new timing has just begun!

I wish some things could be as easily shaked off as a shaving.

Photo from http://oldmanyellsatcloud.deviantart.com/art/Somehow-Somewhere-77851751 by oldmanyellsatcloud

Shots from January

A hangover.
Bitter cold.
Papers.
More Bitter cold.
Tea on the balcony.
More Papers.
Smell of Coffe sneaking into my bed.
Drizzle.
Colorful things cheering up my room.
Rain.
A pair of blue eyes.
Slippery roads denying any movement.

Győr.
Budapest.
Székesfehérvár.
Friends from Holland.
Nyíregyháza.
Obama.
Fog.

The once favourite music sounding exactly the same but telling a whole different story.


Photo from http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PUU4DwOkFPM

Reloaded

8 o'clock in the morning and the noise of the trash-truck wakes me up. The tea tastes better than the previous weeks. People are walking on the streets. The shops are opened. That ever-angry shopkeeper is looking at me again with a question in her bored eyes: "'Da hell 'ya want?" I feel like jumping around and hug her, smile at her and yell to her face:

"I would like my everyday pastry!!"

The post office is crowded with old people paying their bills. The sound of the copier is buzzing not far from me in the library. I managed to continue my childish game of "borrowing" some printed papers again.

The world phisically started its life once more. And I feel like jumping it around and hug it, smile on it and yell into its face: I'm living!

Mankind is not made for vegetating for such a long time. It is for creativity, for performance and for happiness. And you can only be happy if you feel produtive. It can be a small thing as a homework but never forget that it only depends on you. It's something I have to keep in mind too.

Photo from here by =circle--of--fire