What is the point of… ?

Yesterday evening, on the way home, in the metro, I was writing on the phone a post with what I did in London. In German. And it felt very good writing it. But when I got home and I did some basic chores, I started talking on Skype with mom and dad and they asked me how it was and I started telling them… and then, I was too tired to continue it and it made not so much fun to remember and to write it down.

Then, today, on the road home, after being somewhat rejected, I tried as much as I could to ignore the feeling of hopelessness and then, after I saw the beautiful Christmas tree at Namesti Miru, I remembered my plan to write about the London journey in German. And it already started to create itself in my mind and I tried to stop it because I wanted to keep the special feeling for when I was getting home, in my comfort zone, after eating, washing etc.

But there is no more comfort zone at home. There is a gap somewhere, between what I wish, what I need and what I can actually get, for now. There is a gap between what I plan to do and what I really do when I get home. I even started to feel very depressed with the thought of spending the holidays here alone. But I keep thinking positive.

They say one should love herself/himself enough to put stop to a relationship or environment that has no more potential to develop you. I somewhat believe in it, but I don’t know if it comes from laziness, from fear of change or from loving others more than I love myself, that I don’t do anything and I only hope that things will improve by themselves. If there is no more potential to develop me, it may be that I have all the potential in the world to develop them.

Still, I really wish to find a woman who finds herself looking into the mirror just 1 second after she felt rejected and likes what she sees without starting to attract all sort of bad thoughts to destroy her self-esteem. They say there are times when we cry just because we were strong for too long…

Nonetheless, what I loved the most about London? When I saw a squirrel on the fence of Regent’s Park eating a waffle, so shamelessly. And when I saw the two dads, each with one kid, a boy and a girl, pushing them to swing, while speaking spanish. The boy’s name was Lucas…

But the most amazing part was when a very handsome Taurus guy, after almost one hour of piano recital, while raining outside, offered to teach me to play. He was very good at playing it and he was also very patient at teaching it. And seeing that I was barely able to play 10 notes correctly, because my fingers didn’t have the necessary flexibility, it really made me feel very stupid, as if I lost so many years of my life on a completely wrong track.

Why? Simply because the most important people of my life didn’t have enough time to care about MY development. Even the dream of having a helicopter, it’s not even mine, it’s my dad’s. And the idea of getting married and having kids it’s my mom’s… and my musical keyboard stays alone over the dresser of my previous room in Bucharest, which is now rented to someone else, and I’m not able to bring it here.

For one moment now, I even start to envy the people who had the destiny to live happily in the same house/city all of their lives.

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One thought on “What is the point of… ?

  1. Pingback: The prophecy of the pink umbrella and “12:46″ | My ivory tower

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