My Blueberry Nights

Finally it did happen. The expected unexpected: I fell off my bike. This is not clumsiness. I think this is a way Amsterdam wants me to know that I'm accepted. My initiation ceremony took place here at the corner. I was coming home from work and before turning left, I was looking around in six directions at the same time - as I usually do - to be sure I can cross the road safely. But there was one thing I forgot to check. Yes, the most fearful and sneakiest one of all, I heard so much about. The tramway rails. The slippery tramway rails.

Exploiting the lack of attention, my front wheel just slipped into a tram rail as if it had longed for this encounter for a long time and it resulted me lying on the ground (for 10 seconds) and having a distant, quiet scream from the audience of the street. Don't feel sorry for me. I wasn't really hurt and actually I'm kind of proud of this accident. What is more, I have this movie-like feeling that since then one more piece got into its place in the puzzle of my life.

Why not? If such an impact can cause people to lose memory, why wouldn't it be possible for me to experience something like that after a crash landing? Yes, since then I'm enjoying the perfect peacefulness inside - I promised myself I won't use the word 'perfect' again, so this is the last time. Some people say such thing as perfection doesn't exist. In my world only imperfect things are perfect, but let's keep this word for other times. - Peacefulness that includes the hope for tomorrow.

This is the feeling that makes me go running every day, (also playing with the idea of The Marathon seriously), it makes me write in English for you while listening to the new roadmovie session, and the most unbelievable: I'm thinking of what to read next... (Suggestions are warmly welcome :).

If some might say that the day I was writing down these lines was the first day of spring in Amsterdam, I will say that it was also a conclusion of my fall, which also took care of my winter gloves creating a decent hole on it. The scar on my palm feels ok. High Five, Amsterdam!

Comments

Krimhilda said…
:D na most jutottam oda, hogy elolvassam:) már értem azt a biciklit:) tényleg nem fáj semmid (már)?:) vigyázz magadra nő!:)
April 11, 2008 at 5:08 PM
Kriszti said…
Na, most mar gyanitom, vegleg A`damer lettel. Nem csalodtam benned. :D, vartam mar, hogy valami ilyesmit posztolj.
April 14, 2008 at 12:47 PM
Anonymous said…
úúúú debééna vagy :D
zoli
April 14, 2008 at 12:55 PM
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