Violent And Young

I’m trying to find words to tell you what I’m getting through. Is it too dangerous to say I’m losing my sense of reality? Do you think I ever had that? The world around me seems to be as elusive as the past memories of a shipwrecked living on a desert island for months. Everything I was completely sure about before, has a question mark at the end now. It gives me the impression of being nowhere and everywhere at the same time, that everything has importance and nothing is important at all. It’s not that I don’t care, I just don’t know how to care about anything anymore.

This is a dangerous situation, I feel this can have very wrong endings. But I know that I already passed those very wrong endings. I’m possessing the freedom to recalculate the route, to be over the speed limit, whatsoever. I hardly think about the consequences, because I never know anymore when I’m doing the right thing. I’m just trying to have some fun.

Every day I wake up as a 16 year old teenager girl and I’m going to bed at the age of 66. This is how I feel. I’m happy I haven’t lost the ability to admire the world: the colourful leaves and smell of the autumn, the nest-swing at Museumplein and the ability to get completely crazy at Iglu and Hartly concert. It reminded me of my first real concert experience when I was 16… This is such a great thing: to get lost in music and forget about everything else. A beautiful compensation for the marathon which was today here in Amsterdam and where I didn’t participate… I’m still under the influence of yesterday’s impact. Was it true or did I just dream it? Whatever it was, I have to admit that music is another hallocinogenic and dangerously addictive substance without which I couldn’t live.

And I won’t tell you about the rest, how these young, beautiful, fucking hot guys brought California sunshine to the small room in Paradiso. You can imagine that, but the real thing is beyond the imagination. You have to go and see them yourself. And I won’t tell you how it is after-partying with them. And I won’t tell you how it was leaving that night behind, running home competing with some random bicycles on the way, then sitting on a bench and suddenly feeling very old, very lost and very lonely. I won’t tell you. Ask the moon.


Comments

Kriszti said…
Én is ugyan ezt érezném, ha ott lettem volna. Utálatos, hogy 1800 km távlatából is érzem, hogy mit érezhetsz de mégis baromi bántó, hogy nem azt érzem. Mert nem voltam ott. Szóval örülök is meg rohadtul irigykedek is.
Ja és én másnap tuti, hogy ott tanyáztam volna egész nap az összes szálloda, kocsma, nevezetesség előtt. Egyszerre. :D
Anonymous said…
1380km "csak", nem 1800 :)))

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