MY ONLY PLANET

Drága Barátaim! Összeszedem magam és végre magyarul is írok egy pár sort. A személyre szóló levélírás, mint olyan egyelőre nem szerepel a terveimben. Ez elsősorban heveny kézfájdalmam oka. Amolyan kezdődő ínhüvelygyulladás-félém van, ami válltól az ujjam hegyéig érezteti magát. És ezt nem nagyregényem írása közben szedtem össze, hanem annak jele, hogy keményen megdolgozom a mindennapi betevőért. Különben én már csak röhögök ezen. Murakami könyvének elolvasása óta (What I talk about when I talk about running) tudom, hogy én is azok közé tartozom, akinek akkor lesz teljes az élete, ha a fejfáján az áll majd: writer (and runner). És ezt akkor is így fogom gondolni, ha soha nem futok többet és nem írok le egy betűt sem. Lássuk be, erre azért igen nagy esély van. Mennyit ér egy író futó (vagy egy futó író), aki nem ír és nem fut? Nos, ebben a pillanatban éppen ennyit érek én… Még nem olvastam mást Murakamitól, de ezt a könyvet ilyen címmel egyszerűen nem tudtam a boltban hagyni. A kedvenc r

I’m tired and sleepless. I can hardly eat anything. It’s been like this for a while. I’m leaving promising days behind. Days when the world stopped in front of my door knocking on it constantly. You wanted options – I heard it through the door. You wanted options and you wanted to embrace me. You wanted me to show you who you are. So here I am. If you open the door, I will show who you really are. Blood ran out of my legs. That must be a joke – I thought. These must be those blond children my colleagues were talking about, who walk around the town and ask for candies in exchange for some Dutch songs. I hoped they get tired of waiting and leave soon, but the knocking noise didn’t stop. Then I thought what if the world was really outside waiting for me? Isn’t it what I was longing for? So I pulled myself together and opened the door. There was noone outside. The whole street was empty. I closed the door with a strange feeling. Only when I turned back did I realize that the world

There is a guy. I think he likes me. What’s more, I think I like him, too. I don’t know his name and I don’t know anything about him. I’m very careful no to find out any details about the subject of my admiration. The fact he exists is more than enough for me. We always meet at the same place, at the same time for about a month or more. I can hardly recall the moment I realized I was interested in him. It might be because I always fancy someone. To be honest, I always fancy more than one guy at the same time. It’s nothing serious. It’s more like passing boring moments of life and testing imagination. Of course, everything happens unobtrusively. If anyone started to be suspicious about my secret game, I would immediately stop myself and look for another subject for my thoughts. That is a demanding occupation, though. Why? Handsome guys in Amsterdam are either gay, either married (or having girlfriends). Or both. Unfortunately, in the small proportion of the rest I’m not interested. So t

I decided to stop writing this blog. It’s not that I’m tired of writing, it’s not that I don’t like other people reading what I write. Both of them are pleasant thoughts for me. But I want to change things. I want to change my life and I’m thinking of writing something else. I mean writing something for real. Not sure yet what. But definitely something. I must admit I really like the idea of not writing here anymore. Relieving like anything else that you know you don’t have to do anymore. Just leave everything behind and start something new. As a sort of replacement. The replacements of the ancient prototype, the unattainable idea. Blurred copies of reality. From time to time I like to leave things behind, to make these replacements. What a relief! - I think while I’m already missing the old stuff in a completely strange room full of completely strange people. Fortunately, I never leave the idea and I’ll never leave myself. I’ll always be there to remember… What a relief! I’m wondering