Adventures, or how I lust for them

This past year has been amazing for me, both profesional and social. I have a great job, my life now takes place in a new town, my room mate is one of my best friends from the past, I’ve meet new people and new doors have opened for me. I matured alot over this past year and I learned how to walk without having other people near me to catch me, in case I fall.

This new world gave me strength, I became a new person, I have more courage, and I feel that I’m invulnerable, to the future. But when old friends, crushes or fragments of the past keep getting in my way, I kinda jump from one edge to another. I have great vision, and I plan alot of fun things, but when I am stuck between old and new, I feel like a Monkey who has a hard time deciding wheter or not to eat his own poo.  It’s hard to be myself, because people either know me for who I was before, or who I am know, and when both “me” colide, then run for cover, because a mess will start. I care alot about people from my past, I’m still attached to them in one way or another, but I also care for the image I forged, and how people react to it. And even though changed occured, one thing remains the same, one thing I lust for, since the “begining of time”.

I lust for adventures, epic little moments in my life that make me feel special. A year ago I had all the time I ever wanted to do almost everything I desired, being it a trip to the mountains, with only my backpack, cigars and a tent, or cruise on an wretched old boat. Now I have the possibilities to do all of them, but time is what I’m lacking. I find myself working during the week, going home to eat and sleep so that I can do the same the following days. I spend my weekends at work, not because I’m obliged, but because I like what I’m doing, and yet I feel the need to brake this chain. But how can I?

If I could, I’d hop on a train, with a bag, and go where ever I can. From there, I could go in any direction, or maybe go back to where I left from, on foot, meeting new people on the way, and learning new things. Maybe I will be faced with the possibilitie of defending myself from a wild animal, or saving someone from falling of a cliff. Maybe I’ll meet an old lady and listen to her stories, or feed a puppy on my way. New friendships could be formed, new memories could be forged and more doors to the future could be opened. My personality will surelly be re-shaped and thus I’ll become an evolved me.

Who doesn’t lust for that? I know I do.

 

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In memory of my beloved companion

I finally understand that which can be seen in many drama movies, I finally grasp the feeling that sprouts into one’s heart like a pleague, which spreads just enough to cover a large portion, only to remove it, later on, from your soul. My soul is weary, it’s heavy, I cannot sustain it, and yet I cannot cry under it’s heaviness. I have no words to express it, not enough paint to draw it and not enough will to overcome this feeling. All I can say is that it lies in all of us, waiting for a perfect moment to awaken. All of us feel it at one point, but none of us can get rid of it. In the end, all we can do, is learn to accept it, like a tortoise accepts it’s shell.

I’m scared, during the day I wait in fear for the night to show it’s veiled face. I do not want to sleep, and I try to keep myself busy as much as I can. I work even when I am not at work, and I constantly try to think at something, to observe as many things as possible. I do this because I do not want to risk thinking about it, it’s hard for me to accept it, just like it’s hard for a father to burry his own son. When a beloved one moves away, across the ocean, you cry, you cry because you are an egoist. You cry because you shall lust for their presence. But there is still chance to see that beloved one after months or years. That person still exists, is still able to write an email or pick up the phone. Yet, despite all this means of comunication you still feel sad. But what can you do when those means are no longer useful?

It seems like yesterday I went out to play and I saw him, just across the street, in a yard, belonging to a friend. Right that instant I knew I have found my best friend. I asked the owner if I could play with the little one for a while, and so I did. We bonded, at the very first instant. Like we were meant to meet, and since that day forward, we have been together. Nine years have passed since I first layed eyes on him. Nine years of tender loving care and funny moments. For nine years he was both a listener and a talker. In nine years I learned to love like I never loved before, I learned to care about someone else besides myself. He taught me how to enjoy each and every moment in life, and he was there with me when ever I got sick. We’d share the same bed most of the night (I say that because, when morning came, I always awoke on the floor, while he slept on my pillow), we would sit on the same bench and stare at the same sky. My father loved him, he loved him so much that at one point I thought we switched places. It was funny to see how easily people would get attached to him. My little miracle and the most beloved earthling.

Then again, all miracles have a begining and an end. And when they dissapear, everyone that came in contact with them is more damaged then before. My friend died on 7th of August 2011, at 9:27 o’clock. He died as soon as I left home to return to Bucharest. Even thought he spent most of his life next to me, he died 100 km away from where I was. He died with my parents watching him, unable to help. He was my best friend, but I never thought it will end. When my parents said that he died, I did not feel a tear drop in my eye, but a bullet going through my heart. I cried rivers that night, rivers that merged with those from my father and rest of the family. Rivers that became an ocean which swallowed us all. The flood has stopped for now, but everything around me triggers the feeling of loneliness, a dry feeling. I’m scared to return home, I’m scared to see the places that where once filled with life now standing hollow and empty. I miss him, I miss him with all my heart and soul, I miss him and I know I will never see him again.

He always knew how to grab your attention. If his demands where not meet he would unplug the TV. If he was ignored, he would stand tall, like a human, and scold you in his own language. His eyes, would reach deep into your mind forcing you to see his mistake. He hugged you in sad moments, grabing you with his paws and resting his head on your feet. He’d work beside you in the garden or when doing chores. There was a time when I had to move a barrel, rolling it on the pavement. He got up on two legs and pushed along side me, happy he could assist. When I coded, he would transform into inspiration, always barking the right answer. He was there for me when I’d brake up with someone, he was there with me on my birthdays, he was there with me when I was happy or sad, and yet, I wasn’t there when he departed. All I ever wanted is for him to know he was loved, the most loved of all beings in the entire world, as my dad used to say.

In his memory I write this post, for him I try to move on with my life. It’s incredible how such a little animal can teach you so many things about life, even when he ceased to be among the living. I’ve written this post for you Dolphy, my beloved dog, friend and mentor, and I hope that you are happy where ever you are.