||[Sep. 3rd, 2008|08:01 pm]
Анушка вече е купила олиото...
life went on. people changed. days went by. many things in my life when i have been in severe emotional misery, i've thought about a road through the fields. it's a specific road, i even have taken a picture of it, and must find it somewhere. it's leading from my grandma's village, to another village 10kms away. it's a country rode. no asphalt, no pavement. plain earth and grass. mountains on both sides, beautiful fields, a river. and silence. freedom. loneliness.|
and loneliness in this sense is never a bad thing. you may say "i'm lonely", or "i am lost and alone in this world", but that's completely false. you're with someone very precious and special. who's always with you. who suffers your mistakes, and cherishes your successes more than anybody else. and if you do not appreciate this person enough, you're bound to feel lonely and lost.
and no matter what happens, and no matter what situations you get yourself into, and what plots you develop in your life.... the country road will always be there. and i will walk on it, some time in the future again, by myself, through forests, and rivers, and mountains, and beautiful fields, smelling and sounding of grass, and earth, and grasshoppers, and birds. and all current issues will be away, and behind, and nothing will bother me. nothing will endanger me. and nothing will stop me from getting where i want to.
and days went by. and people changed. and life went on. and roads of many kinds were spread in front of me. highways, stairs, pavements, sidewalks. thousands and thousands of kilometers. different buildings, different foods. different sights. different sounds, different languages. and they changed in front of my eyes, as the earth turned around further and further.
and i stopped home. one day, with a suitcase containing my life, i came back to a deserted appartment, into an old panel block of flats, with a view towards the mountain, and walls full of childhood memories. and that was to be my permanent address, and that was to be the city i live in and work in. and that was my country, ancient and beautiful, full of mountains and lakes, and roads, and beaches, and beautiful people.
and then fogs came down, and turned my life into a surreal dream, where i was a protagonist in a novel, and story lines developed in front of me, anticlimaxes followed climaxes, and i felt hopeless, as i didn't know the plot, but kep reading and reading, and observing, hoping to have it come around in my favour.
and it did.
and life went on. and days went by. and people changed. and the road through the fields remained unchanged, waiting for my feet to step on it further again.