I have been most disrespectful for the past few weeks, even months.
Not a single post for such a long time, and my readers just starve
through this dry summer without balatony writings! Yeah it's probably
not a big scarcity but here is the post you have been waiting for such a
long time.
Summer is almost gone, my job is almost
done here in sunny Fonyód. As september approaches, life looks hazy and
unsure again. I have a little journal to collect my thoughts somewhere
and an old typewriter. to complete the hipster image. Anyhow, these
lines were written just to prove that I haven't given up on this writing
mission of mine.
Truth be told I should be taking this mission a bit more serious. Or any mission. After finishing Hesses's Steppenwolfe lately,
I had to realize I'm the same damn coyote from the book. The guy who
pretends to know everything and loaths society, whereas he doesn't even
differ a bit from the ones he hates. So, as I identified myself once
again as a suffering character of a novel, something rang the bell. What
if I just start caring? It's so fucking easy to step up for yourself,
for your dreams! And faith is the only thing needed.
As
I was chatting with dad (those summer evenings with a wine on the
terrace) once, he said that life is in the East. And making your dreams
come true won't work in the West. What he said is a really simple idea:
the Western world got competetive as hell, talented people race for
positions, talented people win while many lose. But little Peter, he
said, you just don't have that plus motivation to compete with others.
You have the talent to bloom, to fly- but only free. And your hands are
bound in Europe, he said.
Is that it? Am I really that
spontaneous bastard popping up in a random Eastern country and forging
his own luck? I guess we'll find out soon enough. At least now it isn't a
woman influencing me to make the right (wrong) move.
So hey Istanbul! I'm coming once more.
