Debussy on the Subway

As I was listening to Claire de lune on my way to the Clinic, I was observing my entourage. Morning in Budapest. Subway. Mass transportation.

Numb people. Faceless stories, life of the masses. Children, women and men who are trying to get to their duty, forced to be side by side on some noisy train, heading towards their destination. Every one trying to “survive” the ride. Some are reading, some are listening to music or whatsoever on their headphones, some are just blinking in the nothingness.

As I was listening to Claire de lune on my way to the Clinic I was observing my entourage. Morning in Budapest. Subway. Mass transportation.

My vision blurred, but my mind was clear.

Awake people. Faces with stories behind, individual lives forced in a mass. Who will ever know these stories? Who will ever not judge about the crowd? About this morning of routine? Who will ever question the individuality of the masses?

I read once that people on public transportation seem like deprived, depressed, often misinterpreted, because this is a natural reaction to the closeness of strangers. But that’s not the necessarily the case. We are just protecting ourselves.

That’s why they looked numb to me. But these faceless stories have souls. These individuals have lives. Lives to carry on.

As I was listening to Claire de lune on my way to the Clinic, I was observing myself. I felt numb. I felt faceless. I had no story. Can you feel the numbness? Or the absence of the feeling gives you the impression of the anesthesia?

As I was wondering, I arrived to my destination. I left the subway, but the questions remained. For another routine morning. For another faceless ride.


As I was traveling on the clouds of Worakls, I realized that many times I was in somebody else’s story. How did I get there? What am I doing here, participating and noding my head peacefully while somebody else is writing my story? The wrong story. With lies and fake promises.

Dear stranger, thinking that you are a master manipulator and everything is working out as you planned is nothing but also one of your cheap lies. These strangers are cheap people, and you deserve nothing, but each other.

As I was traveling on the clouds of Worakls, I realized that the next decision is slowly showing itself. From this amorphous fluid is contouring something touchable, something sustainable…

Is this what I want? Is this where I am going? I don’t know yet, because I am still on the surface… On the surface of the fluid, swimming, trying not to drown. Because to go the deeper, I will have to hold my breath…To write this story, I will have to go deeper inside. But it will be my story now.

Recently discovered this song and I think the video made for this song is perfectly reflecting it.

As I was first listening to it, I felt instant calmness, somehow it gave me the stillness which I feel, when everything is calm around me.

Watching the video only empowered this feeling… Somehow, if it exists, I can imagine heaven like this. Light and stillness, warm and calmness. It is not a place for me, but a state. A state of mind, a state of soul? Who knows? For me… Going inside, wondering around the maze, in the depth of it… What will I find? What will I feel? What will it be like?

As I listen to this song, I can feel that the closure is getting near… I can almost touch it… This light…Inside…Heaven.


How to live a simple life?

Lewis Carroll in his novel, the famous Alice’s adventures in Wonderland writes:

“If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn’t be. And what it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?”

Yesterday I saw as a title of an advertisement “…to live a simple life”… and I wondered, how is it? How is the simple life? And how to live it? Do you want a simple life? Or let’s keep it complicated?

If you had a world of your own, how would it be? If your life could be as you want it to be, how would it be?

Where to begin? I don’t even know…How would the world be? Where would you be in it? Where would you live? Somewhere warm or somewhere cold? At the sea or up high in the sky? At the countryside or in the urban jungle? Would you live in a cozy house or huge palace? Skyscraper or wooden bungalow? What would be the furniture like? Classic wood, modern metal? Minimalism in the blooming or baroque at its finest? Would you want a big penthouse, a castle or a whole building? Or would you feel safe in a small home, maybe no need of walls? Would it be filled with light or you prefer the darkness? Shades of grey or colorful bliss? Be one with the nature? Live outside, under a tree?

In this life of yours , tell me, who would you be? Would you be young or would you be wise? Would you be an adult or maybe stay as a child? Would you be a girl or would you be a guy? Male or female? Would you rather be gender neutral? Trans? Straight or would you like to experiment the same sex sex? Gay? Bisexual? Or no sex, at all?

Would you like to work or just have hobbies? Travel the world or stay at home? Paint or write or do some crafts? Would you cook or rather fine dine? Would you party or just in the head? Conversations or no words at all? Friends, enemies to make it whole? A big family or rather on your own?

Do you want a partner in this life? Soulmate or something physical? Hot or smart? Maybe both? To satisfy your needs or no need at all? Maybe looks doesn’t matter? Maybe what’s inside that counts. Intellectual or dreamer? Who would first die?

Tell me, stranger, what would it be like? If you could choose, without restriction, what would your world be like?

Nonsense like in the novel?

Or would you feel it with sense?

Could you fill it with sense?

Question(s) mark(ed).