abandon me

Imagine life as you know it. Imagine it with all the physical aspects, with all its intelectual and emotional contents.

Imagine your daily life, your daily goals, your 5 year plans and what you consider the meaning of life.

Imagine it in between the walls of your home, the city in you live in, the country in which you are citizen.

Imagine your family, your friends, your pet, your colleagues and all the people, know and unknown, who you met on your way to your destination.

What would you think, if I would tell you that this life doesn’t exists? That is all just a lie, which we all tell ourselves day by day, as our life goes by. It is all just a coincidence or is it really our fate? To live like this? To meet the humans that we meet? To get touched or to get destroyed? By words or by actions? By words not said or actions not made?

Is it worth it? Why? Why not?

I always thought of life as a mass of great opportunities…Even when it didn’t look

that way. I always thought it can get better. It can be different. But I am not different. We are not different. We are all the same.

The same lie, living our ant-life day by day. Lying to ourselves. Lying to others. We celebrate life and for what? Because we will all die? Because we don’t know what will come next? Because we ignore it?

Of course, life is what you make of it. But what do you make of it? Is it the nature consequence of your choices, or is it more to that? Can you change it in any way? Or you roll between the invisible walls which are the layers of the circumstances? The circumstances with you were born with. The circumstances you didn’t choose. The invisible strings that move you. The lies you tell to yourself and others make you hear them. Are you listening? Is it really like you imagined at the beginning of this writing? Is it really like that? Your life? Or it doesn’t exist, like I told you? Is it maybe, after áll… a long, sweet, good old lie?


Whatever remains, however improbable…

Did you ever feel how someone who`s dark and maybe down, resigning life, can embrace you? Without even a touch, only with a look…the embrace of that deep darkness of someone used to be forgotten or ignored or just down? I did… and I still wonder how come it can be so burning, how come in all that exhaustion of life, in all that abandoning, where did that power come? They say that melancholia is a form of painful anaesthesia, the most absurd definition…or is it? In all that absurd continuum of pain…where does that power of holding and embrace come from?

That embrace…that feels more deep than any love declaration or red rose or demostration of affection. It has nothing to prove, it just is. The embrace of darkness…that could sound a bit gothic but is as real as life. Inside all that death and abandonment what is left is given away…to whom could see. Beyond all that life ignoring and lack of meaning, when the answer to the main question seems established, when one simple look from such tired colourless eyes feels like the most haunting and unexplicable love…there the question remains: how is it possible? To feel the embrace of someone else`s dark so warm and also heavy, so unmasked and lacking in glitter, so painfully beautiful in its truth…and yet…it feels this way.

The embrace of such colourless and tired of existence eyes, which see you and see your own dark and yet they not only don`t judge you but they see exactly how you did not want to be seen. Being completely you. That embrace, of someone who doesn`t want life is more full of life than life itself…because it holds you. That embrace that doesn`t want to fix you, like everyone else…

In this world, where everyone is trying to fix everyone and call it love…as if that part of you, or me, that needs to be fixed isn`t still you or me…

And yet, someone`s darkness saw and held me, even the part I hate, even the dark I know and wanted to escape from, even when I thought I was unseen under my white unform, even under that grey that covered my sight.

It was more frightening and real and freeing than I remembered it can be…Because what someone saw and held  under all the walls and prejudices and so called definition of myself, beneath all that, whatever remains, however improbable…was me.


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.



    Have you ever wondered…how many times you said good bye to yourself? To small parts of you which, in time, became maybe uncomfortable or unfitted for who you wanted to be? Parts you quite forgot and abandoning them was ..the natural course in your life. Almost felt like it was never a choice but always normal development, due to a change you wanted, a change into someone…who did you change into and why should you have changed into someone else, someone…better or in any case into someone..more than you were. And why should you have needed to abandon parts of you to be someone better? …maybe an ability, a special way of thinking, a different way of feeling or touching, maybe a weird or uncommon way of letting yourself be touched, a way of open yourself or the way you close, the reasons that made you react in those ways, the way you look into someone`s eyes and the things you could see there. Maybe the way you have felt pleasure or the way you were able to give that back, the way you let yourself…loved or hurt.

Perhaps all of us did that…abandoning ourselves. Why did that come so easy, why can`t we stay to comprehend the change, the choice or …natural ways of changing, the choices, the world we want and what exactly do we leave from our inner space.

Have you ever wondered what exactly do you leave, what part of you is left not fully discovered or seen or touched? It is perhaps easier to abandon something you don`t already know in full, a part that seems too…at hand, too common, too boring or not spectacular enough for the change you need. Did it hurt?…If that gave you what you wanted….why did it hurt, the abandonment, and if it didn`t then, why does it hurt now? Or maybe the hurt, the pain, the fear gave you the feeling that it`s normal, or mature, or entitled you to believe that it is the right way of becoming…who you wanted to be and this gives you freedom to be special. Or maybe you didn`t say …good bye me, because how could we say that to ourselves?

Have you ever…in the most weird moments in your life, felt, in a strange but also somehow known way that the part of yourself you left behind or even abandon is still there? Maybe in a moment of selfdiscovery, or of pain, or when you became tired of… being afraid of what you could see inside yourself. How is it now? How do you see it now, does it make you afraid or free maybe, or does it change everything you thought you knew about you? Does that discovery open yourself to …reveal how much you are? Does it help you or close you more?

Does it worth a chance? The unsaid good bye…? Maybe it is not a happening you didn`t say it, maybe it is.

How does it feel to…feel again a part of yourself you abandon? That someone you are now…how do you see it, can you see it? Can it be…beauty in it or freedom or can you be at least curious about it? It was there all along…you. Maybe hidden or despised or ignored. If you`ve felt it or wondered yourself about it…can you look at it?

Why do we need to abandon us thinking we`ll become more this way?

When you`re with yourself, with all the parts inside, can you say…