Asking for Permission

I am writing about something honest here, something I have been struggling with the most as I am trying to transition into the world of adulthood.

Asking for permission. This is what I have been taught. At school: if an assignment is not clear, ask your teachers for what you should do. If you want to do something, ask for a permission from your parents. Continue reading “Asking for Permission”

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Chances

We could be best friends, you know. But chance brings us together here, where we cannot meet. Crossing the street in different directions, why would we ever meet? There are a dozen other people crossing the street; I don’t meet any of them after all. Crossing a street is like looking over book covers on a shelf – just glancing over; usually all of them bore me. But there was this moment of eye contact between us. As if that one glance of her, uncovered a whole universe inside of me. I had read that book somewhere, sometime before, and now just by seeing the cover, all of it leapt back into my mind. Is everything that is random truly random, or is there some code that drives the universe? What is the chance of that?

 

The worst part of being a teenager from a middle class family who has one brother, two parents, a pet dog and a group of friends, is invisibility. It’s as if you are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Sometimes I feel like I like confusion, when everything is too good for too long, my mind automatically starts looking to uproot itself from whatever it was doing and start something new. I am… confused.

 

Hiding in crowds, blending in, events happening after events without a trail or a pattern.

 

But in that one instance, it all made sense, just for a split second. And I wanted to latch on to that second for as long as I could, if I had a camera, I would take picture of it and hang it in front of my forehead. If I had a pen and a paper, I would draw it out… but by chance, I didn’t. And even if I did how could I ever draw that feeling out? That moment felt like an eternity, as if my entire 16 years were nothing compared to it.

 

Sometimes I think I should had turned and gone after her. How different would my life be in that case… to experience eternity all the time? But she was just a chance, like a typhoon. And why do I feel like I had known her forever, even though we had never seen each other before?

 

The street is empty again. A group of Chinese tourists taking selfies with their 21st century mobiles and thousand year old statues as their background decorations. A pigeon takes off, the sky is dilapidating.

A cat walks on the zebra lines.

A boy tapping his foot extinguishes the cigarette.

A girl runs after a red balloon that’s flying away.

A pair of lights soars at me, getting bigger and brighter from my left –

 

Oh fuck. I forgot to cross.

I fell of the bike.

I fell of the bike. Think what you want, think I should’ve been more attentive, my parents should’ve come with me the first time I was riding a bike up in the mountains. But I fell, for the first time in the last five years. It was unusual, to get up and touch my chin to find the blood mixed coming from out there. And I realized, I am bleeding.

 

Think what you want, I think I needed to fall. I think the blood reminded me that I still have blood. I hadn’t fallen in such a long time. And I hadn’t ridden a bike in a long time either. This fear of the fall that was almost starting to creep in.

 

I think we should all learn to fall. My dad said about three times in that one evening that the first thing they teach you in any sport is how to fall. Because the scariest moment is when you realize you have nothing else to do – you will fall, but the bicycle is not quite there yet.

 

And that’s when everything feels so fast and so slow at the same time – like a secondary slow motion. And I realized it was happening. Fell from my high horse, onto the ground. I hurt myself. And when Sonia came running to me, I just lay down on my back and looked up at the clouds. I don’t remember the clouds ever looking so embracing. They understood and fixed the moment in their sky morse code. They were the moment lingering after it was over. And I felt like I had been looking at those clouds my whole. Like they would never leave me wherever I was.

 

And in that second, with my bike down, Sonia standing above, me – completely unaware which parts exactly I was bleeding from… In that second, I remember the universe scarcely making sense. It felt like the whole existence of the world could be described in this single ride. And it was all over, but the world was still going on. And I was still alive.

 

When I got up, there was this weird confidence about me. Unlike my smaller times, I didn’t cry. I said I was fine. And I was, it wasn’t just me trying to put a brave face on. I was as fine as I could be. Think what you want, I think we need to fall. I think we need to ride bicycles taller than us and roll on our backs and fronts, then sides… never on the same spot, but we need to fall. To fall for the sake of falling. To fall to then get up, because if you never fall you can never get up. To put the bicycle up, to fall to see our blood and to remember that we are alive.

 

I wouldn’t live a life full of protection. A life where everything is clockwork. This experience made me understand what Fight Club is really about. The blood was a reminder that the narrator is still alive. The motion is the symbol of the narrator falling for the first time. Sometimes when a person is so desperate, all they need is to fall. Not to rise, but fall. Because falling is much better than living in a constant state of fear. Then not riding bicycles and not swimming in lakes. You need to risk, get up from your couch. Remind yourself that you are alive. Go and Fall.

Mleouli

 

Mleouli is a cat who used to be a dog. Long time ago, when the queen was his rightful owner, Mleouli the dog along with his friend Jazza the cat, planned a careful escape. They decided to switch bodies of the king and the queen, to create a pandamonium and chaos in the kindgom and to use this opportunity to leave that horrific palace forever. So they did. They read a thousands of books by hundreds of scientists. They went to the cellar of the kingdom and stole all kinds of chemicals and bolts and springs and all they needed for the machine. In case there was something cellar the damn king didn’t have in the cellar, Mleouli and Jazza would crawl up to the request list late at night when no soul was awake and write their requests with the soft paws. Since you are wondering how could a cat and a dog write, after all none of them have thumbs? Well, I will gladly tell you that our heroes were very courageous and they joined paws, each holding from on eside of the pen, pushing towards the middle. Cats and dogs can write if they set their minds to it, there is nothing unrealistic to that. Continue reading “Mleouli”

When the World is Evaporating

I am walking in the street and it is autumn. I know that, I am certain about that. Something else I know is that my hands are in my pockets and the right part of my scarf is hanging lower than the left part. I know that there is a flock of birds right above my head flying somewhere I-don’t-know. I know that the couple on my right is kissing and that the girl on my left knows they are kissing. I know a lot of things, as you understand. Continue reading “When the World is Evaporating”