I must admit that I haven’t spent much time with this blog lately. The main reason was that I needed time to get rid of all the parts of my life that was obsolete, and to make place for the new. And find a new place for myself, too. This is what has happened, finally, just 4 days ago, when I moved to my new place. It is a big change in every sense: after 10 years, I’m back in the world of rented rooms, shared kitchens and the excitement every month if I can pay the rent.
Funny that I don’t feel it as bad as that may sound. Yesterday, an old friend of mine has just appeared out of nowhere, at least with her blog. She has just moved to Australia, and she wrote this:
Well, I feel a little bit similar. Except that it is not SF, not even Sydney, Australia, but the good old bitch Budapest. And I don’t know where the bouncing will end. The last half year saw many of my old plans and projects going down the drain. My marriage, for one. My plans to go and perform on Cyprus for the summer. My „unshakable” belief that I found the people and the community where I belong. Okay, the last one may still be true.
It really does exist after all. I don’t know what I’m feeling. I feel like those colourful little bouncy balls in that Sony Bravia commercial, happily bouncing down the street of San Francisco.
However, so many things are over now, and I feel that I’m ready to say good-bye to them. Welcome change. Welcome Pesterzsébet.
(The picture is from here)
On the one hand, I feel that I compromised one of my basic convictions when I moved back to the Pest side of the Danube. On the other hand, I feel that even this is better than stay inthe same old, comfortable nothing where I spent the last half year, or more. It’s a funny coincidence that now I live in almost the same block of flats where 12 years ago two of the most important people of my life had lived. They lived here only half a year after we met, but one of the most intense half years of my life. Who knows what comes now.
This morning I woke up that the Sun was shining into my face through the window. Something that could not happen in any of my homes for years.