So it had/not to come to this point again, and here I go writing a blog again. I don't write it in Norwegian yet, and not in Hungarian either. For both there must be a reason, certainly. Dilemmas most likely, and when you don't solve them, they can grow like thick bush so that they make you feel losing focus, and get lost.
Surely to get here I needed at least these two days in relative peace with a mobile turned off, and only chatting, mailing, talking with friends and family. Then it came to me, after putting down a short story by Neil Gaiman, and trying to have some rest before starting another row of 12-hours night shift.
That means I lost some of it in the slumbering, but it still lives vividly in me as it occured to me in the first moment. I mean the memory that I believed to be the reason to start writing it out of me again. It could have been awaken by another story about another dimension/aspect taking over the one we're living in.
In the story a man discovers that millions of people dying around the world, made the world actually look like the way we see it, and now as they're dying, it's fading out and into something completely different. And only in these few minutes of rest I took, it was that I suddenly remembered a most unearthly experience I had as still a little kid so many years ago.
I was playing with the others in the yard of the kindergarten, running wild, and enjoying to be completely without any responsibilities. The next thing I recall is that I am screaming and crying beyond comfort in the arms of a nanny, yet feeling alien to her, too. I saw everyone around me as aliens, or what I called it then, devils.
Simple as it is, all the people around me - including the nanny holding and trying to comfort me - seemed so strange and unrecognizable to me, beyond any knowledge that would have helped me to express what made me shriek that much. So all I could do was closing my eyes, and keeping them like that. But still when I opened them, I saw the very same, even after several minutes.
That was a long time ago, and of course, during the many years, I learned to tell... Well, maybe not exactly what it was, but what science, and different people might say about it, and how they used to explain it. Sure it still wouldn't leave me alone, but it falls back in that faraway place in the back of my mind, and looks like it's coming back whenever I face changes and decisions.
Story Sample - Clifford D. Simak and Carl Jacobi: The Street That Wasn't There
Surely to get here I needed at least these two days in relative peace with a mobile turned off, and only chatting, mailing, talking with friends and family. Then it came to me, after putting down a short story by Neil Gaiman, and trying to have some rest before starting another row of 12-hours night shift.
That means I lost some of it in the slumbering, but it still lives vividly in me as it occured to me in the first moment. I mean the memory that I believed to be the reason to start writing it out of me again. It could have been awaken by another story about another dimension/aspect taking over the one we're living in.
In the story a man discovers that millions of people dying around the world, made the world actually look like the way we see it, and now as they're dying, it's fading out and into something completely different. And only in these few minutes of rest I took, it was that I suddenly remembered a most unearthly experience I had as still a little kid so many years ago.
I was playing with the others in the yard of the kindergarten, running wild, and enjoying to be completely without any responsibilities. The next thing I recall is that I am screaming and crying beyond comfort in the arms of a nanny, yet feeling alien to her, too. I saw everyone around me as aliens, or what I called it then, devils.
Simple as it is, all the people around me - including the nanny holding and trying to comfort me - seemed so strange and unrecognizable to me, beyond any knowledge that would have helped me to express what made me shriek that much. So all I could do was closing my eyes, and keeping them like that. But still when I opened them, I saw the very same, even after several minutes.
That was a long time ago, and of course, during the many years, I learned to tell... Well, maybe not exactly what it was, but what science, and different people might say about it, and how they used to explain it. Sure it still wouldn't leave me alone, but it falls back in that faraway place in the back of my mind, and looks like it's coming back whenever I face changes and decisions.
Story Sample - Clifford D. Simak and Carl Jacobi: The Street That Wasn't There
Silver Screen - Jens Lien: The Bothersome Man
Song Selection - Michael Brook: Midday
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