born again

Funny how one can look forward to changes like moving to another country, and trying to start another life there. You don't even know a thing, and yet you can nurture so many half-thoughts, hopes and wishes. Wonder about the new streets you'll walk, the people you'll meet, the language, the daily life and all the little details. Awaiting to see the sun when you wake up and suddenly realize that you're thousand of miles away from where you used to live for long long years.
Somehow it's like being pregnant and planning everything for your baby, for Little You, who is yet a totally different person with an own view on life. And you'll become only more and more different to each other as the years go by. Yet in a miraculous way you'll always stay part of each other. You never stop seeing your hopes and dreams in that person or in that place.

my name - my life

My Mom named me Attila and I inherited János from my Dad's father. As in a "good" patriarchal family or society rather, János became my first name, while Attila the middle one. So I wouldn't really listen to Attila at all. Still I am using it now and then, for instance on official documents. I also like to use it because it makes me feel like this way I respect my Mom who always cared about me. While my Dad never gave a damn about me. Though his father died in a Nazi hard labor camp, so János reminds me not only about him but everything there is to remember. When I was young I often thought about using Attila instead if I'd move somewehere else to make it more like a completely new life. But I have grown very much to my first name during all these years. More than that I got to like it, just like my personality and all that comes with it.

losing all the lights

fiery lust in the half-lit gloom
a sudden rush to the other room
there to turn real fire to dust
then to save embers of the lust

at the door there's a sudden buzz
to sign an imminent fear of loss
but nobody's to hit in the dark
and you're left alone with no spark

Dreamscapes

Places just like time, don't exist. That is, not outside our heads. They have no names, unless we give them one. They are drifting away lonely in the universe. Until one of us comes along. Perhaps as a traveler, and marvels at their beauty or tries to settle down there and make it a better place, at least.

That's why dreams about places I've been to or lived at, sometimes for many years, and even those about the very place where I grew up, seem so full of mysteries. Thus the places become completely different to how I might remember them.

And when I see these places in reality... Well, I can only wonder what made me feel so touched about them, or even become interested in seeing them again. At some places even the buildings don't stand anymore. I don't know what's worse; when there's another building there that doesn't have the slightest resemblance to what stood at its place before, or when it's just an empty plot.

That's the reason why I prefer dreams of rooms, and corridors from my life. In real life I didn't even feel like going up to the floor in the block house where I'd grown up, when I was there after a long long time. However in dreams I wander around in these places with a strange mixture of intimidation and curiousity. Never wanting to stop exploring another place; my mind - that makes it all work.

Public transportation and office musings.

One morning on my way to work I wondered while waiting at the red light to cross the road which was more controversial; the man standing next to me in a nice suit and poking his nose with full liberty and thoroughness, or the top management of the company who constantly lose their reliability by contradicting themselves with whatever they say and then they say the total opposite of it the next day, hour, minute.
I realized that it was none of them. Both of them were only human.

déjà rêvé (I've seen this dream before)

I have these re-occuring dreams. Sometimes I don't even know they are of such kind because I don't remember them in the morning more than once. Some I can recognize by now when I wake from them in the middle of the night. But there was something new a few days ago. I had two different kind of dreams that triggered a memory in me and so I realized that I saw them before, and many times actually.

In one I was going, moving up some stairs or escalators which grow incredibly long and had to get trhough some kind of check/control at their end. But as usual I found a shortcut and slid down some other way. In this dream I got out to some sunny mountain top and had to climb back up in the snow in a narrow chute. Then saw the others coming down in a safer way from the inside. Where I should cross was not so secure, and I can't recall if I made it or not.
What matters was that it later made me remember that I had many dreams before with these tunnels, endless escalators, chutes, tunnels, sometimes underground trains, or boats going in there. And me trying to find my way, and usually a shorter escape from the seemingly neverending situation.

In the other dream I was just left behind by the family/friends in a cosy house. I was not small, and not afraid, but lonely in a comfy way. Wanted to turn on the radio and had to reach up to the top of the door frame. Then remembered that I had to go outside and switch on something there, too. When I was done and was going back through a little hallway, I felt like turning back for something. As I opened the door again, I could see the sun going down behind some trees, and the fog descending. Though it was a nice scene with the lights and feeling to it, there was also somewhat strange to it. Just before I closed the door, I looked back and saw a (I think) girl sitting on a little chair. As I discovered her she fell of the chair, and I hurried there to help her up, but she was already sitting again telling me she was fine maybe only with her posture. I drew another chair next to her.
I don't know how it ended if it had more to it, anyhow there was just some spooky feeling about it all.
Right after that in a dream that followed we were coming in and out of a house to the veranda and stairs in front of it. Always forgetting something, or in need to take in this or that from the rain that started suddenly. The strange thing was that it felt like there were different people all the time coming and going around me. Well, I didn't write it down then, so can't tell what else happened.

However also these two dreams triggered memories about similar ones where I was, for some reason, on a balcony, terrace or on the way into or out from a house, usually on stairs. It happened to me before quite a few times that when I wake up I remembered that I had such a dream in way like 'oh, it's from that series again, then I might be in that mood probably'. But I don't think it was ever like this, that this or that kind of dream made me realize I had them before like in a déjà vu. Who knows maybe I just had them a long time ago.

washed away

I'm home with a flue, and trying to help my system by drinking hot tea, coco, soup, and sweating a lot, using up lots of tissues and so on, and so on. What I could do most of the time is sleeping with my head and eyes rather heavy and following gravity's law.
However in this wonderful block house it's not always easy to achieve what one wishes to do. Not even such a simple thing as sleeping or relaxing. The gipsy couple upstairs who's been renting the place for about 3 years now and have successfully managed to leak our bathroom ceiling for at least 30 times always on the same side above the bathtub, last time a couple of weeks ago, this morning have accomplished their tantric mission and leaked our kitchen ceiling in addition.
I guess it all has to do with cosmic balance and probably some broken pipes they and the owner - whom we've tried to reach absolutely in vain, or when we could speak with him he refused to help anyhow - don't give a damn about.
The case has already been taken to the court as even the repainted ceiling could not handle the water coming down again and again, and now as they say, only the holy spirit holds it there. So after a few years desperate hoping that the upstairs would get the fuck out of there and some reasonably civilized folks would move in instead, we'd tried to reach some more manifestable results. But hey what the heck, even with all the insurance company papers, photos and the caretaker as witness, the holy court could come up with a wonderful decision as a solution and obliged the upstairs to paint our bathroom. Since they were able to show up a piece of paper that said the pipe had been fixed by a proper plumber.
Now, now, maybe it was only the materials this professional, this true expert used that were not resistant enough to time's iron teeth or only the bitch - as we used to refer to her since she hit my Mom on the face when she asked her to hold her kid back a bit so we don't need to listen to his elephant herd-like gallopping for hours - maybe only she forgets to stop the water or put the washing machine duct (which in many places is still not fed back into the wall as easiest solution) into the sink or the tub, but simply let it loose on the floor if she feels like that...
But this new achievement of theirs was revolutionary and reached its goal if they wanted to be called by the owner. Because that's how it happened, we called the caretaker who came up looked at the leakings, even she went mad about it, followed my Mom to the office of the house representative - to witness the statement was true - who then called the owner who then called the gentle folks upstairs, who in turn went over to the office and on their way back called our buzzer to ask what the problem was... It's too bad I only have a dreamcatcher above my bed, not a fuckercatcher
Unfortunately now if we don't want to get both our kitchen and bathroom ceilings get leaked regularly, have no other choice as to go to court again, specially as the insurance company might not pay after a while for all the damages in case they're re-occuring and we who suffer them don't seem to try to find a solution to stop them. Hah! what a sense of justice once again!
Additionally we were advised to go to the mayor's office to report them/this whatever, and maybe even call the tax authority to find out if the owner pays tax after his income from the upstairs couple whom he rents out the place to. We've been through this once, and I can tell you with this effort we can go to the church and lit a candle - btw who's the patron of broken water pipes? - or simply hold a seance and summon Poseidon whatsoever.
Have a holistic weekend. Amen.
P.S. Hmm this all started when I watched that Soviet movie Stalker again where you can always hear and very often see the water dropping... Shall I work as a medium at seances?

The war between parallel universes

As a kid I used to scare myself by making real grim faces in front of the bathroom mirror. Sometimes my features became so unfamiliar and strange that I thought a demon was looking back at me.
We had a top-to-toe mirror at the end of the hallway. Now and then I walked up to it pretending it was not me reflected in there. And at times it seemed true, it looked like there was another person in there whom I could turn away from, and he would stay there looking after me. 
At Grandma's place there was a huge standing tryptich mirror with the two sides slightly turning in. I used to play, maybe not for hours, but definitely quite long in front of it. The tain was broken or uneven in it, so if I was standing in a certain position I could completely disappear. And then I pretended not to be there at all.

Public transportation musings

Another nice weekend starts. I remembered they'd announced on the train that it would stop on Friday afternoon around five o'clock - after all that's the time when most people want to get home from work - and they would run buses instead throughout the weekend so the rails could maintained.
So... when I got off the tram at the end station where I'm supposed to change to the train - a few minutes walk - I asked a man who was coming from the direction of the train stop if the train had already stopped going. He said yes, so I turned back and walked for 10 minutes or so to get to the bus stop where I could catch the one that takes me home. Now, I saw all kind of buses coming and leaving in a few minutes time except for that.
So... I went into the nearby public transportation control office or something where I was told they had not been informed about the train stopping whatsoever, but if so then yes, the bus would leave from that stop.
Well now I started to walk back to the train stop keeping an eye on the buses coming. I was half way or so when I caught glance of a bus with a sign referring to the above named train line obviously empty. I was too far to catch it, but turned back anyhow in hope I can reach the next one with a determined intention to get home.
When I got back to the stop - there are a few rather busy roads and tramlines in between with or without traffic lights - there was another bus coming with the well desired sign and it slowed down and turned into the stop, but would not stop or open the doors but instead it left... while I and the man I met a while back coming from the train stop, were both wildly waving towards the front of the bus where we suspected a human being with a functioning brain who made this wonderful vehicle move along with now tracks whatsoever.
I gave a sign to the man to say I couldn't understand why we were left off, but I could also notice the bus was completely empty, carrying the sign of the train we couldn't ride though - God only knows why. We also exchanged our fears and hopes with this fellow wannabe passenger, and I enlighted him with the knowledge of yet another such a bus running with no passengers to be seen on board.
Hence we made our way back to the train stop with the silent hope in our heart that we can finally get home. When we got there we found out that the last train was supposed to leave within 20 minutes or so. However I overheard a man talking on his mobile who mentioned a mysterious announcement made on the loudspeakers at this stop according to which we should not wait any longer for the train after all.
This information confirmed by our fellow public wanderer and the sight of the empty buses running supposedly instead of the train but not stopping to take on passengers caused even more confusion in my already well washed brain on this pleasant Friday afternoon. But as they say hope dies last, so we turned back and took our walk towards the by now well known bus stop. Where we could finally watch a completely full bus stopping with no chance to get on it.
I got on the next one though and was thinking no wonder these people look all frustrated or as if they could kill anyone around them when they pay about the tenth of their monthly salaries (in most cases, if we don't take statistics but instead real average wages, it costs even more) for a monthly public transportation ticket. Alternatively they pay even more as a fee in case they don't have a valid ticket and have to endure the most violent and humiliating treatment from the so-called controllers.

Moral: I found a rather good black beer in the bus stop where I was waiting. A kind they don't sell in the shop by the train stop where I get off. At the bus stop where I got off they don't sell anything. Except lives.

The ghost of a long-forgotten blog

I had these dreams right after the day I'd remembered that once I was writing a blog.
I was by the sea with long and narrow paths going out into it in a half circle with buildings on them like the Brighton pear. Especially one of them with a big dome on top reminded me of this long ago visit to that cozy town on the shore. Only after I woke up, of course.
 In my dream I was surprised though realizing where I was walking, and maybe even wondered why. Or that came also only when I left the dream world. However I am reading a book on Atlantis. So, who knows what led where. My way there led closer to the water. And even though when I first caught sight of that place it was busy with people running around like ants at broad daylight, by the time I got near the huge complexes it was all abandoned and all dark.

It was not only the gap in time that made me feel like I was missing something. As I wanted to cross this great hall topped with the cupola a door blocked my way. And literally I stood there understanding that I couldn't open it though there was no lock on it. Probably to make sure that I understood it in the language of dreams that it was but a symbol. Of what? ...being afraid to simply go through yet another phase, to make another decision? Or someone making it look more than it is.
Soon there was a woman coming that way who looked surprised at me and at the same time through me, as if she was only sensing the presence of someone else without seeing me. And indeed as soon as she pushed the gate, it gave in so easily, and as she passed through I followed her.

I found myself outside and after a sudden turn by the wall there was but a tiny walk-way hardly enough for one man following the building with the waves coming right at it on the other side. And as I turned back and tried to find my way to another route going higher it was already sunny again, and kids playing on that elevation reaching out into the sea. I could feel then that I was a child myself, too, and followed them trying to climb higher and higher on a playground.
It was very beautiful to see the big water at daylight just as it was mysterious and a bit scary by night. In a strange way while I was following the others in their game, and constant ascent, I was always left behind. But not as a slow and uncertain kid, more like I was not really there, only remembering it all.

Then I was in a room with another child. The lights were on, so I guess it was night time again. We played with something, and was also awaiting someone to arrive. Like a parent, for instance. But when we heard steps and some small noise we felt uneasy though not scared. It did feel strange. We became quite sure somebody was with us, but we couldn't see that person. Then by chance when walking in front of the miarror I glanced at him/her. I was not afraid though it felt rather strange, but I could accept it somehow. After I turned to see who was reflected and couldn't find anyone where s/he should stand, and looked back in the mirror there was nobody there either. Now I saw a pet or toy from the corner of my eye, but before I could focus it was gone, and finally there was only a handful of glass weight with something in it. And when I reached out to touch it, my hand went through. Suddenly I understood it was my way back through that door - I met my ghost. And I woke up.

Oh no, not again...

I had a bad déja-vu the other day. I already knew this happened before or at least recognized the feeling. I started to wonder if it had to do with the situation. Right then I realized it was the same thing, or almost exactly. I mean understanding a déja-vu can be even more overwhelming than experiencing it, though it's hard to explain.
The other thing was with the two books I've been reading for a few weeks now. Though they're about completely different things, as for the stories, the essence - practically writing itself - is the same. And it came out so sharply, almost demanding, in the parts where I got to recently, in both books, it was a shock.

There was also a part in one of the books which I prefer now, where the hero - who's actually a poet - sees his main character in a mirror. Then later he reads about what if such a character would see the writer... My déja-vu felt a bit like that.

 

Today I had a déja-vu again with the very same person who "caused" this a few days ago, too, maybe only by coming close to me, and asking me about something that then pulled the trigger. Even though I had a vaguely uncomfortable feeling before that, suddenly appearing and then growing inside me. Only couldn't decide what was it about. And there's something about this person that I really can't stand, though I just think of it as something that is "his" problem, and makes him act like that.

 

Public transportation #10 Bus stop musings #4 Automatic

This memory stayed with me from the still very hot October days. Maybe it only took me being late so I caught a new bus on my daily route. It had buttons to open the doors unlike the old ones running there. I didn't notice it, though, but learned it, and learned it well. This is the story how it happened. 
When I saw that there were a lot of people getting on through the door I was standing by, rushed over to the other one. Which by then closed, so ran back to the first one which also closed in front of me.
Then I gestured and shouted towards the front, hoping the driver would notice it. He did and opened the door. I got up, and mumbled something about this, while still listening to music with earphones. The driver wouldn't start though, and I mumbled some more about not getting to work on time. Then a passanger next to me gestured to make me unplug my mp3 player. He said the driver only wanted me to know I only had to push the button on the door to open it. I said great but he also didn't need to let them close on my face.

That was the big mistake, as then both the driver and this passanger started to tell me the doors close automatically, so we have to hurry to get on, or push the button again. The passanger added "comprende?" Guess, because my dark hair was held back and I wore black sunglasses. All that and my inability to comprehend what they've been trying to tell me could easily make him mistaken me for a foreigner.
I have to admit I did feel foreign, specially when he added I'd accused the driver with something he didn't do... I said alright, go on then with it, but I rather put back my earplugs and keep on listening to music instead, comprende? Next day another driver with the same kind of bus kept the doors open for minutes after all the passengers waiting in the stop got on, right until it left. And so it was the following day and every day ever since. Never seen the same driver again though.

Public transportation #9 Underground #5 Tickets please

The whole day started in bit of an aggressive way. For instance when I tried to take the escalator down to the underground train it was slightly impossible to get through the 5-10 ticket inspectors surrounding a group of 5 (potential) passangers right at the top of the escalator (their usual place).
We used to have those bars that would open once you validated your ticket, and you could go through, for decades. But when democracy hit our country they had to go. Another false illusion of freedom, I might add here.

So now, even if you have a valid monthly ticket, you might still not catch your train just because the poor ticket controllers have to do their work. And they wouldn't ask those they have problems with to step aside. Or maybe those wouldn't move. Maybe they're right about it.
The only thing I ask is let me use my frigging ticket, and get to work on time once I left home in time. On a second thought, probably that's what those people asked, too.

Public transportation #8 Tram stop musing

One night seen two guys hanging from the back of the tram going the other way. I didn't have time to fish out my mobile and take a pic of them. Mostly because I got so astonished, and stood there just staring, half smiling. What surprised me even more, I guess, was that I didn't see anyone else even looking at them when I looked around to see the others' reaction. It's a bit like you don't see people much staring up into the skies anymore, either...

Public transportation #7 Underground #4 (sh)it happens

One day last week tried my luck to sit down on a crowded train when someone stood up. Unfortunately as I was leaning against the door (not the sliding one) I managed to get my bag strap caught by the handle. So by the time I freed myself, though it didn't take more than a few seconds, the seat was taken. Then I hurried, or rather pushed my way, over to another place that had just got empty, and took it. At the very same moment a strong, sour, unpleasant smell made me about to throw up. Next to me where someone had also just left, was an assful of puddle... something of a yellowish brown color. I was about to get up again, but someone suddenly sat there, and covered out the smell, too. Then it was too late to warn.