28th of September in my calendar is marked by humble anniversary of departure to Irishland. Another yearly cycle came to close, since getting out from midnight flight from Brussels 9 years ago… Where did the time go? – there’s no way to avoid that question… And as much I wouldn’t like it to be – it is indeed, only rhetorical cliche type of dilemma…

Few years ago, charm of that day ultimately got ruined by acknowledgement of the fact, that my life here does not flow on just one simple timeline. I’m aware that it may not be just the case of “my” life “here”, but that’s the only life I know.
I used to refer to all my “adventures” as to “chapters”. But lately it’s more difficult to distinguish individual ones. From so called at the time “novel”, my life turned in to booklet of aggregated random short stories, or poems… Maybe my current aims, commitments and priorities, shaped mantra chanted far from reasonable judgements – so comfortable back then. Worst case scenario – my life as collection of witty sentences on the wall of public toilet. In fact, lately I’m experiencing renaissance of that form of expression. (more details on that soon)

I am happy here. If you know me in person, forget what I say on daily basis! Somehow, it helps me to accept things I can’t accept otherwise.
Guess what! I’m getting older! Same way as my family and friends all over the world. I’m not so certain however if we are all progressing with life cycle in the same speed. Most of people I left behind seem to get and grow old in other directions than people around me. I’m not so sure how to explain this. Wild guess makes me believe that as they continuously tell me less and less about what their lives, I automatically draw synthesis of projections and by depreciation of admiration I keep on empowering my own foundations, so to say that my own life is so much better…

Confusing thing about leaving people behind is that I will never know what aspects of their life I shall never experience and what is the real value of what I have traded it for. My origin becomes stranger and more difficult to grasp, year after year. Denial kicked in early. Mainly to avoid things I gladly left behind.

Its bizarre how inconsistent I was in terms of my own believes, aims, dogmas in this journey. I would really enjoy conversation/argument with self 5 years ago. Where would I start? What would I have in common? Would I warn myself against anything? But ten, I don’t regret anything. All the bad or wrong things were well deserved and made me as they say – stronger. So many things happened. There was so much to experience. No wonder my hair’s turning grey…

On the day of this anniversary, I can’t come up with anything worth concluding. Life goes on as it used to. Above all its also 10th anniversary of the year prior to my departure :), 12th anniversary of my graduation from high school and 1st of my trip to Kiritimati and so on and so on…
That way, everything is everything depending on the reference point in all that chaos of course.
My past is at the same time is fading away. Disappearing. Important places are being moved or demolished. People change.

Few months ago I looked in to my email archives to find all emails from the last 10 years. Emails strangely are not getting old and there is no way of knowing how irrelevant they might be now. I realised that if there is so little to distinguish, it’s exactly like diving in to the future. Predictable, because once lived already. Still experienced as new, attached to specific emotional reactions. Is there a big gap between spontaneous reaction of the moment and digested awareness of self at given moment? if so, does it exists as past already? I felt desire to rewrite my correspondence in the format of semi-fictional semi-journals and publish them on the blog, but did abandoned the project shortly as idea to let the past go is much stronger. Above all it’s more reasonable according rules of sanity I live by. It might be an idea to get to it in say 40 years from now. Its questionable if it would it be of interest to anyone.

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28th of September in my calendar is marked by humble anniversary of departure to Irishland. Another yearly cycle came to close, since getting out from midnight flight from Brussels 9 years ago... Where did the time go? - there’s no way to avoid that question... And as much I wouldn't like it to be - it is indeed, only rhetorical cliche type of dilemma... Few years ago, charm of that day ultimately got ruined by acknowledgement of the fact, that my life here does not flow on just one simple timeline. I'm aware that it may not be just the case of "my" life "here", but that's the only life I know. I used to refer to all my "adventures" as to “chapters”. But lately it’s more difficult to distinguish individual ones. From so called at the time "novel", my life turned in to booklet of aggregated random short stories, or poems... Maybe my current aims, commitments and priorities, shaped mantra chanted far from reasonable judgements - so comfortable back then. Worst case scenario - my life as collection of witty sentences on the wall of public toilet. In fact, lately I'm experiencing renaissance of that form of expression. (more details on that soon) I am happy here. If you know me in person, forget what I say on daily basis! Somehow, it helps me to accept things I can’t accept otherwise. Guess what! I'm getting older! Same way as my family and friends all over the world. I'm not so certain however if we are all progressing with life cycle in the same speed. Most of people I left behind seem to get and grow old in other directions than people around me. I'm not so sure how to explain this. Wild guess makes me believe that as they continuously tell me less and less about what their lives, I automatically draw synthesis of projections and by depreciation of admiration I keep on empowering my own foundations, so to say that my own life is so much better... Confusing thing about leaving people behind is that I will never know what aspects of their life I shall never experience and what is the real value of what I have traded it for. My origin becomes stranger and more difficult to grasp, year after year. Denial kicked in early. Mainly to avoid things I gladly left behind. Its bizarre how inconsistent I was in terms of my own believes, aims, dogmas in this journey. I would really enjoy conversation/argument with self 5 years ago. Where would I start? What would I have in common? Would I warn myself against anything? But ten, I don’t regret anything. All the bad or wrong things were well deserved and made me as they say - stronger. So many things happened. There was so much to experience. No wonder my hair’s turning grey... On the day of this anniversary, I can’t come up with anything worth concluding. Life goes on as it used to. Above all its also 10th anniversary of the year prior to my departure :), 12th anniversary of my graduation from high school and 1st of my trip to Kiritimati and so on and so on... That way, everything is everything depending on the reference point in all that chaos of course. My past is at the same time is fading away. Disappearing. Important places are being moved or demolished. People change. Few months ago I looked in to my email archives to find all emails from the last 10 years. Emails strangely are not getting old and there is no way of knowing how irrelevant they might be now. I realised that if there is so little to distinguish, it's exactly like diving in to the future. Predictable, because once lived already. Still experienced as new, attached to specific emotional reactions. Is there a big gap between spontaneous reaction of the moment and digested awareness of self at given moment? if so, does it exists as past already? I felt desire to rewrite my correspondence in the format of semi-fictional semi-journals and publish them on the blog, but did abandoned the project shortly as idea to let the past go is much stronger. Above all it's more reasonable according rules of sanity I live by. It might be an idea to get to it in say 40 years from now. Its questionable if it would it be of interest to anyone.