maybe, maybe not

it's amazing how our perceptions of things change. something that meant the world to you can now be completely mundane, just like something you don't give a second thought to now can sometime in the future be the reason for a life-altering decision. why is this so? why can't we ever really say that this is something that will never change, no matter what -- i will, indeed, always be passionate about collecting stamps and that will always be so.


until it's not. isn't it annoying that you can't be sure even of your own needs and desires?


you change so your view of the world and what you want it to encompass change as well; i suppose this is only natural. where that change in you comes from, well, that's completely another matter. but this flux of interests and focus points also creates a continuous state of uncertainty; you can never be sure. of course there are things that remain static, things we carry with us throughout our lives; it's not even that rare. but the truth is that even in the case of those we cannot know, never; we can just go with the assumption.


sometimes you hit, sometimes you miss. you don't know until you get there.

awesomeness

do you know the feeling when you're running and it's kind of dark and miserable and cold and windy -- and you just don't want to stop?  the feeling which makes you really remember how absolutely magnificent it is that you can do what you're doing and how very grateful it makes you to have that ability? the feeling when you realize that the even rhythm of your feet hitting the gravel is probably one of the best sounds in the world?


i do.

i suppose

there's so many things in this world that you are supposed to (and not supposed to) do. the rules and standards set by not only the society we live in but also by the people and conditions we are surrounded with all place their own assumptions and starting points. trying to live up to these, and especially the bar you set for yourself according to them, i think, is one of the crafters of the so-called reality that sometimes smacks you in the face. you know, that moment when you feel like you have gone wrong somewhere and you start to question what the hell are you actually doing in the situation you have got yourself into to, and why did you get there.

of course one could say not to care about these external, societal or otherwise learnt codes of conduct; but that's not really how it works; you can't exist outside your own framework. things we do define what we are -- but why do we do the things we do?

why does anybody do anything? what's the incentive? i don't believe in pure altruism; therefore i think we always do things because we think we have to or because we think we want to. one way or another, there is always something in it for you -- even a charity worker is driven by the pleasure he or she gets out from helping someone else. but there are times when the expectation of what you are supposed to do or how you are supposed to be blurs your vision so that it  misleads you into thinking that you are doing what you need to or what you want to, when in the actual fact you are doing neither.

and that is a problematic spot to be in. for in order for you to get out from it you first have to realize you're in it; and for you to realize you're in it, you have to understand that you were never supposed to be anything at all. 

keep the streets empty for me

one of the best things about running very early is that you get the city all to yourself. minus the few random people you come across every now and then, the streets are pretty much empty, which gives the opportunity to experience the normally crowded public spaces in a whole new way -- alone.


running across the empty charles bridge in prague in a summer morning has to be one of the most beautiful experiences i have had through morning runs; close may come sunrise in kensington gardens in london or the empty banks of danube in budapest. running in places where you during the day  couldn't -- city centers, popular routes, tourist attractions, that kind of things -- gives a very particular feeling; it is almost as if that place, so well-known to people and used by so many, exists then only for you. it also gives you a possibility to create a much more deeper relationship with that location; and when you for some reason or another visit it during the day, when it's dressed in its normal layer of people and action, you know that it is not all there is and you almost feel a sense of mutual secret.

and just like that

6.20 am, rain, wind 12 m/s, +5°C


soundtrack


talking about the beauty of misery.