A day off work, to get the twitching in my eye checked,
as a nerve on the lower eye lid of the left eye kept unnerving me for couple of weeks now.
Was it the the confidence incited by my eyes deciphering, and coping with the sophisticated zoom-ins and zoom-outs built into the machinery? Or the rather relaxed demeanor of the ophthalmologist in saying, “Well, twitching? That’s ‘nervous’. It happens to some people, and will go off!”, I do not know.
I don’t experience the twitching anymore. Nope. It indeed was temporary. My eyes are just fine. No spectacles required!
On the way back, I yanked a nasty, fugitive plan I’d out of my head, dumped it into the garbage bin, spat on it, and climbed The Tallest Ulm Munster, all the ~160 meters instead. 768 Stufen that is!
A mere 160 meters height had all the mesmerizing view,
eliciting an entirely different point of view.
The flawless row houses, glass windows at the top for sun to stream in.
Hotels with roof top restaurant to indulge, and dine in.
The untiring Donau,
and the tiring déjà vu of “Am I here now?”
I stood there at the top, perhaps testing my eyes yet again, to see how far could they see, this time, I’d no clue what I was looking at. Or is that the whole point of standing at high point? For the dumb, and dumber in me to try and feel like he’s trying to spot the mark he made, or aiming to make on this eternal universe?
Well, if only was it that easy.
I look around, and there is love everywhere:
In the glittering eyes of the teen pair, her head resting on his shoulder, and I wonder is it the song on their phone they are lost in, or in the intimate touch.
In the lightest of the moment the Turkish girl threw herself into the arms of that funky dude, who held her like he would never let her down, ever.
In the kiss the tattooed lovers greeted each other with, after hell knows how long, burning the worldly necessity that kept them away right between their lips.
In the luckiest of the rings decorating the pair about to wed.
And in the moments when I’m lost,
staring at these sights like an absolute jerk,
baffled by the conundrum: “Oh dear, Will you ever find true love?“
It has been 3 years since I started writing this blog. My blog is not the best among any categories. It is not hosting wonderful poetry. You do not find eloquent discussions on politics or nation building here. I do not write very technical, “How do I hack ethically” sort of jargon. I just rattle my keyboard every time a weird, pointless, “nobody gives a damn” sort of thought comes to my mind, and I share it with my very special companion, WordPress.
Writing here has been a hobby I pursued successfully, and persistently and I will, I can tell with confidence, continue for a very long time into my future.
Writing here has always been like talking to a person, who listens to anything and everything I say, patiently, and persistently. I wouldn’t mind if I don’t hear anything back. My blog has not attracted many visitors or active readers, yet I pour out my thoughts, and it feels good.
Writing here has been relaxing and it gave me confidence that I’m capable of sticking to a hobby for a long long time, and that I won’t give up on myself that I cannot write. Writing here has convinced me that it can be profoundly expressive. Writing here made me appreciate the amazing gift some people have in expressing themselves, or someone else’s thoughts like nobody else could. Not even the very person who felt that feeling.
I may no reach anywhere with my writing. I wouldn’t mind that anyway!