Just A Lil' Bit's Enough

I just got a reason, and just a little bit was enough of the feeling that

something is going better instead of the already notorious negative trend.

I am quarter a century old and learning something completely new, just when I was starting to think that I was running out of possible new experiences. Even the 'never have I ever' started to be boring, I would get drunk so easily on my lack of new firsts. 

But voila! Never have I ever biked. Sunday it was my first time ever getting on a bike, and after half an hour of failed attempts to maintain my balance, despite the lovely encouraging smile and hoorays of my ad hoc teacher, I thought I would never be able to do it. Another half an hour later, I was slightly getting the hang of it and actually pedalling quite shyly. 

Today, second time ever on a bike. Proved once again that I am as selfsufficient as one can possibly be when it comes to learning something. It's like denying myself part of the victory if I ask for someone's help (although at times I should be screaming for it). Why do it differently this time? Some football court square meters, sixty minutes, a million micro heart attacks and two million bruises later, triple the ego, I can actually pride myself with pretty decent biking skills for a newbie.

Saddest or best part of this, or both at once, is that I cannot even remember when was the last time when my motivation and my pride skyrocketted together like this. So I am going to do what I do best, extrapolate, blow everything out of proportion, make a huge deal of a random humdrum act such as biking and infer that things can be going in a good direction once I decide to keep rolling. 

I have to give this blue and purple bike that I am so fullheartedly riding a name. A little bit of blue melancholy, a little bit of purple craziness, what if I just call it Life? Mine.

Anything could happen

I guess we know that's just what humans do.

Crave for a little change and challenge, and get the full package instead. I mean, who would have imagined that only a few days and some hundred km away everything would be so overwhelmingly different?

I have to say, judging by some random sane standards, new does not necessarily mean better. I have the food, a cold house and the bipolar weather (at least) to vouch for that. But different probably does. The people, the paved roads, the lightheartedness, the stupid stoopwafels.

Cheers to the different, right? This time I choose to be not only foolishly but fully in, and whilst letting go of everything ever possible, I will hopefully start getting something in return, whatever that is. I would bet on my own self, who knows when and  to whom that was lost. 

Cheers to the different I said, with a glass of Zinfandel rose while searching for summerly NY flights, just to prove that despite all the rush of change I can still belong, even if in bits and pieces and not rightfully so.

Sensor based heating when indeed so much need to move (on), clean slate, a singing secretary, hundred square meters and a heart to fill, cheap love, a little imaginary (?) mouse for company since pets are not allowed, a blue and purple bike, big windows, innovation, a beer, two beers, three beers...I guess that from now on anything could happen.

(And now I know the truth that anything could happen. And though I think I need you, I guess it does not really matter.)

Extraordinarily Ordinary

Worst thing you could possibly ever do to someone: go ahead and make them believe they're exceptional. Exceptionally good or outstandingly bad. Happened, eeerm, to a friend of mine, to be misled , on and on, in concentric and vicious circles, from trivial to core levels. True story, thus now she's learning stuff the hard way and paying the dues for not knowing how to take in the averageness.

Let's imagine this little bitter story. Say we have a baby girl who happens to walk and talk 'exceptionally well' when 1 year old. While the parents are a bit bummed for not having some gags and stutters to laugh about, they say, damn, we did well, this is a good one, one hell of an exceptional child. Say the girl goes on doing some unusual stuff for her age, drawing, singing, reading, being adorable, conquesting the adults, being first in class and shit. Say she learns from the ones around her she is doing some amazing things, thus she must be exceptional. Also say she starts to learn and value the taste of this outstandingness, to the point where it does not suffice for her to be exceptional on her own, but also by comparison.

Say she goes on and on like that, living her life and making her choices ruled by this god of exception, and that everyone is very happy to feed on that. Say she cries for any less than maximum grade, and suffers for every person she has chosen and does not love her exceptionally. Say she cannot bear to accept minor success, mild pain or mere happiness, because one must be extraordinary, no matter the price. That the only thing she is sure of is that over the top is always better than fair. And that life is only worth living from a certain degree of comparison upwards.

Say that she is just learning the hard way that averageness is an option, even if it is not. And that there are times when you cannot be exceptional...if you are not.