Three days before the Start
(Saturday, June 28th, 2014)
Good morning dearest readers! It is a very beautiful rainy day here… The summer was never been like this before. I’ve been on this planet for so many years, but until now I don’t recall this country having so many rainy days at the end of June. Well… this life is amazing… never stops to surprise us in so many different ways.
In my previous post, I mentioned that there was a hidden reason for wanting to quit my job. The reason is in fact not so complicated. It is because of love, but a love which I have never met before.
In fact, if I am thinking well, Love was always been my reason for writing. Sometimes it was the general love for people that prompted me to write whatever I thought would bring them delight. Other times it was a love for a boy or a man, in which case I was writing with hopes that one day that particular person would somehow read what I had to say; of course I was expecting them to be impressed by whatever genius things I wanted to express in those moments on paper.
And in case that you are wondering where my writings went, well… they were deleted, erased, thrown away each time exactly one week after the moment of their creation; and this, for the only reason that being the eternal falling-in-love type… each new love only lasted about one week.
I’ve been a writer since I was a little child. My first writing attempt happened when I was four years old. Yes, you read it well; I was four years old. At that time, I had no idea how to write, not even one tinny letter. My attempt to write to the boy whom I loved at that moment (he was my co-kindergarten friend), was rudimentary but very creative. It probably was exactly like a caveman wanting to express his love.
Therefore, for the historical record, my mom reminded me many years ago about the attempt in writing for my love. When she told me this, I realized I had been born a natural genius.
One day she found me on a free standing closet, a very high one and because of its height, I had to lie down on top of it not having enough space to stand. I was painting the ceiling in my bedroom and this for the only reason that the walls were already painted with portraits of my so-called love; me and that kindergarten boy who was supposed to be my eternal passion.
I have no idea what he looked like, I never had a photo with that little boy, but for sure, I remember that my brain was planning to do lots of things during our life-time together. Of course, this meant eating candies together, eventually ice cream if he would be a good little boy, and keeping him near me so I can beat him well whenever he would not listen to what I had to say.
But to come back to my first writing attempt, according to my mom’s recollection, I succeeded to express my love on all four walls of my bedroom and after I painted only a small portion of the ceiling with those incredible portraits and self-portraits, I got busted.
Don’t ask me please how I succeeded to climb on that high free standing closet because I have no idea and my mom said that there was not a sign of chairs or tables near that furniture. So I probably again used my genius side. Or maybe Tarzan the Ape man (do you remember Johnny Weissmuller?) was one of my ancestors. In his movies, he always succeeded to climb the highest trees without having any stairs.
So, according to my private theory – if someone on this planet can do anything, this means I can do it also – probably using the same principle I wanted to prove that my Tarzan ancestor was not better than me. In fact, if am thinking well, Tarzan had Romanian roots so it is possible for him to be my relative.
Oh, did I forget to mention this part? I was born in Romania, a country that gave to the world many subjects to write about; like the famous Dracula. He is probably also my relative, so watch out for me! You can never know what aspects of myself I will bring to the surface.
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