Yesterday I helped execute a lovely surprise for a friend of mine.
One of my classmates here, the only male schoolmate of mine from London who is in Bratislava with me, has a girlfriend who also is a classmate of ours from Rosie B. About three weeks ago she contacted me, and kindly asked me to help her organise a surprise visit to her boyfriend, who shares the Bratislavan flat with me. I found the idea extremely exciting, and together we deviously plotted this grand surprise; she booked her flights (and took care not to fly in straight from her local airport), and I concocted a masterful lie that would help get my friend up to the Bratislava airport on the evening of his girlfriend´s arrival.
Early this week I finally told this white lie to my friend: A disabled friend of mine from Denmark was coming to visit me, as something awful had come up in his personal affairs, and he had asked to stay the weekend with me in Bratislava, while he got his head around this awful thing. I needed my classmate´s help to pick this friend of mine up at the airport, for getting him through public transport back to our flat might prove a difficult task for one, on account of his weelchair.
The story, of course, had some psychological depth to it, which I will not cover in detail - what matters is that my classmate, the sweetheart, said that of course he would help me, no question about it. The trap, thus, had been set.
We got through the week without him starting to suspect a thing, and last night the magical moment arrived. We got to the airport on time. On the way he had asked me some questions about my arriving friend, questions which I answered without hesitation, but the thickness of the plot proved worth every uttered lie.. his reaction, as he turned his head, expecting to see my poor friend roll out of the terminal, but seeing instead the smiling face of his beloved, was heart-stirringly beautiful. The pure, naíve and uncontained joy, in his shocked face and breaking voice, was indescribable.
Minutes before the actual moment, I found myself shivering with anticipation.. it had to work, it had to be successful, I simply had to see the love that indeniably would burst forth in their special moment.. and I did see it. It was beautiful. A blind man would have been able to smell it in the air, in that single moment where their eyes met, before my shocked friend managed to form his first word in his delirium d´amour. Truly touching. I am glad, and very proud, to have been a part of this.
My joy from this was twofold, however; firstly, just to be there and witness the reaction and the initial embrace of two lovers being reunited, and secondly, as causality might have it, perhaps one day I will be given a wonderful surprise of the sort that I have now helped to make possible. Perhaps I have by this made a cause, the effect of which will manifest itself identically, but to my pleasant surprise.
It is certainly an unforgettable experience for anyone, to have been successfully led astray by his friends, for the sake of such a moment. And selfish as it may sound for me to admit, that one of my incentives for helping out to the extent that I did, was my own desire for one day being the guy who turns his head to unexpectedly see his beloved, - it does not take away from the magnificence of my friend´s benefit from the results of my contribution to the cause.
In a nutshell; yesterday I enjoyed the beauty of my having harnessed my own selfish desire to someone else´s great benefit.
With pride,
..kH
Friday, March 11, 2005
Thursday, March 10, 2005
A love affair on top of the Opera House.
This night passed, I surprisingly found myself in the middle of another make-belief love affair. My platonic lover and I shared a memorable date, not unlike our prior affair on Valentine´s Day, in the silk embraces of the night.
I awoke in the middle of the night, seized by an urge to see him. I quickly climbed out of bed, got dressed, and ran out into the darkness. When I arrived at his house, conveniently placed in my neighbourhood in Bratislava (for ease-of-make-belief purposes), I woke him up by gently throwing small rocks, that I picked off the gound, to the pane of his bedroom window. He immediately realized what was going on, and with cat-like sleekness he climbed out of his window and joined me in the street.
We then took a long stroll around the city, which was covered in freshly fallen snow, the crisp cold air and stillness of the environment gave our walk an enhanced sense of romantic magic. We talked about anything and everything. We discussed passions, and dreams, fantasies and the complication of earthly matters. We recited our hearts´ own poetry, and reflected on past events. Eventually we came to the one place in Bratislava that still kept its doors open to customers, a narrow and yet surprisingly large tavern, placed on the basement floor of a central building. We went inside and I treated my companion to a few rounds of mulled wine, where our discussion continued.
Over the steaming glasses of wine we gradually became very innovative, and adventurous. We acted on our impulses, paid our bill in haste, and ran toward the city´s Opera House. We then climbed on top of the building together, embraced tenderly, and with a laugh lay down into the snow, and began making love. Covered in snow, under the stars, a mix of goosebumps and steaming sweat. Suddenly the roof of the building gave in beneath us, and we fell down through the roof, and landed on the middle of the Opera House´s main stage. This sudden and unexpected shift only added to our burning passions, and after I turned on a spotlight we only continued where we left off. On the stage, in the spotlight, we made love like wild animals, oblivious to anything outside our merged beings.
In our explosive climax, the building took fire, and through our orgasmic haze we saw where our wild, almost elemental performance, was being celebrated by a standing ovation from the auditorium. The Opera House burned up, along with everything in it, leaving only a deep-red, melted mark of our combined hearts, in the white of the snow.
...
Where our physical dimension is lacking, it finds fillness in the spiritual. Where our spiritual is lacking, it finds fillness in the physical. Where our wholeness lacks, we find fillness in others.
I am deeply grateful for the fill with which this passed night rendered me.
Still burning,
..kH
This night passed, I surprisingly found myself in the middle of another make-belief love affair. My platonic lover and I shared a memorable date, not unlike our prior affair on Valentine´s Day, in the silk embraces of the night.
I awoke in the middle of the night, seized by an urge to see him. I quickly climbed out of bed, got dressed, and ran out into the darkness. When I arrived at his house, conveniently placed in my neighbourhood in Bratislava (for ease-of-make-belief purposes), I woke him up by gently throwing small rocks, that I picked off the gound, to the pane of his bedroom window. He immediately realized what was going on, and with cat-like sleekness he climbed out of his window and joined me in the street.
We then took a long stroll around the city, which was covered in freshly fallen snow, the crisp cold air and stillness of the environment gave our walk an enhanced sense of romantic magic. We talked about anything and everything. We discussed passions, and dreams, fantasies and the complication of earthly matters. We recited our hearts´ own poetry, and reflected on past events. Eventually we came to the one place in Bratislava that still kept its doors open to customers, a narrow and yet surprisingly large tavern, placed on the basement floor of a central building. We went inside and I treated my companion to a few rounds of mulled wine, where our discussion continued.
Over the steaming glasses of wine we gradually became very innovative, and adventurous. We acted on our impulses, paid our bill in haste, and ran toward the city´s Opera House. We then climbed on top of the building together, embraced tenderly, and with a laugh lay down into the snow, and began making love. Covered in snow, under the stars, a mix of goosebumps and steaming sweat. Suddenly the roof of the building gave in beneath us, and we fell down through the roof, and landed on the middle of the Opera House´s main stage. This sudden and unexpected shift only added to our burning passions, and after I turned on a spotlight we only continued where we left off. On the stage, in the spotlight, we made love like wild animals, oblivious to anything outside our merged beings.
In our explosive climax, the building took fire, and through our orgasmic haze we saw where our wild, almost elemental performance, was being celebrated by a standing ovation from the auditorium. The Opera House burned up, along with everything in it, leaving only a deep-red, melted mark of our combined hearts, in the white of the snow.
...
Where our physical dimension is lacking, it finds fillness in the spiritual. Where our spiritual is lacking, it finds fillness in the physical. Where our wholeness lacks, we find fillness in others.
I am deeply grateful for the fill with which this passed night rendered me.
Still burning,
..kH
Sunday, March 06, 2005
I must admit that at this very moment, I have an urge to finish what I am doing.. and return home. Home being my native and wonderful land. This is not due to any troubles, or accidents.. it is just one of those things, I miss.. and I feel that I am missing out on something.
What contributes to this feeling is perhaps the isolation that I have started making for myself.. my diminishing joy of mindless nights out, my growing inspiration for my creative writing - which calls for isolation, a writer works in isolation.. and the slight feeling that I am seeing the same people every day. Do not get me wrong, the people I am with are great, and I love them.. but sometimes it dawns on me that because we are on this placement together, we are almost forced to spend all, or most, of our time together. Usually, when in your home environment, you experience total freedom in who you choose to spend time with. If it so happens that it is the same people, then that has been your choice. However, in our current circumstances, sometimes it is because we are stuck together that we are together.
I emphasize that I hold these people to be dear to me, and I have nothing against them, I fully enjoy their company, and respect them deeply.. it is only the slight feeling of enforced accompaniment that sometimes bothers me. However slight.
At the same time I know that I am doing what I should be doing. I am not missing out on anything too important. Not totally missing anything. And that, if I would have had the chance to go back home, I would have gone straight back into the hole that I have comfortably dug myself there. I would have settled. Between long intervals something important would have happened.. I would meet someone, hear something, read something, realize something, do something. In a nutshell, if I suffer for what I am doing, I know at the same time that it is important and that it will benefit me greatly in the long run, had I stayed at home progress would have introduced itself, but at a much slower pace.
Introspectively,
..kH
What contributes to this feeling is perhaps the isolation that I have started making for myself.. my diminishing joy of mindless nights out, my growing inspiration for my creative writing - which calls for isolation, a writer works in isolation.. and the slight feeling that I am seeing the same people every day. Do not get me wrong, the people I am with are great, and I love them.. but sometimes it dawns on me that because we are on this placement together, we are almost forced to spend all, or most, of our time together. Usually, when in your home environment, you experience total freedom in who you choose to spend time with. If it so happens that it is the same people, then that has been your choice. However, in our current circumstances, sometimes it is because we are stuck together that we are together.
I emphasize that I hold these people to be dear to me, and I have nothing against them, I fully enjoy their company, and respect them deeply.. it is only the slight feeling of enforced accompaniment that sometimes bothers me. However slight.
At the same time I know that I am doing what I should be doing. I am not missing out on anything too important. Not totally missing anything. And that, if I would have had the chance to go back home, I would have gone straight back into the hole that I have comfortably dug myself there. I would have settled. Between long intervals something important would have happened.. I would meet someone, hear something, read something, realize something, do something. In a nutshell, if I suffer for what I am doing, I know at the same time that it is important and that it will benefit me greatly in the long run, had I stayed at home progress would have introduced itself, but at a much slower pace.
Introspectively,
..kH
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)