what is your passion? what do you want to do in life? what excites to to wake up every morning (or day, for late-riser)? what makes you do things which may seem silly for other people but precious for you and you just don’t care about they think? to what you dedicate your time and attention? what makes you sacrifice anything? what makes you forget about the bad things happening in your life? or at least bear them for some time…
usually i don’t ask that. i try to find it myself. from people close to me. some people want to become dancers, some want to go to canada, or u.s. or australia. some want to have a pet shop. some want to have kids, some just want to find his or her true love. and it feels good when you realize it. be it other people’s or your own. you see it in their eyes, when they are talking about it. you see how they architect their plans in life.
and now i think i am in the middle of a crisis. i used to tell myself that i want to run a coffee shop. it’s mostly simply because i like coffee. i like cappucino, cafe latte, green tea frappucino. coffee with thick chocolate, liquor, spices, ice cream, whipped cream, even fruits (i like experimenting). i like old posters, i like jazz. i like the atmosphere of paris, and so on. i like to think that those who come to coffee shop are intellectuals. and if they aren’t, at leaast they enjoy their time, alone or with someone special. could be a client. or having precious gossip (gossip is important). in light conversation with my close friend, we had thought about it. i will do the coffee and reading books, my sister will do the cakes and pastry (she makes the best brownies and cheesecake in the world), and she will do the decoration, promotion, etc. of course those are not strict, we can jump into any affair coz anyway it’s a team work. but the second reason is a bit… intriguing. coffee is actually bad for my health. my stomach becomes gassy. and black coffee will give me sore throat. and who knows whatever damage coffee can cause me. so having a coffee world is a kind of my repressed desire. i’m not supposed to drink coffee, so let others have it and i will make them love it. a negation of revenge. could be a passion.
then, ok. i think i have something else. something in which i’m more involved. i like culture. i like art. and i like, to be the subject, to write. i have faith in words. they convey a message, yet hide more. and i kept writing because of my friends. we write and then read each other’s works. comment on them. rewrite. i kept writing because my very best friend supported me. he told me to read this this this, to reorganize the structure, to link one sentence to the next one.
practice, practice, and the strength will follow
you may say he’s my first official fan, but actually i am the one who is always jealous of his writings. the good thing is we are intellectually compatible.
and now he isn’t by my side anymore.
and now you, a soothing music. last carnival. energetic, yet banal.
Picturesque Inda 