And so after I heard the song Extreme Ways by Moby it reminded me on Jason Bourne trilogy, because that song was used as the soundtrack. I was lucky enough to see the first movie and then read all three books during one summer. It was a great summer, a magnificent trip, and I felt nostalgic. Anyway, these days my grim mood has been coming back, and with it, my need to over analyze every single thing. My train of thoughts was rather simple: the song -> Jason Bourne -> amnesia -> and all of the ‘oh so very crucial and deep philosophical things about life’ (and every time I get there I hit the bottom, but nevertheless I can never seem to stop doing that).

And so I was wondering… Imagine waking up one day somewhere new without knowing who you are. Wouldn’t that be the most amazing and real escape ever? Forget about everything and everyone and start anew, while trying to remember. And the most important thing that seems to really bother me: What would I think about myself and my life while discovering everything about it once again, as a complete outsider? Maybe it would help me realize what I really wanted to do with my life. Maybe, and more probably, it’s stupid to even think about it…

On another note, if it wasn’t for 24 and irish dancing, I’d probably go crazy. That’s it for now… I should start blogging again!

After reading a lot for the last couple of weeks, I started wondering what it’s like to assume a different identity in real life, because that’s the exact kind of feeling I experience when I’m reading. It’s all about the escape from real life, being somebody else for a little while, needing to identify with somebody. But the crucial question throughout remains the same:  Who am I? Is there even a way one can give a truthful answer to this question without mentioning what they do or what they like or dislike?

I believe there are more personalities, more identities in each and every one of us. We may not even be aware of their existence, subconsciously hiding them. I believe we all experienced a need to escape, not from the others, but from ourselves. That’s why we love movies, books, and now more than ever, internet friends. Some find that satisfying enough, but what if we go beyond that and create different identities in real life? But not the way psycho people do it, without acknowledging the presence of their alter egos, but being fully aware of all the different people we can be. What if we realize we can make people believe a lot of the things we want them to believe and take advantage of that?

Just like con artists do it. Like Frank Abagnale did it. I read Catch Me If You Can, a story about his life and things he did, starting when he was only 16 years old, and it’s stunning. How he managed to foul play all these different people and with ease do the things one wouldn’t even dream of. I always had a special kind of sympathy for con artists, and their witty minds and superb ideas. It’s thrilling, exciting and extraordinary how some people can risk so much…

And then I’m wondering if I would ever be able to risk like that. Even though I keep saying I have nothing to lose, risking everything (even if it’s just your habits and way of life) is still hard. I guess one of the main reasons for that is the constant fear of failure, and we all want to be successful. Risk usually comes as a last resort, when there is no other way out.

I guess it takes a brave one…

I’m sitting on a chair, at my desk, taking the most unpleasant body position one could ever imagine, and I am reading this super exciting book on my computer. (The book I read today was Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk, and if you liked the movie, I highly recommend reading the book, it has a great dark, gloomy feeling – enough said.) I’m slowly going over the pages until all of a sudden..

*POOF!*

..and I’m out. I no longer see words, only images, crystal clear images in my mind and a completely new world, I can touch, smell, feel… I am not aware of what’s going on around me, It’s like I get disconnected from the real world. I see everything, every little detail, I picture every single thing.  And it’s so scarily real I can hardly get out even when I stop reading. It happens more often than that. I don’t necessarily need to read at all. I create all these worlds inside my mind, and they’re just as real, sometimes it’s hard to make a difference between my reality and everyone else’s. It takes only five seconds of silence and…

*POOF!*

..I’m gone, and if no one distracts me I can be gone for hours. I guess that’s one of the reasons why I like to travel. I sometimes get on the bus, and just go around and around the city, or I just walk, completely lost in my own thoughts and my own worlds. I can never be bored when left alone, pictures in my mind are so vivid, that they’re not even pictures they look more like distant memories of something that really happened. The same thing happens when I’m talking with someone…

*POOF!*

…and all their problems, experiences, adventures, instantly become mine. I can relate to everything being said and I can feel the empathy like no one else. It makes me think of all the different lives I lived and all these things I’ve been through, even though it wasn’t really me but a book character or one of my friends. Their experiences make me look wise because I manage to take them over, and make them mine. My dreams are like that too…

*POOF!*

..and I start wondering if something really happened at all or I just had a dream about it or was the certain thought born in one of my day dreaming fantasies. Did I really say something to someone, or did I just intend to, or pretend to? Did something happen in real life or was it just a bunch of pictures played inside my mind only?  There is no clear distinction. I can also replay something that really happened inside my head over and over again to every tiny little detail, I can as well change some details if I really want to, overwrite my memory  – I am an observer that doesn’t miss a thing…

*POOF!*

..and I’m still wondering, If I could wake up in a different place, at a different time, could I wake up as a different person..?

I sat by the window and watched the thunderstorm. What a perfect way to end the day! I wish everyday would end with the storm. I like that peaceful feeling right before the first lightening and then all the rush when it strikes; people running in all the different directions, laughing and holding hands… I wouldn’t run though, I always thought walking in the rain, letting the raindrops fall down your hair, your face and getting completely wet, felt great.

There was a young man in the park, running toward the street yelling: “come on boy, hurry up” and right behind him ran his dog, biting an empty plastic bottle, playing around with it, like nothing was wrong with the weather. I was wondering how he felt, but he seemed to have a lot of fun. There were these two girls, that looked quiet spooky, with long black dresses, and they were not running- they just stood there, enjoying the rain, splashing through the puddles, looking weird, even to me, just because they didn’t do the same thing the rest of the world would have done.

It seems I like to observe the thunderstorm from the safety of my home, through the window only. It makes me feel safe like nothing else ever does. Having it happen to me never feels the same way though. I guess I just like to feel safe…