Clumsy

In the course of one day I have bumped my head into a tree, hit my desk with my knee and crashed my elbow into some object I can’t remember now. On the way home with my Hercu [me bike], I could not stop thinking that the only thing left is to fall off it. I was so cautious, though, so cautious about it that I made sure it did not happen. It’s all the matter of being able to focus in the end.

There is a certain feature that unites clumsy people, I thought. That feature is a vivid imaginary world, the world of illusion. Sometimes it draws you in so bad that you don’t even notice what’s happening in the surrounding world, in the so called “real” world, although I would actually argue which one out of the two is more “real”.

I like my lil’ imaginary world, I feel at home there. When I’m there, I’m at peace. Sometimes I go out to see how people outside are doing, but then almost immediately I get drawn back in. Back to my safe-house. I think I spend more time there than on the planet earth. The more I do so – the more it’s tempting to stay. To just stay here for good.

Don’t hate the clumsy.

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