... About myself-for others

Blind Guide ENG

Greetings, dear wanderer, whom fate has intentionally or accidentally led here.
Allow me to briefly introduce myself and my little world through this introduction and the writings on this page. I should warn you, it won’t be easy to figure me out. But don’t worry! As you recover from the shock of realization and get to know me better, you’ll understand what I’m trying to convey.
Are you ready? Let’s dive in!

I was born in the latter third of the 20th century, in a peaceful socialist-realist maternity ward in a small town near Budapest. My arrival seemed to be eagerly anticipated, seeing as the entire country was dawned in decorations and celebrations a week before my birth. (Of course, haters will try to downplay it and spread rumors that it had something to do with the foundation of the state or “St Steve the First”, but don’t believe them!)
My relatively quiet, middle-class childhood doesn’t need many additions, except the fact that despite the rumors stating otherwise, I did have a children’s room. As a young schoolboy, I was deeply enthralled by nature. According to my teachers, I would collect all sorts of bugs and insects, which to this day, hasn’t changed. Seeing my untapped, but brewing potential, my ancestors made it their sacred mission to direct it into some form of art. The only problem was that I couldn’t find the “eternal spark” in any of them. I drew, but my pictures morphed into small sculptures due to me constantly crumpling the paper. I tried my hand at sculpting… Well, let’s not talk about that. (I still have a few of my “creations.” Looking at them through my wiser, older eyes, they resemble Dali’s paintings. When my children want to ensure a good day, they take them out, resulting in fits of laughter.) The path of music was better suited to me; I played the violin diligently and could have had potential if… Well you see, you either do something properly or not at all. However, my love for music has forever remained. After my elders saw that I was a hopeless case, they abandoned my re-education with a tired wave of defeat.
**However, during drawing I realized another form of using paper… Oops! I didn’t mean that! I meant that if I shape letters and arrange them neatly next to each other, sooner or later they form something resembling writing. At first, I didn’t know what to do with this knowledge, I was afraid of it, and I hid it, so I wouldn’t be laughed at. Then I started showing it to others. The reception was mixed, but the feedback was positive. This was especially evident in the grades I received for it.
A few years passed, and due to other commitments, writing took a back seat. It occasionally resurfaced (stonemason blues, bathroom graffiti), and other writings, but their memory is now shrouded in a benevolent haze.
My life as a family-man began, followed by the now seemingly mundane pursuit of work, work, work, and more work. I left writing, art, and the wonders of the world to others, until…

One beautiful day, in accordance with God’s plan, a professor and Johann the electrician worked diligently to improve my eyesight until they managed to completely “disassemble” it. I won’t go into details about what it’s like to race against time, to see and experience everything you’ve taken for granted in the world, knowing that these things will soon become the exclusive property of darkness. Fine, I’ll tell… but only you. Imagine a cozy Friday morning, hot coffee in hand, sitting in your favorite pajamas, listening to the morning radio show. You have no worries, and no one is rushing you, you’re planning next year’s vacation in your mind. Then you notice that the music has stopped, and an unfamiliar, metallic voice reads the news, “…a 5000 Km diameter asteroid will impact the earth in three hours, then it’s lights out for everyone. Oh, and we’ve known about it for a year, we just forgot to tell you. So, we apologize, we’ll find those responsible on Monday, and they will be executed, etc…” Most people in this situation would jump from panic and rush to the nearest department store to grab the last flat-screen TV before the crowds surge in. Some would collapse and cry upon hearing the news. A few would start digging holes to lay in with their documents clenched between their teeth for easy identification. This is where you (or I) come in, the one percent on the fringes, the ones who think differently, and according to the majority: “…the fools.” You slowly put down your mug, careful not to spill its contents. You turn off the radio, which is now playing its usual dull tunes. You’re wondering, if you happen to survive, how would you continue your life. You don’t freak out; what’s the point? The situation is given, it’s no longer about how to avoid it, but how to endure it. It’s a bit bothersome that you don’t have much time to fuss over choosing clothes and tying your shoes, but when it’s over, at least you won’t be standing naked at the gates of heaven. And if you survive, there won’t be anyone to scold you for it in the end.
That’s how I did it. I used the short time available to prepare everything for the big BANG. I try not to view the matter too tragically, although I don’t always succeed. For now, I’ll finish here, and let the writings tell you the rest…
Thank you for reading til the end (because you’ve made it this far). If you have any opinions or questions, don’t hold back. Leave a comment or send an email. If you’re ready, go ahead and start at the table of contents.