I’m sitting here on my ass, barely able to walk. So I’m going to take this time and be productive. To tell you the tale how I’m between numb and immeasurable amounts of pain. A story that started as something completely different and today, nine months later we have reached the apex. How I went from hating long distance running for 27 years to running a marathon with 3 months of training.
It’s only fitting that this particular entry goes live on the 1st of May. On this day seven years ago we were given a second chance. To this day, it is by far the closest I’ve ever been to solving the mystery of “What happens after death?”
I have a dream that one day I’m going back to Australia and I’m going to live there legally and permanently. I’m going to get a nice house, a dog and just enjoy the weather if nothing else. I have set out a plan and I’m going to follow through until my dream becomes a reality. That is my mid/long term plan and I’m going to work on it. Sounds all nice and peachy, but life has a way of going the way it wants. I’ve had big dreams before and I’ve seen some of them succeed. A big portion of those dreams end up crashing and burning quicker than Tower 7.
I have this peculiar quirk that I speak, write and think in English, but I was born in Estonia, so naturally my mother tongue is Estonian. Despite that, I can speak and write English better than I can Estonian. I started learning English when I was six, watched a lot of Cartoon Network as a kid and lived abroad for over two years. Definite outside factors like movies, music, books, games etc. have played a strong part in it as well, but the strongest culprit behind it? My ability to express myself… it comes naturally in English, but feels clunky in Estonian.
I’ve always thought of myself as fairly average. Average in looks, intelligence, size, speed, strength, personality, capabilities… in life. A person with great ambition and mind full of dreams but nothing to back it up with. Someone who will always be a dreamer, living in obscurity, mindful only of his own well-being. Average. It’s actually rather ironic, because I hate being bored. That is to this day the one thing that hasn’t changed through 26 years, I hate boring. I dislike a bunch of things, like people cutting me off in traffic, long lines at the supermarket or obnoxiously loud people. It’s not difficult to rustle my jimmies, but it takes a lot to piss me off. With all of this in mind, I was bound to end up disappointed. In life, relationships, work, but most of all, myself. I would live with regrets and that’s something I can’t do. This was me, almost 7 years ago today, fresh out of high-school, with eyes full of hope and a heart that is yet to be corrupted.