A letter of motivation

I tend to see signs in even the most of trivial of occurrences-such is my need to mystify life. I arrive at the bus stop 20 seconds prior to the bus-lucky; I run into someone I've hoped never to see again-unlucky; I turn the TV on at precisely the same moment when my favorite song for the week starts-lucky; the fortune slip that comes with my latte sucks-unlucky. (I log into my nin.com account right after TR-very lucky; I post in my blogs something of a crucial importance for me and no one gives a damn-well...that's already a sheer catastrophe.)

And ever since I put into motion the idea of going to Berlin on June 6^th and be at the 30 seconds to Mars gig I stumble upon hindrances at every step:

* in order to buy the concert ticket I needed my credit card…and I couldn't remember where I've placed it. To find it took a whole afternoon, tones of unholy words and a strenuous and disturbing inner debate regarding my sanity (not to mention the mess around the house that got almost trashed).
Never mind-found it! Ah!

* then it was Amazon: I went to purchase the 3 albums so far and pre-order the new one. “This is war” was out of stock and I had to opt for the deluxe edition-that’s 10 extra dollars but I’m not counting-I need to be square and fair with this band. But! The new album will be delivered AFTER June 6^th. Damn.

Oh, well…

* next: plane ticket. Departure time from Sofia is perfect-early afternoon, but I’ll have to fly back from Berlin late in the evening and land in Sofia even later. Shit. And as I tried to buy it an error occurred-there was some problem with the online banking system, bla-bla-bla, and I had to leave it for tomorrow. Scheisse.

Forgot “Oh, well…”

* on to: hotel reservation. I always book the hotel nearest to the venue. But I found out that ALL the hotels near the venue were already sold out. What the…!? Oh, …

I’ve never had so many troubles organizing a concert trip.

Now, if I were to interpret all those obstacles as signs I would've given up at step 1. And I would've-given I believed there was such a thing as destiny. Luckily I don’t. Right now the one thing I believe in is that I want to be there, that I shouldn't allow anything to stand in the way between me and such a simple wish as attending a rock concert, that I’m fucking sick of being scared by the unknown and of always playing on the safe side. You know why I want to go so badly? I'll tell you anyway: because I had a vision of my life if I don’t-flat, eventless, neat, with no memories to make me smile. I want some quality fun before Death asks for me. It is as simple as that.

And signs can go to hell.

P.S. Just in case there is destiny and I’ve touched a nerve-come on, be a good sport, umm? I couldn't have possibly messed up that much as to deserve no help from the higher-ups.