I 've been so exhausted these days because of our crazy schedule that I ended up bursting into tears a couple of time, which is totally unacceptable. I blame it on the weather.

I want to some gallery because I long for art, I want peppermint cocoa and 24 hours of good sleep.

Well, I have lychees and instead of making dramas I better go an read some drama.

Old Oddities.

I miss fun times.

2010.

Well. In some way. Generally - I don't.

We are talking about schlaflosigkeit* on German classes and it seems like the causes of all disorders are restricted by stresses and overworking. I can't decide wether I work too much or too little.

*Insomnia.

skip it.

I write quite pathetic thing and leave them among all the other text files in my computer, feeling ashamed of them. I am fine, quite fine, but I feel so...decadent. This is the word.

This too shall pass. But I move cyclically. I get back to all the points. What's wrong?

Happy birthday, Christopher. Thank you for your breath-giving music.

I can't miss the chance. I need the chance. I hesitated but now - I should not, I must not, I can't miss the chance.

My body is against me.
I feel amoebic.
What's wrong?


35.2

The first week of the third module is gone. We have some new disciplines - I was somewhat excited about that. So, here they are - Theory of Literature, Theory and History of Culture and the subject dedicated to Translated Texts.


 I don't have the whole impression yet - it was somewhat incoherent yet, maybe except of the Theory of Literature (which was kind of interesting although the room was very hot and had no air condition).


The Theory of Culture professor's voice is very soothing and he is so calm and tranquil - it seems like even the world starts crashing behind the walls of the old building on Hitrovka he won't stop reading his lecture in such a soothing, comforting voice.


What for the Rules of reading translated texts, well, we'll see. The system seems weird - we have several professors to read the lectures of the course, which might be good and might be quite chaotic. But the list of texts is great, we start from Hamlet - and as much as I dislike Rome and Juliet (tut mir leid) I like Hamlet. I realised it, well, yesterday.   I read Hamlet in my early reaans - i must confess I like it much better now, trite as it is.

We will see, I tell you.

The rating is posted.  I hope to stay right where I am now and I am so hellishly scared. I need this. It's not the question of vanity, please, I must finish what still remains unfinished. I must. It keeps me suspened, I hung somewhere in the air. I have to keep the place as long as it is much better than I expected, I can be proud - but I am scared.

I want to Tartu. That's all I want (and will) say now.

I was hestitating and maybe still do, but I wan to go there. Not because if the place, but because of some special events.

Let's hope for the best.

places.

I think of places, different places. And I don't even mean the everlasting wanderlust, although I do have those little cosy nordic towns in my head and precious Mokum in my blood, I still don't mean that.

I think of... places. Of my schools, actually. Three of them.

With a gratitude but no nostalgia - of the first one, my primary school.
With a shiver - and, still, cold gratitude - about the second one, that gymnasium where I just did not fit in (thanks Heaven that I didn't) and from where flet desperatly. Funny enough, most of my ex-schoolmates that I keep in touch with are from there.

And the last one, where I graduated from. Lyceum. I must say, I don't miss school. Not for a second, and I won't miss, you must be sure.
Weird. Lyceum was not bad. I was not particularly pressed there - well, but it was mostly about studying and so on. Nothing more. It was a great change after the Gymnasium. I can't say I adored that place but I was quite tolerant and loyal towards it. Didn't much crtitise, didn't want to change the school, but after all it left me so... indifferent. It was an important step, something that I needed. I could breath free, could stop being suspicious, could stop feeling myself a black sheep.

It probably gave me something then? Yes.

I must thank T.N., thank V.S.m thank... don't know. Maybe all of the deserve being thanked.  

I looked through the recent picture of the lyceum's current pupils and I was a little bit taken aback - I mean, this place is already dead for me, non-existing, and they still go there, they study, gossip about the teachers, traunt the lessons, whine about the short holidays and traunt the saturdays.

Not me anymore, thanks God. I don't miss school, even having such a huge tendency for being nostalgic, I. DON'T. MISS. IT.

I don't know why I was taken aback. I get some Lyceum news from time to time, what's wrong then?

I shouldn't have said this.

Golden  years? The-best-darn-time-of-you-life-you-will-miss-these-years? Ha! Ha! But it's my problem - or not a problem?  I see so much people missing their schools but I am SO FREAKING HAPPY that I don't have to go to school anymore.

Even though I study harder then ever. And have less time than ever. And feel tired all the time and horrified by the amount of work. The only pressure is the rating system - and whatever, it pushes me forward. Well, I push myself forward!

The only person form the Lyceum I really communicate with is my literature teacher.
And whatever.



Somehow it's more personal that I expected it to be.




  

I am desperate. There are lines, but no sense at all.



 Thus city depresses me., even though I am bound to it.

Now holidays are oficially over - not counting today, of course. And summarizing it, I feel like they were not bad. Neither the best and not much of what I expected them to be, but still quite fine. I've done a decent part of the coursework, read some good (and not so) books, met my old friends and saw some interesting places - does not sound very bad. And yes, I've eaten chocolate much enough for weeks ahead.


The trouble is   me that I - as I wrote that August - recover only by changing a scenery. ...and I intended to add some more pointless whining but cnanged my mind. Cheers!

Tonight I fell in love with Bulgakov. Again.

The Master, immortal Master.

...I am to write the coursework, or rather adding that materials I managed to find in the Historical Library. Those old magazines, oh my. I can't boast of the particular affectation for the old press but I admit getting goosebumps when I received that selection of the "Ogonyok" magazine issues for (!!!) 1923.

Now I must work on the things I reprinted from there, but I'm being lazy and drinking coffee. Not totally unconsciously - I have the last free days of these holidays, I am trying to enjoy.


An energising video for you and for me.

I'm enjoying coffee and dates now before going to the library - I announce this day to be a Library Day, I intend to work a tiny bit with some books/articles and old newspapers (!), all in the sake of the coursework. I've already written a bit, but it's obsiously, not enough. So, still in progress.


Just a few days until the 15th! I am not as upset about the end of the winter holidays as I used to be as a schoolkid, but a tiny bit - yes.

Someone really sleepy.

And it's a bow behind my back. Under the tree I mean, not a sock or something.

I balance between nothing to say and too much to say. I probably better keep to myself all the things I was going to say - otherwise I risk to transform my poor blog into the Altar of Whining.

Bad thing: I hate my escpaism.

Good thing: I'm done with Machiavelli and free to read some Bulgakov. Hell yeah.

I'm drinking my late night linden tea and feel like writing a little. Today I've realised that I am - actually, generally - bored. And that I want poetry, I want art, chemistry, fireworks, inspiration, movement, emotions. Not in the negative way, you see what I mean.

To see more, to feel more - in better ways, to be open, as now I am somewhat aloof and stiffly, apatheticly reserved.

I want to achieve some of my goals - and let it be just one of the steps. That's way I better focus on the studies and... and not to be distracted. It's part of that self-perfecting I long for.

 But, but...

I want art, I want poetry, I want fireworks.

And I am generally, actually bored.

That's all.

And I have theatre tickets!

Back to Moscow - I've spent a couple of days with my family not so far from Moscow. Nothing remarkably interesting to be told, some vegetable-like days: I eat cookies (grandma's homemade!), read books and watch (or rather criticise) TV - sometimes.

Well, bow I am back - and have to get back to my studies soon (officially my holidays last til the 15th but I have a lot to do, especially with a coursework). I suppress the urges to do it now - I definitely need some rest, I've worked hopefully - hard and need to recover. So, I await some pretty days.

I love the fact that the Central Channel started showing over those BBC Sherlock series after airing the first episode of the 2d season - I've only managed to watch a couple of them and now I can make up for it. I can't day that I love it and can't say that I don't - I am curious. Very curious. I adore how irritating and unbearable their Holmes is! It's absolutely hilarious. How he likes to show off!