Everything ready, or it simply seems to be ready. I’m going to Moscow today to end up with the institute and check out of the hostel. That’s the main purposes. The minor ones are to walk and write more, to breathe the air of the capital. I need it as far as I won’t be there probably for a year and I will certainly miss it with all my heart. I do now.

I want to investigate some new places though I will need to pack things and take care of my new status properly. I’m going to take an academic relieve for some time. Just in case. For what exact case I cannot guess. But the thing I know is that it won’t be easy and maybe even psychologically obsessive. However, I simply must do it.

My mind is wandering in search for some faults in preparation but I simply cannot get it. It’s a habit to pack things which make me too calm to be confident in my readiness. No matter!

Besides, there is a book of that woman on studying languages I want to read and some more another books by Tony Buzan.

Today was a busy and noisy day of cleaning up, shopping around and walking through the town.

At the morning we haven’t had our traditional breakfast but delicious coffee and cookies. After that in spite of all my reluctance, we were cleaning up all around the flat. There were so much dust and dirt at the armoires and chandeliers. The endless cat’s wool at the rug which makes the vacuum tough. After all that black dust and ginger wool everywhere I felt weak and tired. But that was not the end, as usual. I made a lunch for us and a bunch of other small things. All I wanted then was the bed. Really, that was the bed. We had good lunch with marinated meat and green beans.

Going out I was a been afraid of all those activities on the streets because I felt too tired to take an active part in those. We watched the old-school cars, the city special equipment and how roads were blocked. The workshops and presentations began by the national library where we were talking with a man who initiated plantation of the trees at the burnt or empty land. A woman gave me a leaflet on the speed reading school.

While we were going through all that tables and tents I couldn’t talk to mom properly, my words got lost in the noise. We relaxed at the small pretty cafe at the central trade house (which is not popular now). There were fresh air, cold tasty milkshakes and the whole spirit of calmness. At that center, we tried some perfumes, looked for jewelry and went out again.

The next destination was … another trade center. For a few hours, we were wandering around the racks of clothes. Strangely, but it’s really hard to understand what do I want while shopping with mom. We have different tastes but what is more important we have different financial status in such situation. And it bothers me, it makes me ascetic. Another point is that I don’t like mass markets and I don’t like to spend scarce money on clothes.  I’d prefer small shops. Big problem! I know this!

The town was joyful when we went out there. There were young boxers, basketballers, wrestler, some interesting dancing classes, stand-up comedians (which weren’t funny) and non-professional singers. At the bay, the fuss was noisier and less interesting though quite colorful. We were pretty tired and soon went away to have a dinner at the local cafe. That one evidently became poorer with time and lost the former secularism.

Though I had many thoughts and ideas during the day it seems so tiresome now, after hot tea, evening news and the whole day on foot.

Today

So, lately, I was deeply encouraged by the person I randomly found on YouTube. It sounds silly and it can be so. Two days I was running to and fro making different things with the huge amount of fuel inside. I wanted to learn her determination, energy, her smartness and active way of living. I saw how cleverness and insistence made her a top. Today I went for a short walk to the Volga bay. There was her interview at Scotland and me going by the embankment during the sunset. She spoke about socio-psychology, languages, the way it changes us mentally and culturally. There were good arguments which triggered me to study psychology and culture studies. That’s like an ajar door with the strip of light inside and I want to open it widely, go inside and find more.

There is a hope in my heart, there is energy and there is a determination. No matter that for the moment I struggle with history study and need patience, focus and creative thinking.

I’m stacked. Recently I could spend hours for studying history and English but now I can hardly push myself to think about plein air’s activity. That’s strange and terrible the same time. The action I was eager to do during college years, now is a reluctant thing. My hours are spent with high futility and boredom. I am just afraid of any steps. I’m afraid of looking like I’m not like an artist and vice versa. That’s a headache which worn me out.

June home 104But sure, there are the great educational programs which seem to me interesting. They all require extremely high score at the exams. And I’m afraid I’m not that smart.

Now my inner feeling looks like a bent pet at the corner with no desire to go out and shop. There is nothing I’d like more than calm and clear vision. I’ve spent the whole year on hesitation, doubts, anxiety and low self-estimation. And my life has stopped. My inner force which helped me to move forward and make jokes now is a small and dreamy one. It’s still difficult for me to consider life with gravity. I still have high hopes and dreams. However, my inner voice speaks to me that staying where I am now is not a good idea at all. My inner voice still has this opinion. It still has one.

 

All this warmth and all this coldness.

I overslept for a half of an hour and did exercises in a rush instead of a jog. Mom boiled some porridge for us and we had breakfast together in the sunny kitchen. During the road through the chip district, my head was light and empty, the same continued when I entered the University without paying any attention to the crowd of young applicants in front of the gym. While the exam passport was given I interacted with a girl who was coming to the English exam too. In spite of her medical background, she seemed boring – who does the cheat sheets before the very exam? We were sitting in the empty auditorium for about fifteen minutes in total boredom. I had managed to notice the leak in the ceiling, construction of the tables (which weren’t tables but the composition of iron balks and countertop), newness and the cheapness of the building. I’d noticed the silly phrases hand written on the table. Twice I was recognized as a teacher.

Then the woman came in and for more ten minutes set the equipment. The papers she gave us were surprisingly familiar. That was the first option on the site I used. Some answers were familiar even before the listening. The critical moment was speaking as I remember that there needed a structural answer but I hadn’t rehearsed any answers at all. I did some mistakes while speaking and heard it. After that boring process, I returned to writing. I rewrote three paragraphs about space. That seemed more or less interesting. After completing all the papers I got out of that cold chip auditorium.

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The Institute and this University have in common bad new construction – painted walls and new doors, but they are the same impersonal and cold. You know, organizations built something new because of the pure need, and in this necessity very often makes them neglect aesthetics. After a few years, such building starts being and looking like unpleasant woodshed with broken parts but still able to work on the main purpose. Like an ugly loo.

There is a plenty of things I could reflect on after that exam. The main was the same. “What do I do? I’m not going to be a linguist and work on an employer. ”

Hot weather makes us all feel dizzy and unconscious. It was a great idea to swim at the pool after lunch.

Moscow application 2017

After the kind and lovely film with Jim Carey, after the strange dream at five a.m. I opened eyes at Moscow suburb. There was warm springy Sun and people were slowly going somewhere. Finally, I felt nothing but some faint romantic relief in my breast. The closer I was to the hostel tenser I became. At the dark room at a half to eight, there was my unpleasant roommate. But moreover, her being there, her things were put on my bed in some terrible disorder, there were lots of sacks everywhere. OK, I just had no desire to lecture her, so I was simply angry. Surely, nobody cleaned the common room and the bathroom had become horribly dirty. Someone used my sponge, toilet paper, and dishwashing liquid. Fun isn’t it. That was a point I lost any respect for them. I had to change the room a long time ago and live in a tiny but clean and friendly environment.

Quite strange but my heart was silent while I was going to the Institute (to pay for the hostel) and some thoughts were flawed in my mind. Probably, I exaggerate, but there was an empty space and I couldn’t feel anything warm inside. I didn’t want to be noticed and as fast as I found the cash-desk closed I went away. People who were going there made me feel so different and some kind of lonely.

At the favorite street, I firstly walked a bit to feel that terrific vibes. Then despite all my desire to walk farther, I came back to the library. You know libraries are so good spaces for learning. Even me in a sad state of mind with all those low self-esteem stuff could focus there and just learn something. Before I got hunger I managed many things and came around to the idea of the usefulness of the libraries.

The cafe I came in was as usual wonderful. I took great soap and a potato, I was sitting there “as usual” looking at the people who just had lunch. Only there I could frankly think about changing the wardrobe. Then that was the bookshop where my sense of strangeness was high. I never really buy books. If I buy them it’s never that romantic long process, it’s more like a deal.

Then again library, low self-esteem and the idea that it’s going to fail. At that library, it often comes to my mind that the thing I study is so primary comparing with their exam preparations and other activities. But finally, it’s OK, nobody matters.

After some time I went for a walk at the center. It was shining with Sun and good looking people around. I visited an old bookshop, drunk coffee and ate a burger at the quiet square by the university campus. There was so wonderful sight. And no tourists around. But I must confess that my only and the most important problem is the sharp loneliness. The great city in its blossom but I don’t want anything alone. And I feel even more alienated than ever. Adding the common recent state I try not to cry because of the stupidity of the roommate. Isn’t it silly? I just must work on my network.

Before the road to M

So today I’m going to sit on the bus and go to Moscow for the exams. What am I feeling? Actually relief. It is not because of the exams or life changing process but because I am going to Moscow which means I’ll be able to walk there and visit my favorite places. It means being at the town. For some reason, it takes me an easiness. It would be perfect if there was a flat of mine.

On the road to the bus station, I met NastyaH who was coming to the hospital. Our talk was fun and friendly, I’d got that people had misunderstood my silence and I should be more open with them. Then I luckily bought a ticket and walked down the road on foot. It even seemed marvelous. I mean the idea to stay at the same place. Everything is easy and understandable enough.

At home, I packed the backpack and downloaded some films for the road. The thing I found out is that feature films are rather boring for me right now, I cannot watch them as much as before. I’ve got one Jim Carey’s comedy – perfect for the road and the documentaries by Parfenov (which I really like). Speaking of documentaries I must say that for me it’s an easy and convenient way to know the world, but this way isn’t the best. The best is traveling and connecting with a variety of people. That’s best for sure.

I even looked up the books on the war topic (the next one for mastery). It was strangely tiresome to wade through the jungle of the plots. Fiction books certainly are not so touchy for me as non-fictional. Or I just ain’t able to read it. Which is more probable. (But of course, I picked one just in case).

Actually, I have no desire to prepare for the exams, it’s weakness, yes. I have already refused to go to Spb (I watched the rating – it speaks I won’t be applied even with maximum mark. Speak nothing about my real level) The other situation happens with the local university where I certainly can enter, at least for the part-time program. And it could be interesting to have an additional diploma.

The other idea which hovers in my mind is to get a job for the weekends. I need money as much as I need independence (and privacy).

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rainy rainy Saturday

At the renewed McCafe on the Bay, there are too many people around. My mocha was delicious despite the noises around. That was so strange to notice how people drinking through a straw resemble the cows. Divided by the panels and tables they are pushed inside by some strange reflection of local fashion.

I finally send the last paper to be concerned to pass the exam at the reserve day. But some part of me has already spoken that it’s hopeless and rather expensive then rational. Surely, I’d like to see Spb once again but now it’s more important to figure out further steps. For some reason I’m lazy. Really, I am reluctant to do anything special, it’s too comfortable to stay slow. I know it’s not for a long time but now that’s so.

Actually, the question which makes me up at night is “Could I be successful in that humanities for real or should I dine in the arts again?” I’ve got that I need a balance between knowledge and practice in multiple areas, not only one. Yesterday we watched the documentary film about Spain and there was a story of a girl who lost her legs because of the terrorist’s attack. She was shining, full of life and love, she got a few higher educations, made a great career at journalism and became a happy mother. It was said by her that she and her mother just decided to be happy. It’s strong. As for me, it’s really strong and worth respect. This is the

June home 156

Yesterday we watched the documentary film about Spain and there was a story of a girl who lost her legs because of the terrorist’s attack. She was shining, full of life and love, she got a few higher educations, made a great career at journalism and became a happy mother. It was said by her that she and her mother just decided to be happy. It’s strong. As for me, it’s really strong and worth respect. This is the stem we all need. And me in particular.

If I pick the documents out of the institute and be applied to the local one on the languages, I thought it could be interesting to work on being a professional artist, not a studying one.  The other option is staying at the Institute, continuing the realistic way and going out in Moscow. All I need is a clear picture and tools for the progress.

Autumn-like day at home

_MG_6349It’s not only raining today but it’s darkening with every hour. I can see it through the window.  The whole day I am sitting with the history book, laptop, and cup of tea. Honestly, my mind is rather full of new ideas and some anxiety than the laser focus on the twenty century’s events. That’s why I still struggle with the lack of concentration and understanding. It seems even hopeless now. I feel weak when I want to say “It’s too much for me! I’m sick of history”.

My page at the notebook with the plans for August is almost full. At the finish line, all thoughts are about post exams time. I want some emotional relief after that. Maybe it seems strange to hear, but the main reason for the emotional burnout is my unexpected desire and some ideas for the paintings and more. The last notes at the notebook all are the IDEA ones. The other desire is simple and trivial one – earn money.

One of my coursemates is having a vacation at the seaside abroad. Surely, I could be envy about it but as it was said to my mom “I could make up the better way to spend that money”. I mean education and the development. No vacation while I don’t have a proper professional position and some real constant profits. It isn’t time for enjoying the benefits, it’s time for raising them.

But this evening we actually are going to watch something and go to bed early as we both are tired of such weather and routine.

Let’s write here

During the whole day, I am distracted and scattered too many times. There is nobody to shift the responsibility, it’s only I and my complacency. It even becomes neurotically – I refresh DM too often and wait for some news from nowhere exactly like those rats at the lab. Yes, it’s a dopamine game in my brain, I know.

The one curtain solution I found is writing the diary. I mean that school year’s diary with sentences sounded like a report to the policeman. It seems to me that I let time go because I don’t actually aware of own activity during the day. The stream is allowed to just flow away. Many people live like this but wait is it what I always wanted – unconscious life? Frankly, no.

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Scientists speak so often about the profits of meditation and streaming writing. Why don’t I try it now? Firstly, here at this blog, I feel like I must write some way which doesn’t include personal, sometimes really boring parts of life and I write rather formally then freely. Secondly, there is just a laziness and fear of discovering something I don’t want to know about myself. (What can it be? Ain’t I so OK?) Sometimes writing is the painful and time-consuming process, which makes me avoid such activity quite often.

But now I simply desire to clear my mind and I can see that those morning pages are too temporal healing. As a girl quoted recently, those who write every day intensify new ideas inside rather than who do it by chance. I want to change my situation with this.