Though I can be distracted any moment it is the only chance to have writing done today.
There are as usual many plastic things and plastic dusty people. My hands typically smell with typographical colour and while I was writing these lines I’d amended the printer and sold a fresh card. But generally it is very calm today even at the canteen near by the trade center. It is the road radio which fills air with the spirit of province as great as it can be. I don’t know, but the road radio associates with something mediocre. As the weather is fine people either walk or do agricultural stuff (like my mom does).
For these four days in ugly environment or among dusty mentality my excitement had been having a great struggle with routine life. Even physically I feel how this all is small-minded, how gloomy it is to go with the main stream. I write evident things but the difference between the big city’s mentality is huge. I mean that the main thing I looked for in Moscow was the people’s clever mindset and I had presumed that they were small-minded and closed. But now I see that it doesn’t differ from here. However, there are many cultural things like theatres, exhibitions and profound people as well as better environmental design. The link with the whole big world is perceivable as internationalism is everywhere. (I may think so because of the residence near by many embassies) But all that exists. Here I need to be stronger and passionate to keep up and don’t eat cakes at the evening or watch something with mom.
Yesterday, I soften and allowed myself to eat some more meal at the dinner (it was after ten hours work actually) and spend time at the Internet (though I got some information about education programs).
I’ve got that all this researching and preparing stuff is the greatest rubbish of mu mind. Real people do things in spite of its size. And real people are strange, odd and not normal by nature. Normality is passivity and unjustified trust to other’s views. But creativity demands open mind and open heart to feel and see. How long couldn’t I read poems with joy? It is a part of routine people to have art out of understandable room. I mean all the cultural depth and beauty are at the next room and the only door separates them. And how often such people consciencely close this door to have an “easy” life or don’t look stupid. Eternal ideas of maternity, childhood, household are quite clear. But as I can see this is all. No sense of taste in any kind of decoration (only pretty girls can dress themselves).
It’s time I need some immortal people to listen. The only way is to read or watch documentaries. It’s all study. My interest in the development of brain in computer age led me to the old interest in philosophy and social psychology. And I’ve already known what to read after the exams. The other thing is the limitation in typing and using cellphone. And bravo! I can do mental arithmetic again!
This is the holiday weekend but my time is so squeezed that there is no intention to celebrate anything. I lose the connection with community. This all doesn’t matter for me.