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.
But 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.
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).
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
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.
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.
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.
Every day takes me some new wave of thinking and reflecting upon the future. It transforms in some way. The basic force is feeling on the contrary of rationality. I started to argue upon the question “Which way can more probability uplift me?” This question is the logical outcome of my own vision of the life I’d like to have. Being in my hometown pinched me to come around some ideas about this.
I certainly get tired and bored by only one study too fast. The same I can say about doing things – it wears out after some time and I need new knowledge. The balance is the solution and the goal. The other thing is all my huge demands to the education system which rather annoys me than teaches. I still dream about, you know, top of the top and get bothered by my inability to live the kind of life I really want (I mean the capability to be physically at the places and with people which share the mindset)
Today was a day of cleaning up and watching “The house of cards”. And when I and mom went out for a walk the total intolerableness made me feel great anger and hunger for life (people, knowledge, traveling, creating, thinking, achieving). The life of strangers around, of this town and my street are so distant and unfamiliar for me now.
That’s quite strange to go through the whole town to the local university – the same place where I went to the tennis. There are the open market and a few dusty bridges which may us see the ravine with its decrepit houses. Using public transport this way is full of old and grumpy people who haven’t changed for the decades. Everything there stays the same unbearably boring and limited. Sometimes I ask myself how could I live here for twenty years but then remember all my moaning about moving on and everything falls into place.
The application went very well, I gave them my copies and got their good spirit. The application process was going on at the tennis gym. The irony, isn’t it? I wandered there up and down looking at the doors and corridors with the pictures. Strangely enough, but they have the same door signs as VGIK has.
The way back I was kinda sad and furious about this all. I don’t like using backup plans at all. I know that I need to give up my slowness and low self-esteem. Going back home makes me firstly more rigorous about life and secondly, make me give up a highly intensive chase for the dreams. Isn’t it the most stupid thing – being a half of yourself, accepting the least instead of fighting for the most? Being honest with yourself truly require lots of work and perseverance.
I just wanted to say that it’s quite terrible to feel like you could (and maybe should) be at good master degree program, but your documents can’t be accepted even at the local BA programs for the reason of law. How often in our roads of life we just shuffle slowly instead of going straight or running? Trying to get accepted by some low-ranked universities while you know your place must be some better ones.
Such days I perceive misplaced. It comes clearly and sharp. It comes with the delusion of the big and old city some streets create under the rain. It’s just a great contrast between me and all those green applicants who want to feel safe and legitimate.
The other thing I got lately was a simple idea. You really need to work for a progress, not just wait for it to happen. Evidently. But why is it so new? Maybe because last year I rather acted in order to avoid, not to achieve. Now I am sick of the foundation of my life now and see that there is a lot to repair and create.
While I was cutting the onions I watched an old documentary about Pozner. You know, to discharge my mind. But during that time, the sharp contradiction I faced so often during school and college time met me again. My grandma went to the kitchen too and was washing and moving something in our three square meters, she was talking some rubbish and expecting me to answer something on that.
The image of Pozner’s early life in the upscale environment, educated people around and variety of tasks around made me feel envy again. Surely, my life is another story, but there is something offensive in looking at wealthy life. I won’t the beauty and freedom of such lifestyle but I regret I hadn’t a possibility to be surrounded by the better environment. And surely, there is neither excuse for me nor a reason for sadness. I just see how things are linked to each other. Past and present.
The last two hours I do only try to focus on my social study preparation but thoughts and emotions have been crossing my mind wildly. So I decided that the best way to clear it is to write some here.
Basically, I think about work and study, but the whole lifestyle is in focus too. I remembered the air of London (however pathetic it sounds), flipped through the old photos, watched Pozner’s documentary film, and had a deep reflection on the dreamy question “what would you do if everything is possible?” And there is a couple of answers but one picture. Surely, the gap between dreams and present situation is huge but it’s much easier to draw the straight line there.
So, most of the days I spend learning either history or social study and have nothing to do outside the flat. Sometimes as it’s been just now I go down the street to refresh my mind. That’s basically all I do.
A month ago at my hometown, the mass cafe – McCafe was opened. And today I was there again (it opened here) and did the regular thing I do at the public places – watching people. People are actually the most variable part of that cafe and the most important. Because it speaks for itself. Both times it was like a time machine into the past – talks and types of the girls around were surprisingly the same as it was many years ago. (I don’t mean a type of wear they took but sort of talk they had) While quantity didn’t change they got (I presume) that dump sense of involvement in the western world. An awkward pretty girl had done all she could (make-up, clothes, and location-cafe) to be like “them”. But the magic hadn’t happened. That wasn’t enough to immediately become a part of “that” world and thereafter be happy. Faking felt around quite sharp.
The more time I stay here the clearer reasons why I was eager to move on become. There are no good or bad towns but suitable for you personally or not. Not a moral problem.
But at the field of the preparation, I’m (yes) diligent and hesitating. Sometimes I can legibly hear a teeny tiny voice speaking to me that’s it’s all a silly idea and I am not able to endure this all properly and will only decrease. I cannot imagine the whole study process containing a pile of information. Plus to this, I’ve got some creative ideas outside the institute’s walls. While I’m free I think easily. (But I still despise drawing)