Today I had the first exam at this University. The hardest part was in the morning, I had to get up at six and be in a place at 8.30. Long time I tried to persuade myself to sleep more, but then I pushed myself out of the bed and slowly started to get ready. Mom got up too, she cannot sleep after alarm clocks. At the breakfast, I forced myself to eat an oatmeal, though I wanted something new and tasty. The way to the University I was thinking about million things beginning with the thought that didn’t make me sleep at night (it was a wonder: What if Rey will turn to the Dark side at the ninth episode, this would be very surprising) and finishing with the comparison of trees on the hills and the Breighel’s picture.
I run into the hall where group-mates were sitting. It turned out that one girl picked up the documents because of the financial situation. (I’m amazed by a social gap, some pays 450K and think they’re ordinary, some cannot handle 20K but think they’re ordinary too) However, I’d got a good partner for preparing dialogues. In the audience, I felt really strange because there was too much mindreading without any explanations. Finally, we had a short boring dialogue which the teacher didn’t like. I underperformed. After that, I wrote sentences. I was the last in the room and I got four. And I certainly couldn’t care less. Now all I want is to sleep or go out but not to take the textbooks and learn anything. No, please, no.
P.S. Right now I experience an emptiness and timidness of life without star wars. It’s my regular boring life without a spark of creativity. But I caught it, felt an excitement of making up new things and now I feel necessity for this. That’s great to use fantasy, mind and courage to make something.
Today I’ve understood that I finally got sick of this routine shallow life with worries about plastic bags, products, cash and cards, endless questions of the housekeeping. I feel need to eliminate it in my life. I cannot think every time what to cook for dinner or what and where to buy. My Star Wars obsession opened me that almost forgotten the life of thinking. The joy of trying to understand things deeply, get its inner motifs, not just mechanisms to apply. This makes life more profound, more aware. It gives colours.
I couldn’t bare those hours at grandma’s house. To say nothing about talks, I found out that she didn’t really know anything about dinners. I mean, she mixed main dish and a dessert, she put utensils rudely at the centre of the table. She asked me to eat things without any order, without any finishing. And that all is OK for her as far as she is a country child. But I’ve watched so many films with the well-made dinner that I took it for myself. (Yes, I serve ahead and never mix) That’s strange how far from our ancestors we can be.
Both my mom and grandmother talk not well in Russian. I mean that they make curved sentences with many common words instead of descriptive ones. They speak about really simple things, which bore me, greatly. I don’t want to be like they are. I don’t want to have my main focus on routine stuff. But at the same time, I see how little space and triggers are there for intelligent life. The routine tasks are inevitable, I cannot eat only porridge or give up on cleaning up. That’s not an option. I need smartly eliminate it. But how?
It is silent in the room. I have remains the excitement in my head. It tries to think big. Pathetic films allow me to hover above the routine and ponder about life. Immediately things like a choice of bread or fish become pointless. Such rubbish doesn’t matter. I try to fumble an approach to life, the majors are somewhere in the air. I need to catch it. I need a big view on everything, I mean really big not just perspective in the frames of my own life.
Too long I was thinking in limits of my own life, of the practical questions. I want to be myself, to like what I like and not compromise with people. I don’t like outer “trying” to understand in order to be confirmed by society. I won’t “accept” things I do not accept. Different people, different opinions, tastes. I mean I won’t fake acceptance.
The main thing I want is to live my own life, not someone’s else. It certainly contains theatres, films, and other arts, it contains that emotional impact attempts to understand, estimate things through thinking. And I shouldn’t be ashamed by my obsession with fictional feelings, abstract and unpractical matters. I shouldn’t feel any shame for my positive feelings about minor things, however strange or antisocial it looks like. That’s me.
I’m happy, I’m smiling, I feel free. And no matter I’ve just come home from the third viewing of the Eighth episode. I blamed myself a long time, pushed down and forced to not to give in desires. But afterward, I gave my free will space, I allowed myself to not to be adequate and socially confirmed. I did what I liked to. And now I feel free and light. I made a promise to myself to not to read articles about the ninth episode, no theories, no photos at Kinopoisk. I’m going to forget about it for two years and when it comes I will simply watch a trailer and go to the cinema as an obligation without any idea what emotional impact I had.
This morning I’ve got that there is no point in creating a new script in my head. It’s already written by professional script-writers, and I have no power to influence them. I have no control over it, so I’m better to stop supposing, assuming and making up my own story.
Today I have seen emotions, and inner intentions even more clear than before. Surely, I was calm and observant. The freshness of the picture went away as well as those deep emotions I had. Rationality and calmness have stayed.
I was thinking over my first reaction and found out some answers to the questions of my own behavior. I’m truly vulnerable to big emotions, I can feel pain made by people. Therefore I try to avoid pain and other emotions too. Just in case. I can feel an offense or excitement too deeply to stay strong. And emotions are overwhelming, they take a lot of energy (or give it) so it’s easier to escape. Probably, this pattern made me feel connected to the Kylo Ren’s story. Finally, I could see myself in the piece of art.
P.S. When I was climbing up the stairs it just came to my mind that partially Kylo Ren is right. Past must die. But I attach myself so often to the past situations, relationships, and dreams. I know Nastya has her own life without me, there is no place for me. I know it, but I still feel a bit offended by her silence. It hurts me that she hasn’t spoken me anything about her current love relationship (and I know why). I must let it free. Those are her choices, which are not under my control. I must release past when it goes away, and start anew without any regrets and complaints. I’m better to leave the personal failures in the past and goes forward freely.
This is the third day dyed in colours of the interpersonal conflicts of Star Wars. In the morning I had hardly done my exercises, mom switched TV on and I couldn’t tear myself away from the screen. I was watching an old cartoon from my childhood, today they seemed funny and ridiculous the same time. The characters appeared to be slow-witted. But it’s a good memory at least.
I went out for some case at the day, there were hardly some people on the street. Ice covered all the roads making it tough to pass and not fall. After that, at home, I still couldn’t get those thoughts out of my mind. I did my English homework, downloaded music and had a lunch. But simultaneously my mind was wandering around thinking about the characters’ motifs, their perception, reactions, their behavior and possible future actions. My mind tried to foresee a new script with twists and certain scenes. That’s exhausting.
The strange activity recovered me a bit. It’s a search for a sofa at the trade center. Mom and I were going through the shops, sitting on different sofas, wondering about the prices or quality. There were some great sofas for the huge price. When we ate rolls at the food court I confessed that I don’t remember last time I cared about fictional characters so much. She asked something and then tried to change the topic and raised the question of my Moscow study. I dodged from an answer.
At home, I took a bath and dissolved all my thoughts and images in water.
I must confess that I watched the seventh episode and tonight went to watch the eighth episode one more time. I haven’t been so obsessed with the characters and drama for a long time maybe since Harry Potter books.
The second time I went alone and was sitting beside a talkative woman who at the beginning made too loud comments. But thank God she hadn’t talked really much. The audience, in general, seemed to me blunt and blind, they asked wrong questions and made dull comments. But I could take in a film.
Surprisingly, I found out that I hadn’t remembered most of the scenes (I mean exact pictures, dialogues), I hadn’t really seen actor’s faces. That’s why the second viewing was terrific. I could focus on drama even more than the first time. Then I was fully emotionally involved and as a result, had been semi-blind to many things. Yesterday I could follow the eyes and mouths, I could read that huge message characters send us.
That message took a lot of answers to many questions. I saw a proof that it’s wasn’t my emotional mistake to make Ben Solo became strongly tightened with Ren. I followed eyes. Also, some smalls acts or even intentions to act fade away from me the first time, but the second it deepened the characters’ portraits. For example, the scene where we see first the head of Snoke, his halved body and then general Hux looking at Kylo Ren’s body. For a moment he meant to take a weapon and kill him, but he suddenly woke up. There is no loyalty between them only competition. And Hux doesn’t hesitate about it.
Moreover, I finally got the phrases=concepts characters live with. “Let the past die. Kill it. If you have to. If you want to become what you want to be” and others (I saw it in Russian).
I hope it will come out of me soon because it’s really hard to carry that all through myself.
Sometimes I need to pour out my thoughts and feelings. This is such case. Yesterday we went to watch the new Star Wars episode. I hadn’t any expectation but simple desire to watch something interesting. I’d completely forgot effect the previous episode had on me. I forgot how inspired, lighted and worried I was. But yesterday there were just bad seats, 3d glasses, expensive pop-corn and a child sitting beside me. Not a perfect viewing at all. But it turned out to be.
Immediately I was involved in the plot, into the character’s hesitations, searches, and determination. The quantity and quality of dialogues amazed me, especially the ones between Kylo Ren and Ray. Oh, what a frame of them touching hands is! I could follow all those doubts and desires of the main characters (Kylo Ren especially). For me that all was about humans. There was a scene, fight between Finn and some general. One moment his helmet was broken and we could see a human eye inside it. That’s major.
I slept badly last night, when something touches me so deeply I process it inside until I’m done. Even now when I’ve read many reviews and articles by film critics I feel the same excitement and sensation as yesterday. It’s kind of detoxication I always have about the great films. Last time it was The silence by Scorcese.
I’m just from the meeting with the girls. I didn’t want to come but it was an obligation for me to keep up. The first thing I was afraid of was questions about private life and talks about a relationship. Recently I found out that it’s hard for me to verbalize all I think about, to say nothing about sharing. All those New Year decorations and need to buy gifts made me feel so upset. That’s almost reflective for me. Moreover, I can’t see Mary’s success (selling and workshop), it strikes my senses.
What is it for? I mean construction, study, domestic routine, people at the Uni. What this lack of money and constant shame for? What my loneliness for? No life. No problems. No problems, no life.
There was an odd emptiness, though we were in the beautiful valley near the college. We drunk delicious wine with cheese. It doesn’t heal my New Year time blue mood.
Girls were pretty, but I couldn’t speak out on some topics and haven’t really talked. I made jokes, commented and fumbled wine stopper. That’s all. That’s all my role. I spoke kinda confident when we discussed news and no more.
Today is one of those drawling days of Autumn when everything is highly repulsive. I didn’t want to go to the lecture but force myself because of the gathering after. The streets were filling with snow, more and more snow every minute. The houses became cold and distant, the view out of the trolley-bus blurred. All the way to and fro I tried to clean my mind and got a view.
At the cloakroom, an attendant refused to take my hat and a boy beside twice grabbed it to try. I couldn’t stand it and emotionally and unwillingly cried something like “Why people are so wild here?”. The boy answered, “It’s university”. Rubbish isn’t it. At the back benches of an auditorium, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. During the lecture on local history, I was forcing myself not to yawn.
She was talking about roots and the idea that finally, we must know the tribe we behold. Another time I found out that it’s not that evident to me to attach my own self to the idea of tribe. Even when she asked about belonging to the certain district I had no instinct to raise a hand. Strange.
There is the danger to fall down to little depression, there is an abyss full of potential triggers for sadness. I looked through apartments, houses, draw a bit (which helps a lot). The evening is good.
The Sunday has almost finished and it’s a pity. Again there is five days before the next weekend. Tomorrow I will go to Dean’s office to be dissected because of my absence. I will tell that this behavior won’t continue anymore, I will ensure her some way. Maybe there will be their manipulation, pressure on me, tough words, an approach like I’m nobody but a piece of shit and other harsh tricks. It seems to me that it repeats again like I had already had the similar situation. And I actually had at least twice.
I’m tired of languages. Or it’s better to say I’m tired of this type of monotonous, boring, timid study. I feel dead. The Friday’s occasions were the clear signs of the teacher’s unhealthy nature. In parallel, I’ve got that I cannot work for other people at all, I need autonomy and initiation. There is no sense of doing something if I haven’t consciously come to this myself. I’m sick of the system got down from someone ahead. I like to be an initiator of the process (or at least some elements) but not it’s executor.
But I must demand myself firstly. There is no hope, no reliance on the outer world with teachers, systems, and strange people. The only person who is really concerned about my education is me. Nobody cares more.