The whole day I was within four walls observing the storm outside and lamented about broken internet waves. Lots of distraction among learning eighteen century’s history. There were too much silence and loneliness in one room. Even for me. Sometimes I deal with this condition happily, but sometimes it pushes me down.
I went out for a stroll at the VDNHa. There were much destroyed around by the storm. That was one of my melancholic moods. Sounds were amazingly low, but I couldn’t hear my own thoughts though. My way led through the park to the Botanic Garden. Even there among the trees and birds, my own voice kept silent inside. Sometimes we just don’t like the way we are in spite of all the possibilities and dreams. Right here and right now it’s all far from desired. And among the marvelous trees which smelt like a rainforest, the inner deceive is almost impossible.
But there is the magic of the town at the end of the walk. The pond and trams at the spring evening. My eyes could see better.
This study week can be called finished, and I’m really happy about this. It was incomparable difficult for me in an emotional way.
Since the roommate appeared on the night of Tuesday I had problems with sleeping and keeping calm. I couldn’t sleep well as far as she was up until five o’clock. At Wednesday I got up at 5.30 as I wanted and she went to bed in five minutes after that. During all the days staying up and talking to people seemed enormously hard almost impossible. The whole being looked unbearable. Talking to people I don’t like, sitting at the lectures while the teacher is remembering conversations with celebrity, hiding my real position about all stuff and restraining myself almost every minute from all wanted. Coffee at McCafe, some new books, new equipment, ticket home and immediate death of the roommate.
But I satisfied myself in a wish. That was a skip of the anatomy lesson and walk at the Chistye prudie, tiramisu at the cafe near HSE and visit to the bookstore. However, in the evening I felt cracked, tired as much physically as emotionally. All I wanted is to go home and do worth things. Shiny chain of the cars was in a hence home while the storm was to begin. I was sitting at the dirty windowsill at the lower floor and crying to the phone. Very pathetic but that was honest. I watched Downton Abbey as a fairy tale before sleep and got a sedative.
The nest day wasn’t happier. Instead of my favorite Art history, we were to attend the conference which basically was boring and meaningless. However, I handed the pictures for the technique mark and made a maquette for the perspective. But that’s all. There still was a tiresome and disgust. Today I went for painting as million times before and thought about all those things around.
Today I went for painting as million times before and thought about all those things around. I don’t know, that’s all became unbearably boring and burdensome. Nastya lost her temper in the morning and we all got she was upset about something. We talked about different things basically empty. There were a usual chaos and humor. I couldn’t share their enthusiasm about Sasha’s birthday but was there. He brought a lot of deserts to celebrate it and girls ordered the pizza. All was fun and friendly but I couldn’t honestly share that emotionally. And I don’t know where the hours went out. Pity.
It’s only a month and a half before the ending.
The days I spend on wandering to and fro are too excessive and influential to let them just happen. I can perceive (not just understand) the stream of time going in one direction. That’s why it makes me totally angry, upset and perplexed. That’s why sitting down to make mastery’s tasks I drink a few more cups of coffee, refresh the playbill and wash some dirty clothes. I’m bad at day-to-day motivation and hard-working on something alienated. But I still have to pass the exams and do everything as good as possible.
By the way, I browsed universities sites and watched YouTube video. That is how time may be wasted. I must come back to the idea that only losers kill their time at social media, watching series and Instagram feed. The people I usually adore don’t use their resources in such a way. It’s simple, isn’t it? The problem is the dream. It did push me forward for a long time but now I’m kinda between the places. The general activity of the study doesn’t work on the dream and after that, I usually need some distraction to come back to myself. And time goes further and further this way. I start to feel lost and dissatisfied by myself.
Yesterday Vlad turned to me in the conversation about socialism and capitalism allegedly I could know that all perfectly well. That was a hesitation and shyness. Recently I enjoy his talks, jokes and being in the room basically. Is it a sign of some feelings? I’m not sure. I can control myself quite well and consciously. But the same time I’m opened for something new.
What a strange day of damp deep gray streets and sadness above all the events. There was an early getting up and productive history lesson (though I didn’t answer questions). But then at the painting, I dived in the process. All waited for Vlad who promised the cakes for today’s celebration. When he came it appeared that he did the cakes by himself at the slow cooker. WOW – was a reaction of all the girls and me.
The celebration itself was actually ok. Certainly, it didn’t make me happy or anything else. It still is rather an obligation for me. Now it heavens with food preferences. The teachers brought the cakes too, and champagne with the appetizer. It was too much. Is alcohol at the midday such a good idea? Maybe from their angle. I diluted it with juice but felt it’s wrong yet. The atmosphere was easy-going, I could hear some close talks at the both sides of the table. But still, it seemed to me boring for some invisible reason.
Afterward, I painted more than usual and left the workshop to rest from all that heaviness. I went out a bit earlier than all as I hadn’t a cartoon for the study. At the hostel, there remained no desire to invest into mastery but to do lovely things. What a dilemma! Being a good student or being joyful.
I need some private life, some people of the institute to go out, talk and drink tea. Sometimes it’s simply terrible to sit in front of the screen in the evenings, without anyone lovely besides.
This day must be excellent but a bit stressful. The result came out a bit different from my expectations. Recently my enthusiasm about some little stuff is high in the mornings. And today it was the same. I wake up early, just two minutes before the alarm clock (but slept an hour more) The first lesson was the best one – the training. And it’s quite easy to come downstairs and make exercises. As I speak to myself now “The universe itself wants me to have a good fit, and it’s a sin to ignore it” And this idea makes me absolutely happy about the obligation which makes some people moan.
After the gym, it was even more easy to feel the lightness of the holiday. At the lift, I was speaking with one animator and got her passivity about the visit to the museum.
The workshop was empty and two girls who were there didn’t have any enthusiasm about drawing. All wanted to eat the promised heap of pancakes. I was going to and fro. It turned out that one boy was left without a gift because of us. We went down to buy a book but there wasn’t any suitable. Our plan to give him a cake failed for a reason of lack of communication. That was a terrible situation when two of three were gifted but one left neglected. We ate and drunk, I even tried scotch (terrible). The conflict arose afterwards.
That was such a terrible unexpected and distracting situation that I couldn’t make out how to behave. The complicated machine of ethics and profits stuck inside me. Toilet, Instagram and breathing. It was a silent decision to shade away. The passivity and silence while my course mates spoke politely to Sasha about the ins and outs of happened. All was to persuade him in our innocence. To say shortly, it was a philosophy study case. Finally, the other girls bought him a book – something strange. I gave a part of the money. All went down.
But I was talking to Vlad about different American and British accent, we listened to each other. (My inclination to British was clear) That talk with the duration of a few hours made me feel so happy. It was hard for me to grasp quickly, I did forget the thought I wanted to say. (I become stupid while he is speaking so good – bad calls)
I went out quickly and booked an English lesson – that was really motivating for me just to talk about English with someone.
Tomorrow I will go to Moscow and this wonderful time of reading “what I want” and caring about yourself “as I like” will have come to end. I cannot believe it and again naively believe in spare time, going out and reading press as I do now. Certainly, I won’t be able to read the V.Woolf’s diary as my constant heartwarming shelter. I do like diaries at all – some sort of real life of people who remained a mark in history and then the mark become their public face, but not truthful.
The English stuff today went not usual as it wasn’t expected to forget the last topic. So I tried to focus and outline the information inside my mind. The mental palaces are helpful, I use the place on the bay to put information on. Despite its long-term efficiency the process isn’t fast and doesn’t seem as productive (in a way of production) as reading million times and making notes.
The going out today was short – just a purchase at the Mall. But the weather was astonishingly great: the sun with blue sky and orange colour in trees. There is no music at the cell phone and no opportunity to avoid old neoclassic tracks. I needed some sounds to break the silence and make some various ways of thinking. As fast as I went back and tried supplies for the binder I’d got it was a foolish whim to buy A5 binder for planning. I filled in the black-year-old binder with sheets and wrote some lists. And such kind of stuff is actually the content of my day.
And such kind of stuff is actually the content of my day. Certainly, I thought a lot about life and study, I listened to another webinar on studying abroad, but hadn’t finished – too common and at the moment too far from me. I read the book for the mastery task and some articles. At the bath, there was a joy of reading press about the modern innovations and business perspectives and achievements at them. The technical development made me frustrate and ask them all about a human being in that robot oriented world of spare time and intuitive gadgets. Isn’t it an investment into the global
The technical development made me frustrate and ask them all about a human being in that robot oriented world of spare time and intuitive gadgets. Isn’t it an investment into the global loss of people in their lives? I mean that the ready world with easy passive entertainments doesn’t challenge people, doesn’t make them discover the new. (e.g. that the car has engine and other stuff when it’s broken in the middle of nowhere). I’m afraid that the world will be totally different in twenty years. And it’s strange to find out that I haven’t thought about this which means I’m not ready to see people who cannot imagine live without the internet connection and social media. It’s a long talk.
Though I have found some options, some tiny paths out of the current situation, the anxiety is still here. Compare to the easiness of risky way, the way of compromises is tough in its psychological angle. There is twice more work and worries of student life and with all my rationality it’s not so easy to persuade the body in the happy ending. As far as the reluctance to be in the same position freeze and upset me greatly I should change my lenses and look at the light instead of darkness.
The whole position is odd, make one thing to get another result which is kind of stupid idea. Nobody dances to be able to read. Crooked ways and paths require a good driver with excellent GPS. I know I shouldn’t worry that is waste of time and nerves.
And what is the result of painful, restraint and devastating discussion of my plans for the future? What are the final decisions? These are the reason of my inner anxiety and headache today. I keep amazed by the words people speak to each other. How surprising, disappointing or encouraging it can be!
My mom drew a line with the conclusion that I’ll fail exams and get into vague space of nothing. Which means for her the only remained option – get married and bring up children. (Bravo!) Also, it appeared that she reckons my common level as basically insufficient for a total change of profession. This is fair, but not final. And all those years could be either waste of time or not.
Ok, I type and cry the same time. It psychologically hard to find a place in my mind for another term’s concerns. I try to select the good whodunit for the mastery and mull over all the aspects of the minor study. Strategy, priorities – such kind of things. I need to figure out my own intentions.
P.S. Ok, I’ve just read the documents on the transfer from one institute to another and my hope had appeared again.
The sultry air of the room and the complete darkness made me feel odd when I woke up at seven. Then the typical getting up at nine. The breakfast with a greipfruit, coffee and sweets. I do really love drink hot coffee and study vocubulary on Anki at the morning, it certainly make me feel clear.
The one point I got for the last days is that I should not cut the insiring ideas out of my mind just because of its impossibity. London inspire me for action though I am aware of impracticabily of living there. Does it matter if it make me straighter, more clever and vivid? I permit myself to say no.
Sure, there are many works to do over the simple desires to study English and other things. The bad weather is so suitable for staying at home with paper and brushes. The next week is going to be stressful as well as the other. So I should put myself together and just make it all good.
Such beautiful pictures in the purple haze of optimism and inner aspiration to come pictures true. Pictures of places, actions and possible complications. All that went to my mind in the grey lit room with a cup of coffee and some YouTube videos about study.
Even when I came to the art department with the white wave paper it seemed magical. Allegedly, I was in the college I coloured and stretched the paper, talked to people easily and jumped to and fro in the desire to actively do something. The sets were not excellent to avoid my criticism, but good enough to draw. I started with the charcoal and did everything as I knew. The teachers went to suggest something, but recently I was insensible to all their advice (not good argumentation). I do by the ideas put into my head at the college and I am not to alter or even adapt to someone’s vision. It hasn’t the price it require.
After the lunch the scandal repeated. The boy asked the sitter to pose for him at the long break so when I came back from the canteen they were working again. After that the sitter hurried out the workshop to smoke and eat. (What!!) But he unyildingly replied that he’d been sitting enough to get a break. And people were embarrassed. All tried to figure out how that happened. In a moment the fire was flamed. Mary cried on Sasha and he cried on her. But the point was clear, Sasha neglected the common agreement for a schedule and stirred everything. To understand how that was going I should say that both fucked each other twice or more, cried at each other. Finally Mary tried to calm down and pressed him saying she’s not going to cover him for skipping the lessons. And all went on the bad language level. I was standing in a shock, thinking what to do and either it worths interacting. Finally, they quarreled, we all kept tense silence and the sitter was getting his lunch.
The rest of the study I rather forced myself to draw than positively (as the first hour was) tried to manage that faster. Me, Mary and our female sitter were analysing the boy’s behaviour and possible future strategies to avoid the open conflict. We changed the topic and some way begun to discuss me. The sitter said I was updated as I’m aware of some ideas. The minute after the flattering I asked them to stop praising me. The respond was kind of clever in the context. She said I’m afraid of being in the spotlight. It struck me immediately and the finish of talk I can’t remember. Basically it’s true. I’m afraid of attention. The evident drawback is luck of male attention and opportunities to be noticed. I did contemplate on this idea the rest of the day and understood the roots but didn’t got the healing.
As the day finished, the damp street and electric light let me breath and remember the morning vision. The real stuff is kind of distracting. It’s not the meal I’d like to feed myself.