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.
The Sun is shining once upon a time. My slowness is all about the preparation or particularly the six days of preparation in a row. I know this all fundamentally good for me but this morning I astonishingly realized that for many years summer time was no more than just a hot time in open shoes. And what is the reason? To say nothing about badly established town’s beaches and parks, which are unchangeable for many years. Every summer I have something to do and that deals obsess me. However, the main reason is not the deals but my strange idea that everyone gets rest, enjoys the life but I still sit over the books and gradually transform into a nerd. That’s what I always was afraid of. And maybe that’s the main reason of feeling strange being at the work table the whole day. Not the summer.
Today is the day of the Republic. It never made me any sense of holiday or whatever. I’ve found the new lecture by Chernigovskya and want to make little shopping.
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)
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.
That was the second day at hometown and home particularly. I was going to write every day but for the reason of tiresome, I hadn’t done it yesterday. These two days we were shopping across the town, we’d been at all the big trade centers and small old ones. Tonight I got that I could not see shoes anymore. My wishes are very concrete and understandable (which makes it more manageable at Moscow rather than here). I’d better overpay for quality and comfort than waste hours and hours in the temptation to find a needle in a haystack. However, I cannot be angry with mom by her hesitation and endless search.
My visit here emerged some thoughts about the capital town as a beautiful and blossoming place. I totally forgot how terribly boring the life here is, how empty the streets and how colorless are rare people. I have no idea where to go out and where to walk despite all the years here. People move less, are less diverse and calmed down in a bad way. There is poor history around here. I don’t know, it’s felt limited and narrow like shallow water where is nothing more than can be seen. And it appeared to me not so evident from the Moscow point of view.
I thought I could hear myself better here but it turned out controversy, there is more noise of routine and narrow-mindedness than I presumed.
I want to be honest with myself and not hide my own laziness and weakness in perspective of the future rereading of these notes.
The whole day I could observe the variety of gray clouds above geometry of housing area. It went to the right verge of the window as well as rare planes flying somewhere from the nearest airport. My sketches were put on the bed in order to be observed, and pencils were at the table to use them directly. I did draw the sketches, yes. But the more frequent move was the escape. It took different forms like watching book reviews, refreshing Instagram, reading the university sites, making tea, eating dried fruits, going to the kitchen to fry the lunch. After the midday, I went to the idea of “just listening” the film which led me to Virginia Woolf’s writing – “The hours”.
After the midday, I went to the idea of “just listening” the film which led me to Virginia Woolf’s writing – “The hours”. Maybe, my vision changed by the influence of constant watching the classic, but it seemed me so scarce and hard to understand that couldn’t believe I liked it years ago.
In a word, the whole day I tried to avoid working on the mastery in a proper way. But the truth is that I must do this and there is no other way but actually working on it. It reminds me the way I successfully avoided some tasks on the book art course; I had them done as quickly as possible in the most concentrated condition (which is the effort, not the mood to wait). So I need to have this done, it’s decided.
Perhaps, I can sound pathetically, but I suppose I need to come back to the idea of the essence of life. It means the understanding of every single day as a part of your own life. Nobody procrastinates in dreams, but everybody achieves. Isn’t it simple? What is great and exciting for me to achieve during this seven weeks? The answer is certainly not “have watched all book reviews on YouTube” or be in touch with every picture on Instagram. Sometimes I really want to turn them off and leave only the Anki-droid and Dictionary. As I understood I totally cannot accept the work on somebody, I need to be responsible and independent. (the bad side of which is inconsistency and uncertainty) I need to feel my own control over my own life.