disgust

That is obvious that I’m too irritated about lots of things and it’s not good for me. Only thing I want just to hide at some place where people won’t achieve me. There won’t be any stupid questions directed to me with the pure wish to hear an answer, no comments to which I “must” respond. I’m craving to listen to clever people (or read them). This desire is so normal for me but now it’s felt like my brain is starting to rust. And it comes not only to the brain but also to the aesthetical part of life. I crave for beauty. The autumn’s gingerness, it’s misty air and variety of colors relieved me a bit. However, now when leaves finally dropped down, the trees don’t cover the ugliness of the building. And this upsets me dramatically. People wear their poor not-stylish clothes, there are many ungainly people in the ridiculous outfit. Nonetheless, there is no surprise, it still struck me on the same fragile level as it had been when I was in the fourth grade.

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But the major reason of my irritation is the pettiness of life around. And it’s not gravity, it’s exactly littleness. People aren’t interested, not curious, they are strangely inert about their life (education in my case). And it doesn’t matter how many times would I say to myself “Work with your own life!”, when I see pettiness I often want to throw a spare in them.

Certainly, I don’t want to share my irritation with people but to pour it out. Frequently the major trigger for this condition is me. I’m not satisfied with life, with the way it goes and I see no soon improvements possible. I cannot even imagine a Happy New Year Eve. I see limitations and they gnaw me. Even the simple need of physical activity is impossible because of my cough. So I need to get out of it.

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Today was a busy and noisy day of cleaning up, shopping around and walking through the town.

At the morning we haven’t had our traditional breakfast but delicious coffee and cookies. After that in spite of all my reluctance, we were cleaning up all around the flat. There were so much dust and dirt at the armoires and chandeliers. The endless cat’s wool at the rug which makes the vacuum tough. After all that black dust and ginger wool everywhere I felt weak and tired. But that was not the end, as usual. I made a lunch for us and a bunch of other small things. All I wanted then was the bed. Really, that was the bed. We had good lunch with marinated meat and green beans.

Going out I was a been afraid of all those activities on the streets because I felt too tired to take an active part in those. We watched the old-school cars, the city special equipment and how roads were blocked. The workshops and presentations began by the national library where we were talking with a man who initiated plantation of the trees at the burnt or empty land. A woman gave me a leaflet on the speed reading school.

While we were going through all that tables and tents I couldn’t talk to mom properly, my words got lost in the noise. We relaxed at the small pretty cafe at the central trade house (which is not popular now). There were fresh air, cold tasty milkshakes and the whole spirit of calmness. At that center, we tried some perfumes, looked for jewelry and went out again.

The next destination was … another trade center. For a few hours, we were wandering around the racks of clothes. Strangely, but it’s really hard to understand what do I want while shopping with mom. We have different tastes but what is more important we have different financial status in such situation. And it bothers me, it makes me ascetic. Another point is that I don’t like mass markets and I don’t like to spend scarce money on clothes.  I’d prefer small shops. Big problem! I know this!

The town was joyful when we went out there. There were young boxers, basketballers, wrestler, some interesting dancing classes, stand-up comedians (which weren’t funny) and non-professional singers. At the bay, the fuss was noisier and less interesting though quite colorful. We were pretty tired and soon went away to have a dinner at the local cafe. That one evidently became poorer with time and lost the former secularism.

Though I had many thoughts and ideas during the day it seems so tiresome now, after hot tea, evening news and the whole day on foot.

Reflecting at the cafe

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.

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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)

2/10. May holiday at home

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.

good old Sunday evenings

So Sunday is losing its power above everything and concede a place for another study week. I’m in the usual for weekend’s evening after-bath mask. There is a good old comfort of Sunday evening which reminds me school time when we went to the bookstore with parents and made dinner with the noise of comedy show or news. I was reading much more than now.

But surely this day as a few before wasn’t congenial at all. Even today I went out of the room just for “not being in the room alone”. I had delicious noodles for lunch, bought two nice t-shirts at the Russian shop and a stylus for the phone. Even when I went down to the supermarket I could hardly be logical on my own (here we are! ) sadness. It went out of the lack of control over my own life on the day-to-day basis. There is no option of modification or deviation. I have to do what is to be done for the session. And it could be nicely endured by me if it wouldn’t take almost all the time with some dull connections and useless talks. I hate meaningless, and it’s the point. I must remember.

However, as I felt killing time was not my main reason for melancholy, the main one was a well-known sense of loneliness. How unique! My position of double life helped a lot in alienation. People aren’t dull, they see tribesmen. At the supermarket, I saw peripheral vision a known girl standing in the queue. It was like the invasion into my Sunday routine. I run away and hurried up to not to meet her again. Talks and smiles, you know. Nastya is quite happy in her successful private life in the new room. Which is nothing with me at all.

Certainly, I’m going to visit home at the vacation – it’s too hard for me to endure the whole time though I know it’s a good test. But, yes, it’s good to remove some things.

Finally, I cannot throw the study on the road and move forward without, I need to put it into the proper place, get papers and move forward.