Moscow application 2017

After the kind and lovely film with Jim Carey, after the strange dream at five a.m. I opened eyes at Moscow suburb. There was warm springy Sun and people were slowly going somewhere. Finally, I felt nothing but some faint romantic relief in my breast. The closer I was to the hostel tenser I became. At the dark room at a half to eight, there was my unpleasant roommate. But moreover, her being there, her things were put on my bed in some terrible disorder, there were lots of sacks everywhere. OK, I just had no desire to lecture her, so I was simply angry. Surely, nobody cleaned the common room and the bathroom had become horribly dirty. Someone used my sponge, toilet paper, and dishwashing liquid. Fun isn’t it. That was a point I lost any respect for them. I had to change the room a long time ago and live in a tiny but clean and friendly environment.

Quite strange but my heart was silent while I was going to the Institute (to pay for the hostel) and some thoughts were flawed in my mind. Probably, I exaggerate, but there was an empty space and I couldn’t feel anything warm inside. I didn’t want to be noticed and as fast as I found the cash-desk closed I went away. People who were going there made me feel so different and some kind of lonely.

At the favorite street, I firstly walked a bit to feel that terrific vibes. Then despite all my desire to walk farther, I came back to the library. You know libraries are so good spaces for learning. Even me in a sad state of mind with all those low self-esteem stuff could focus there and just learn something. Before I got hunger I managed many things and came around to the idea of the usefulness of the libraries.

The cafe I came in was as usual wonderful. I took great soap and a potato, I was sitting there “as usual” looking at the people who just had lunch. Only there I could frankly think about changing the wardrobe. Then that was the bookshop where my sense of strangeness was high. I never really buy books. If I buy them it’s never that romantic long process, it’s more like a deal.

Then again library, low self-esteem and the idea that it’s going to fail. At that library, it often comes to my mind that the thing I study is so primary comparing with their exam preparations and other activities. But finally, it’s OK, nobody matters.

After some time I went for a walk at the center. It was shining with Sun and good looking people around. I visited an old bookshop, drunk coffee and ate a burger at the quiet square by the university campus. There was so wonderful sight. And no tourists around. But I must confess that my only and the most important problem is the sharp loneliness. The great city in its blossom but I don’t want anything alone. And I feel even more alienated than ever. Adding the common recent state I try not to cry because of the stupidity of the roommate. Isn’t it silly? I just must work on my network.

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Thursday

That was a bright day with all its little miracles and little disappointments.

Yesterday late evening my roommate came for a night. She brought the spirit of irritability and anger in her sharp manoeuvres. I was preparing the report for the art history and was so absorbed by the content that could hardly pay enough attention to her. But the attendance itself really decreased my clear focus and absolute excitement. That night I could hardly sleep and woke up by either light or noise.  (Now I got that I need to watch her by the other angle. I need to be more open-minded, amicable and philosophically calm. And remember that things happen not with us but for us. Maybe she’s cool and interesting though not my type of a roommate)

At the morning I got away very fast and quietly sat at the swimming pool’s hall with my report. While swimming I perceived that my legs reject to work obediently. But the water had become my ally, not an enemy.

It was a rush to hurry up for being in time on the lesson. But I was late for 5 minutes and had to hear the teacher’s cry. Good start. Finally, after the explanation of exam’s structure, she had set that the only report on the book art was to perform. All others were checked by words. The worst happened.

At the hall on the second floor, I was sitting in stupor came by physical tiresome and the dilemma: go or not to the hostel for the pictures to get the mark on the irrelevant subject or not. Then Vlad came and we talked about fifteen minutes in a very fun way. As I observed after he could make people feel comfortable and easy-going. So was I after that fifteen minutes of light jokes and discussions.

The rest of the day there was no actual work but talking, watching and going to and fro. I should value my time more careful.

Damp Monday

This day could be called miserable by some unpleasant point which begun the previous evening. The whole night I tried as hard as possible to focus and get asleep while the roommate was doing something with the night lamp. It was truly troublesome to make me relax. She went the Saturday night and spent the whole Sunday lying in pyjama in front of the laptop. I, in contrary, had a very busy and active Sunday. But in spite of all my weariness, I couldn’t get asleep and, as a result, today I had circles under the eyes and some tension inside.

I wore the new clothes: light blue jeans and beige cardigan. I must be a joyful moment of beauty. But while I was hurrying for a history lesson, I felt something that every girl wouldn’t prefer to feel in the light jeans. Yes, that was it. Fortunately, the lecture turned out to be a review of pictures and artifacts which are mostly well-known for the art department. I could relax and utter the answers easily.

The way back to the hostel, one part of me guessed that it would be a scene. At the morning I found out crumbs at the kitchen table and moreover the tablespoon stained in my coffee. It was a decision to leave a note with a message kinda “please, clean up after yourself and don’t touch my coffee”. Simple isn’t it. But there was a scene which I didn’t manage to control as polite as it should be.  She assumed me blaming her for all sins. I was so irritated that the phrase “it sounds like an accusation” seemed me even on the way back utterly stupid. I explained her in a most impartial way I could – showing the real way of accusing and cleaning out my intentions and thoughts I wanted her to get. That was and still plain that she took offence and frowned even more. Ethical practice case.

At the way to and fro at the damp gray roads with dripping cars and trams (and everything), it seemed a day when one wants to give up all this stuff called life. When the walls, lifts, people, study look especially terrible.

But at the drawing, I laughed a lot and felt even relaxed for some time. Then it only decreased. The talks appeared illogical, impulsive and primitive. The sitter was out most of the time and I completely lost a zeal to draw hands and foot. I went out at three and on the way got that the roommate can be still there. It looked obvious. And it turned out so. She cleaned up one of my shelves at the kitchen and put there a plastic glass and a box of tea (instead of few cups and a stack of plates). I asked her openly whether she was offended and is everything OK. Her answer No was obviously unclear. Now she is lying in her pajama and, I perceive she isn’t going somewhere out. Not today.