Losing keys...

The world has its ways
To quite us down
The world has its ways
To quiet us down comes the rain
Down comes our spirits again
But Down comes the strength
To lift us up and then...

Jack Johnson. Losing Keys (from Sleep Through The Static. 2008)

I open up my head inside

Don't hit me, but sometimes I start to think about the existential questions. Not the "where have we been, where do we go, what's the meaning of life?" (Poppy and Happy-Go-Lucky reference) type of questions but more like... what's the purpose of it all?

As you can see, I'm not in the brightest of my moods lately, this is why I start thinking about silly things. Now I've come to the "tragic" fact that as much as I love what I'm doing, I'm not good at it.

I love studying English in the university. I work hard, you know, the geek who I am. But then again I see people coming to the lectures pretty much straight from the pub, and still giving better answers than me! You can only imagine how frustrating it feels. I feel like dropping everything I do, and just pout under the blanket. What's the point of my hard work if it goes unnoticed. Arrggghh! This makes me feel as if I don't try hard enough, and although my health (yes, even my physical health) has been put to a test quite a few times during this semester, I'm still achieving close to nothing. What else could I do? I understand how much more there is to know and it scares me to think that what if I never get to know those things. I don't even know where to start. I've always been the ambitious type but now I see I'm barely average, and it slowly kills me inside. And I can't actually tell this to anyone. They take on look at my GPA, and tell me I'm delusional. Am I? I don't think so. Just because my brain works in a way that exam form of questions and answers suits me doesn't mean that I'm actually good at it.

I know I'm driving myself mad, but I can help it! I've decided not to apply to Canada for an exchange student because I don't feel like it. What's the point anyway, I most probably won't be picked anyway...

Breathe in, breathe out. I'm okay. Really, I am. And always will be. Don't worry.

Temporary stars.

I'd like to write but I feel that my great "tragedy" seems to be that I don't have a great passion or great sorrow to write about. My greatest feelings occupy me when I am reading other people's masterpieces, and they make me realise I'll never be as good. But it is one of my dreams to be able to write a novel. Or even a decent short story. Please understand that I said to write and not to have published.
When I first met one of my current friends, she asked me, which was a greater tragedy: whether to have a talent to write, draw etc but not have an idea, or to have an idea but not gifts to realise it. As back then, I still don't know what to answer. I know I lack of both.

I also wanted to talk about families. Yes, in plural. I think I'm lucky because I have so many different families. What makes a family different from friends? You can choose your friends, but you cannot choose you family. Easy as that. The first family is my mother, father and sister. I couldn't choose them, but they've turned out pretty good. Yeah, we fight, we cry, we laugh, we pull each other's leg... that's all part of it. My second family was the one during high school, M. and H - my "grandma" and my "sister". They were awesome, and made my high school experience even more special. Now I have once again a new family, in the dorm. I couldn't choose whom I am going live together with. But I was once again lucky - K., K. and L. (who, I know, doesn't live with us anymore, but still). Living in the dorm is an experience I'm happy to have. I have a new room mate and we get along but not that well. She hasn't blended in, yet.