It is 2 weeks ago that I have written something. Why is it so hard to write about something if you are caught in everyday life? Does anthing exciting happen to me the last couple of weeks?
I did work. I tried to get my rent togther for the next month, I tried to spent not that much money on things someone wouldn’t really need. I only bought food for survival, nothing beside. I got ready for my teaching lessons, studied for my exams and went to the gym. Read books and watched some TV. And met some friends, actually, only one friend.
Should that be life? Or is there something else?
Yes, there is. I prepared my future. I asked for help to apply for the PhD in the States, I tried to figure out at which Uni’s I really want to apply to and came to the conclusion of three. A magic number by the way. Not only in life, fairy tales and fiction also in religion. (Too many scholasitc studies!!!) Even for acadamic writing you are supposed to use the three chapter methode. What is the magical thing about the number three? Anyway. I would have a lot to say but it is not the right time. So, the fact is, I prepared the life I dream of and this is of course a bubble which can explode every second.
Do I feel satisfied, right now?
I have to admit. I am. I’m not sure why. But in the moment everything seems right. The weather is nice, not too cold not too hot. The people around me are nice. The struggling for the rent, with the classes and through the gym seems to fulfill my present life. Even I have pleasure pondering above my exam reading list, and I’m still trying to improve my english grammar, especially for the sentence structure. What is this all about? Why do I don’t miss anything. And anyway what should I miss.
I’m clear and concious about all my feelings and still I feel there should be something else. Is that the notorious seeking for the reason of life? I’m not sure but on thing I have to resume: Right now I feel good even if other people might think that I’m lonely. Isn’t that strange?
