Future is now

I’ve finally watched Three Thousand Years Of Longing and I’m obsessed with the cinematography and the way it’s cut. The picture is breathtaking, the timing is precise. And Tilda Swinton is, of course, as always a goddess.

Truth be told, as a person with linguistic background, I was especially tickled by the main character’s professional field, as well as some her insights. Others, however, were not as fun. Especially when the heroine said that literary people don’t know anything (I’m paraphrasing a bit). I truly believe this stereotype should stop being perpetuated.

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It’d been an honoured tradition of mine to write a post here whenever I’m feeling down. I neglected it for quite a while but now I feel it’s time to return to my roots so to speak. 

I actually feel guilty about posting anything here when it seems like the world is on fire and people are dying every day in this senseless war. However, I’ve made a commitment to put myself first regardless.

What I’ve been pondering lately is what I would like to do with my life. And at 27 I still don’t have a clue. It’s like everybody around me has dreams, and I’m just riding along with the stream. I left behind my scholarly and political aspirations, and I’m trying new things, but I’m no closer to finding an answer other than «I wanna do something creative». I know that eventually I’ll come to something, but this is just so frustrating and the process seems never-ending.

The whole thing is new and exciting and terrifying as hell! For the first time in my life, I’m all on my own (the sister doesn’t really count). To tell the truth, I wanted to continue my education. I still do. The problem is, I didn’t get in. So, I have a year to lose, if, of course, the university which was my first choice doesn’t reopen. If it does I’m gonna work my ass off to get in. For now, however, I have to find a respectable job, preferably not serving fries McDonald’s, and try not to forget everything I’ve learned in the past years. 

For some reason, at the moment everything feels a lot like the first time in summer camp. Especially the part where you cry and for your mom. Only this camp lasts much longer and no one forced me to go here. Well, and the whole responsibility thing. Like I said, terrifying. 

But I do hope, strike that, I KNOW that everything will turn out just great. I’ll just have to make some effort.