Here we are: facing the last weeks of a life abroad. Feels weird...
First, we experience regrets coming along good souvenirs and wishes which haven't come true. That is a fact.
What about these regrets? There are of many things: socialising, our expectations not met, delusions, shallowness annoying us. Perhaps not as important as the rest: the weather. It has not been that awful from time to time, but the sun has not often shown us its magnificent and radiant grinny face...
Second, we already have souvenirs from the first semester. I certainly can assume that this first semester, despite the lack of daylight duration, particularly from November to January, which was quite dim; this first semester was maybe the better.
Why?
Simply because, you feel you have just been born. Everything is so new and fresh and innocent to you. You simply enjoy life
Pretty much the contrary happened on the second semester. Back to delusions, broken dreams, back to dull and grey reality, boredom, new people, not feeling at my place, makign efforts and having nothing in return, feeling out of place: not enjoying many things any longer. I had lost this sparkle that livened me so much on the first semester. Hopefully, I had so highs, but if you could summarize the second semester as a black film, those highs would like some sparsed splashes of not so brigh pink.
I learnt many lessons from abroad, and this is not the end. My mind is a bit like a sieve, so I should always remember them.
I am not that active here and I wish I were much more.
I have other plans, other dreams. It is just quite hard to dream as I used to.
Quite often from now on I wish I could fly home for soem days then come back to feel "recharged"
I will write a second part to this new experience abroad!
I hope you enjoy the pictures I have uploaded lately,
Sighild











--
Ajraan Feänaro Sîrfalas
--
...oh, fare thee well, you wicked world, I'm going to be good
For the leaves are getting greener, and spring is on the way,
and Girls are getting prettier and younger every day
(Silver in the Stubble trad. irish)
--
Take my hand in the old "Theatre of seven hells"
--
"The world is a stage, but the play is badly cast" Oscar Wilde
--
Ajraan Feänaro Sîrfalas
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