Eight A.M. Lectures Are Unnecessary

  

  Could someone do me the favour of shooting me?

  Would it be considered rude to pull out my spanking-new Sedaris and read? Probably not—I am sitting at the back of the lecture hall—, but I'd be judged by my neighbours, and I am just not ready for that kind of social pressure. Not now when I am going through my people-free phase. To be fair, though, how people-free could I really be whilst sharing the same kitchen and lavatory as a friend and being too well-mannered to turn around and not answer when someone asks me something at university in their adorable Austrian accent. Did my parents have to give me a good upbringing? Why couldn’t I have had two heroin addicts as my parents, who had slightly more pressing issues than their child growing up without the respectable amount of comity?

At least, I am writing this blog post, so not everything is in vain, even though I still consider eight a.m. lectures quite unnecessary. It’s not like anyone is actually listening. 

  I read this interesting observation in Goldberg’s Writing Down The Bones: women, more than men, frame their sentences as questions. We seek constant validation by doing so—an affirmation what we believe is true. This made me analyse how I use language and ta-fucking-da! My sentences often embody the interrogative form. So do most of my female friends. For the past week, every time I catch myself doing that, I stop and remove the question-bit of the sentence. 

  
  Another thing women employ more than men are words like appear, seem, might, I feel, etc.—another sign of unassertiveness. Passiveness, even. 

It is fascinating how a simple sentence changes if you take out a few words. 

This conversation is quite redundant, isn’t it? 

  Now, take out the last two words. 

This conversation is quite redundant. 

  Different, right? Now, take out one last word: quite. 

This conversation is redundant. 

  Read that last sentence again. 

  And again. 

  Be honest. Whom did it sound like? 

  It sounds like a certain type of person—a certain type of man. 

Doesn’t it?

INNSBRUCK.

So today I had gone to Innsbruck with Kevin, and although we missed two trains (one in the morning and one in the evening) it was pretty amazing. When I say amazing, I do not mean life changing, just mean fun. As the day proceeded we found out that I have an ice-cream dance (Eistanz), and we discovered a new instrument- The Hang. This one guy had been playing this soulful melody as he sat on a chair outside a shop in this one small quiet alley in an otherwise loud Innsbruck.

We also visited the university and basically just walked through the city.
Weirdly enough it did not feel as if we were in some foreign city, it felt as if we were a part of the city. I guess this is just how a big city makes you feel.
The other thing that I realised is that I maybe miss living in a city. This city felt more like home to me than the place where I stay. Maybe it felt like this because I had a friend by my side cracking stupid jokes and laughing at my antiques.

Then, after we missed our train back home, I dragged Kevin back into the city because who would want to sit in the train station for the next two hours. Well, me. I won't lie, the temptation to just sit in the McDonald's there was present but I was not ready for the day to get over just then. I wanted to see the city once more.

I guess, when you see enough places in life, you realise, that all of them are essentially the same, the only difference lies in how and with whom you experience them.

In Love With The Idea Of Love.

I just realised that the reason I don't want anyone special in my life is because I'm in love with the idea that somewhere out there, there is someone meant for me to find. I guess, I am a hopeless romantic after all. I'm so in love with this idea that even if love does come knocking on my door and is staring me in the face, I would probably slam the door shut in it's face.

Maybe I like this idea so much because it makes life feel longer. It ignites in us the hope that there is still one more chapter unlike any other to come, that would change our lives.
I'm not sure if this tendency is self-destructive or rather romantic. I think, a little bit of both.

Dornbirn Weihnachtsmarkt 2015

Which brings me to the other question: what should I do about "I"?

I like him, but I like me more.
I like being alone. I am more productive that way. I guess, I'm just in love with the idea of being alone.

Sounds weird, right?
I know.

A few months back, I could have sworn that I just wanted that one person who would be willing to be there and put in the time and effort. Something changed in me after I came back from India, after the summer vacation. I can't put my finger at what exactly changed.

In the beginning, when I could not imagine myself being in a long term relationship with anyone I thought that something in me had broken. Now, I think that something actually fixed itself inside me. Something that probably wasn't even broken to begin with, hell, it probably didn't exist. It's more like a piece of the puzzle that had been missing, was finally put in place. Hence completing the puzzle.

Luschnouar Christkindlemarkt 

It is weird as to how much has changed in a year, and how almost nothing has changed. This time last year, I was still heartbroken, trying to get my life in order. Although not heartbroken, I'm again trying to get my life back on track. Oddly enough, not knowing what I'll be doing same time next year, pleases me.