Greetings from the other side of the world

Since it's been quite a while that I've written something in this blog, I thought I'd update some of my thoughts here. My exchange blog covers everything I do and experience here, but having some free time now, I thought I'd do some reflecting. Which I haven't done much since I arrived, so maybe it's about time!

It's funny to think how different everything is compared to two months ago. Where I was, physically and mentally, seems to be so far away. Going from the state of passive waiting, putting off or not concentrating on things "because I'm leaving soon", arriving to an adventure. In a way it seems like something temporary, which is its, but in the sense that "I can do whatever now, and then I'll go back to my life". However, at the same time, it does feel like a whirlwind part of that life, a part that keeps showing me my realities, teaching me about myself and life, and something else too. I am struggling with explaining what this experience and this time here means to me, but maybe it's because I won't really understand it completely until after I've returned.

I feel like the same me I was in Finland. I have noticed that some of my tendencies or characteristics are somehow reinforced here, I feel as if they are much more clearly a part of me here than before. Also, I've realized that what I knew about myself has largely been very true; what I need on a daily basis and what I like and believe in I find comfortingly the same. But I know that when I come back I will have changed, maybe already have. I see some things differently, I appreciate things I didn't understand to appreciate before. Also, I've never listened to as much Finnish music as I do here, which is sort of funny. But it is very comforting in a way, familiar, it makes me feel connected to the place that is so far away now.

One thing I am really glad about is that it's finally happened, Spanish has reached the stage of "speak first, think later". Texting and speaking in Spanish comes naturally now, and even though at times I struggle to find a word or to explain something complicated, I more often find a way to do it in Spanish, without pauses or switching to English. I've even accidentally used Spanish words when talking in Skype with my family, which I consider a good sign. Writing this text, also, comes with pausing to think of the English equivalent to some Spanish words. My brain is on the Spanish channel and I love it.

People sometimes talk about the cliché of traveling to find yourself. I don't know about that, but I can say that distance helps to see things in a new light. I have gained perspective, and even though I sometimes miss home like crazy, I am really glad I came here. The adventure happens on two levels; all the trips I've had and will have, the mountains, the jungle, Macchu Picchu, Chile, Bolivia, to mention a few, and then the adventure inside; what I think and how I feel. And the best part of that adventure is smiling when seeing all the things you would have never thought you'd see and doing all the things you would have never thought you'd do and thinking I'm the luckiest girl in the world. And I'm happy.

Under the same stars

I climbed to the terrace on the third floor, and felt the cool breeze, which was the most welcomed greeting. I looked around the darkening evening and saw houses of strangers, lights of traffic and the shadow of the sun. I looked up and I saw the stars, and I was calm. I think this is it, this will be all I needed and all I could never even ask for. 

Since I arrived here in Lima on Wednesday morning, it's been like an emotional roller coaster. I've seen a lot already, I've struggled in the heat but I am still grateful to be in the summer and I've met people who will most likely become a lot closer to me during these few months. I've felt excited, scared, grateful, insecure, happy, sad in so many shades, and I've only been here for five days. It's been quite the culture shock, I have to admit. At times I feel like I'm living the perfect life, at times I feel so distant to myself, like I don't recognize this person trying to adapt to this life here.

One week down, twenty more to go and I am confident that those following ones will show me things I've never seen, places I couldn't have even imagined to visit, people who will become important and experiences that teach me things about life and myself. 

I breathed the cool air, and decided I will survive this. I am here, this is real and happening now, and as much as I still sometimes can't believe it, I am. And I reminded myself that even though I am far from home, I am under the same stars.




www.maisanmatkablogi.blogspot.fi 

So that's my day

Today I did not get up from the bed. Correction, I tried, and went back. In fact, I did technically leave it a few times, once even to go to the grocery store 20 meters away from my building, but it does not count. I was feeling a bit sick, so I thought best to make sure I don't waste my energy. So, lying in bed all day, I had a lot of time to think. Did I learn something? Did this "break" have a hidden meaning?

Nope. Watching ten episodes of Pretty Little Liars does not count as deep thinking, nor figuring out any grand life lessons. Basically, it was a waste of a perfectly good day to dwell in an imaginary world.

So anyway, I'll try again tomorrow. I had so many plans for today, which would have cut my to-do list to half, at least. But when you can't you can't, besides, I'll be off across the world in two weeks so I'd better have the sickness now. Which I actually didn't even have, just a feeling. I've got lots of stuff coming up soon so I hope it is over now, I mean if it was a reaction from the vaccinations, shouldn't it be over soon?

But wow, yeah, I'm actually going to be in Peru in 13 days. How scary is that?

The countdown is about to start...

It's been a while. I've been busy with all sorts of things, doing nothing among others. No, seriously, there's a book exam I've been studying for which I can't really make sense of, hope that a revision night with a friend will shed some light on the issues. I'm also organizing a conversation workshop at my old junior high school, which has occupied my mind a bit recently. But luckily, on Wednesday it'll be over and on Friday the exam, and then I can start concentrating on getting my life here in order for the big move, and starting to say goodbye.

Which is sort of silly, 'cause I am coming back in five short months. Still, it has started to really hit me that it's not just a light two-week vacation, after which I go back to the old routines. I am actually moving again, my new address just happens to be situated far, far away. And after that, I hope I'll be mostly the same but also a bit different. It's been pretty emotional for me these past few weeks, but I know that it'll be totally worth it in the end.

I am the kind of person who can't do something like this very lightly. I care so much about everyone around me as well as my personal habits and ways of doing things, that this will be a big adjustment. I start pondering it all in my head and it gets totally out of hand, like "I am definitely going to get lost at the airport" and "I wonder if they even have any of the same groceries at the store there", but then I try to think about the fact that so many others have done the same thing before, and they've all done just fine. But of course, the new things can be scary, and they are, especially for someone slightly obsessed with controlling things like me.

Say something or nothing at all

The meaning of this blog to me comes in phases. Sometimes it's my public diary, so I can have the feeling that maybe someone is hearing what I am thinking, sometimes it's a status update. Sometimes I could write page after another on a theme that starts expanding in my head, other times I start with an opinion and after pondering it I come to the opposite conclusion and delete the whole thing, 'cause what was the point of it then?

My inspiration used to come from things I had never said before, but then my life started to fall into patterns, which didn't make meaningful messages anymore. Then the inspiration turned to emotions, which at least the past year or two seem to have derived from either excessive. Sometimes too dark, sometimes too exhilarated. Sometimes just simply too existential to bare to the world.

Now then, what do I write about? I've never minded opening up and pouring my heart out in a written form, granted that it's been in cryptic ways and mysterious tones. But now I feel like I have to hold it back, not let go of it for I might set something free that won't be given back to me repaired. If and when the inspiration emerges in melancholy, I stop and stare at the blank screen; this is not the only side of me, but I cannot create something beautifully meaningful about the regular, the ordinary and the stable. I feel the need to explain myself for the blue thoughts, but I can't and I won't, and I can't write it anymore. What if I did and it didn't solve anything?

Maybe I'm changing. I've relied in people so much that I've been losing the sense of responsibility to myself, and perhaps now I'm taking it back. Maybe a thought is sometimes best valued by hiding it in my own castle.

I admit, even I am guilty of trying to make the change of the year into something special, a magical push of the button rewind or fast forward with no questions asked; I take it back. If we just said what we needed to say, did what we needed to do and felt what we needed to feel at the right time, we wouldn't need the promise of a new beginning or a fresh start. We'd make our own magic by being honest and seeing how the power of it can make the change that we wish over and over again, not really ready to make any changes after all.

New beginning, once again

"...but these stories don't mean anything, if you've got no one to tell them to..."

Basically, it's just a normal day. Nothing special, I don't even feel different. But it's the last one of the year, tomorrow it'll be another year and another beginning.

I'm not doing anything special this new year's, just hanging out at home. We'll go to sauna, eat, watch ice hockey and shoot some fireworks. Simple, and I like it. I don't have to really do anything, which suits me well. My brain is totally on a vacation mode, especially since on Sunday I gotta start cramming for a book exam on sociolinguistics, yay!

For the past few years this time of the year has been filled with excitement, and this year is no exception. Once again I'm thinking that the next year will be the best of my life, and it is, and then I top that with the following one. I just hope this pattern can keep going on like this, that there's no limit when it can't get any better. But with what's coming in two months, I have a feeling that the one to come might just be number one for quite a while.

2015 has been full of experiences, good and bad. Emotions, trips, friends, memories; I'll remember them for a long, long time. I am grateful for this year, as it hasn't been among the easiest; however, it's been a good thing. I've learned a lot, among other things that I still have a lot to learn. But above all, I do have people to tell my stories to, and that's really all I need to start a new year.

One more day...

...and I can go home!

This has been somehow a crazy fall, time seems to have disappeared in a blink. But now that I think about it, I've managed to do quite a lot; Spanish studies, board game day at my old primary school, two great concerts, Mom's surprise birthday cottage weekend, my own birthday party, organization work, meetings, events, a cruise, exams... So much everything in a few months, and so much everything in the past two days, that my brain is literally stuck. No wonder I'm having trouble producing this text, even though I've been wanting to write something for a while now.

Anyway, all the work of this semester will be rewarded tomorrow when I have the final task of this year. We'll go to a nearby school to organize a language workshop of Spanish, for which we today made some posters with animals, numbers etc and it was so nice to talk in Spanish for a few hours again, I kind of missed it even though the last time was about a week or two ago.  Funny how you can miss a language, although I assume I'll get used to that feeling in a bit over two months (!!!).

I cannot wait to start my vacation and do absolutely nothing but relax, have fun with my family and recharge my batteries. I am also looking forward to the spring, as I've got many things coming up before I go. As I left the subject organization board I took no time in getting myself the subcommittee chairperson post and very likely I'll join a committee of youth work at my parish, which is just like me. "I will not join anything for a long time now!" Yeah right. Anyway, it's gonna be super fun as there are nice events awaiting as well as the choir I promised to join. I have to say, it was almost accidentally and sort of as a bribe, but now I gotta live up to the promise. We'll see how that goes...

I cried a little inside when I set my alarm for tomorrow as it will cruelly start ringing at 6:15, which is the earliest I've probably woken up all year. But, after a few hours of speaking Spanish to kids I'll get to take a bus ride home. Countryside here I come!

The sweetest dreams

I'm totally a sucker for fairy tales. I cannot explain it, I don't know why I have such a strong reaction to them, but I do. It can be a book, a film, a song, a story someone told me or pretty much anything, I'm sold. The pattern is always the same, and I know exactly how it's gonna turn out in the end, but I cannot help but fall in love with the stories. 

The films I might watch again and again and the effect is never any duller. Every hardship is just as sad, every moment of anxiety is my moment of anxiety, and every ending is just as happy time after time. The weirdest thing is that these fairy tales make me feel happy, which I know is an illusion. However, I can't help myself, I buy it completely.

And even though I understand that it's not real, that the stories sound and seem perfect when in reality they would be painted with much darker colors as well, I believe it. I choose to believe that it is true and it's possible, 'cause how could something so beautiful not exist? How could such a sweet dream be just a lie?

Romantic dramas, romantic comedies, Disney films; they work each time. Maybe it's because I tend to feel other people's emotions so strongly that I live these tales so deeply, or maybe it's because of these tales that I feel the way I do all the time. But still, I'm mesmerized by the intensity of the words, the faces, the parts that are left unsaid. I'm inspired by emotions so strong that they change people, even if they were just acted.

I am a romantic, and in search of my moments I follow the ones of the others, hoping that someday it will be me under the moonlight, smiling like I've never smiled before.

I know I can, so I will

I am a planner, and I like it. It works in my daily life, it keeps me organized. It drives me ahead and somehow helps me stay sane in my crazy schedules filled with activities. But for some reason, the best, most interesting and exciting things that happen to me are almost without exception been more or less sudden ideas that I've made reality very quickly. Starting kickboxing, promising to take on the post of the camp leader with a two-month warning time, applying and moving to Helsinki to study, deciding to leave that and come to Jyväskylä instead, applying for exchange to Peru, just to mention a few. They've turned out to be among the best things that have happened to me, and I've really just gone with my gut on those. 'Cause really, when you know, you feel it to be right, you don't need to think it over and over and make a plan.


And it works, and I am so excited, and yes freaking out a little bit, but I feel like I am making my life happen. I'm taking chances and doing what I love to do, testing my limits and above all, I believe in myself enough to say yes when I feel like it's the right thing for me.

Say hello to the new chairperson of the Subcommittee of International Affairs of the Student Union of the University of Jyväskylä!

Wow, that's a long title. Luckily I might not use it in that extent all the time.

I'll start only next fall, as we're sharing the chairperson's post with another girl. I'll be away this spring and she will be away in the fall, so I guess the arrangement is kind of perfect. I can still have the break I really need, and then start slowly with something I am really interested in and eager to get my hands and ideas on.

So, that's my news for tonight. Funny how you think the year's basically over and nothing can happen anymore and I hit the biggest bomb of all.

As long as we care

During the past two weeks or so I've been reading these two novels by Fitzgerald for a literature exam, where I'm supposed to analyze the themes of the books. Well, don't know about how I'll get through the exam, but here's a theme analysis for you.

There's a lot of hate in the world, a lot of anger and bitterness. However, there's a force even worse than those; indifference. Towards your spouse, your family, the youngster who keeps getting in trouble all the time, the refugees who have witnessed more horrors than anyone ever should. And we close our eyes, act as if there was nothing in the space that is actually occupied by another human being, and walk away. 

It's unfair, it's cruel but above all it is sad to see, or even read, when someone who used to look at the other with the sparks of their soul now stares blankly ahead, barely acknowledging. How someone can turn from a lover to a stranger, a ghost while still alive. The most painful hit comes in the form of not caring, and when that flame dies out, something is lost for good.

And I admit, I get it on some level. I remember wishing I could just not care, when something has been hurtful or unpleasant to deal with. But in the end I don't want to, since it would be losing something. Whether the indifference is towards yourself or others, the consequence is the still same.

As long as we feel something, there's still hope. The scary thing is that this is a phenomenon present in our daily lives and it's way too easy to look to the other direction. Schools suffer from it when bullying takes the form of intentional indifference, so do work places and even the world of politics, in my opinion. As for schools, it is one lethal disease that can haunt you behind every corner. Maybe coming from a home where caring isn't a priority, to a school where the teacher sees you just as a trouble during a class instead of a human being, where other kids treat you like crap, the pressure from it all is just too much for anyone to handle. Wanna make an attempt at solving the issue of social exclusion? Start caring, start looking, start listening. 

That's where the book ended, not giving me any reassurance that it might not be the end of it after all. But I still believe, since I believe in the world, that we might be able to pick ourselves or each other up from the rock bottom, and start to care again. If we couldn't, this would be a pretty damned dark place, wouldn't it?

¿Ayer, hoy o mañana?

Últimamente he pensado mucho en el pasado y en cómo las situaciones anteriores de mi vida en realidad han influido mi presente. Las decisiones, las personas y mi concepción de mí misma, los libros que he leído, los cuentos que les he contado a mis amigos. Y cómo, a pesar de haber decidido en ese momento que ya basta, tengo que pasar a la parte siguiente, estos recuerdos vuelven en momentos imprevisibles. Y empiezo a preguntarme si lo que decidí entonces, lo que hasta ayer creía que era correcto, era necesario, bien o algo que realmente quería.

Conversamos sobre este tema con una amiga hoy caminando por las calles oscuras mientras copos de nieve enormes estaban cayendo de las nubes y me aseguró de que toda la gente piensa a veces en estas cosas. El problema es que me molesta que estos pensamientos y recuerdos me distraigan aunque estoy segura de que si pudiera hacerlo otra vez, no cambiaría nada. No repetiría ninguna parte de mi vida, ni las más perfectas ni las peores.

Como me dijo ella, quizás es normal sentir así a veces. Con casi todo, siempre hay una verdad que no se puede negar; había un tiempo cuando eso era todo lo que quería, y todo lo que jamás podría querer. Y cuando estaba en este momento cuando lo tenía todo, ¿qué hice? Me preguntaba si ese fue lo que quería. Empezaba a tener otros sueños y otras cosas que quería, que necesitaría para ser totalmente contenta. ¿Por qué no podemos quedar satisfechos con lo que tenemos, o es una cuestión de no haber sabido qué hay tanto más que somos capaces de conseguir? 

Volviendo al pasado en los recuerdos, hay que recordar que la cabeza no es objetiva; te puede mostrar los recuerdos bonitos, las risas felices y los éxitos, o te puede prohibir todas las partes buenas. Y en este momento aquí y ahora hay que tratar de ver la realidad como es, recordar el pasado con todos los aspectos y pensar si es posible ganar algo con estos pensamientos en el futuro. Y muchas, muchas veces he llegado a la conclusión que no vale la pena pasar demasiado tiempo en el pasado, ni siquiera en los momentos perfectos. Las personas cambian, y yo he cambiado, y eso es la razón porque lo que quería entonces ya no me va bien.

Me calma un poco que hay ciertos planes, sueños y ideologías que son permanentes, que sé con certeza que no van a desaparecer. Sí pueden cambiar, pero los cambios complementarán lo que ya he construido. Sé que parece muy inocente decir que no van a cambiar mis ideologías con mis 21 años de experiencia de la vida, pero creo que mi edad es exactamente lo que me permite decir así.

When the nights get a little bit colder

I wrote something.

I wrote something, and I read it, and I flinched.

How could I have written something filled with so much doubt, so much hatred and so much suspicion towards people?

I am not that dark. I  do go there, but I live in the light, still.

 I wrote something, and I erased it.

A bit embarrassed, a bit scared. If I don't believe in people, and tomorrow you don't believe in people, and next week she doesn't, soon there will be nobody left.

'Cause all that really matters, is that we hold on. 

Hold onto each other.

Hold on

Sometimes I wish I could take a peek into the future and see how things turned out. If the decision I made a year ago proved to be the right one, if the same people are still in my life and whether there is someone totally new. It would be reassuring, somehow, to know that I'll reach something. Not so pleasant if it turned out I hadn't, but still. 

Then I think that it would take the excitement out of it, of the moment of here and now, and I'd lose the element of not knowing what's going to happen. After all, not having a clue is what makes it so magical, but what if the magic just fades away and it's dull all along? Would I look back on right now and do something differently, would I see my life as a series of accomplishments and moments lived to the fullest or a stream of situations and actions, the significance of which more vague than it ever was?

I keep wishing I was already there, I can see it in front of my eyes. The whole picture of all the things that have led to it and how I'd feel. Not perfectly happy, 'cause that's a utopia. I would have found out that happiness is a decision, like love is a construction. And still, in spite of it I'd love, I'd laugh and I'd smile because I chose to and it wouldn't be all the time, but it would be enough. 

Then I come back to right now, and realize that even though I keep myself busy, I feel like drowning under expectations set mostly by myself and responsibilities taken on mostly by myself, I shake my head and let out a little laugh. Silly girl, you are already there, and even though the dream is still there too, like the most perfect glittery sticker of all of those that I used to collect, I can lift my eyes up to the reality. And say that I already know that happiness is not a permanent state, not a goal or a reward; it's in feeling and living and laughing and in the eyes of the other people. And I fall in love with being alive, since even though it's dark, cold and raining, I am here. I am here, I am me, and it's magical now. And it will keep being magical, not all the time, not every day, but it will, if I believe so.

Who knows when the moment of "being there" comes, who knows if it'll ever come. I can only think of every day as my "there" and look back on the things that brought me there. And so have a few more reasons each day, a tiny bit of more experience, a little more understanding and a lot more to find out.

Refreshing for the spirit

A brief change of scenery can be surprisingly good for you. It's been a crazy week, but a memorable one also. Celebrating mom's birthday on Monday will continue today with a surprise cottage-weekend with the entire family, which is why I've spent the day in the kitchen basically. It was a tiny bit more challenging than usually, as I am really tired from the student cruise we were at from Wednesday to yesterday. Ships are funny places, I gotta say. But what happens on the ship, stays on the ship... However, we had a blast, and now despite the coma I feel kind of reborn. Somehow I needed that, now I can concentrate again on finishing the studies for this year.

It's unbelievable how fast this fall has gone. It feels like it was just a while ago that the summer ended, and now we're almost halfway through the academic year. And, it's Christmas soon, can't wait!

Again and again

I wonder whether one of these times it'll finally sink in. I keep having the same realization over and over, just to notice that the previous one took me nowhere. The idea is so right every time, how do I keep still messing it up?

I need to change the concept of selfishness in my head. Now, I almost feel like it's pretty much the worst thing I could do, when in reality I should have a lot more of it to be normal. I matter, what I think and feel should matter in the decisions and promises I make, the actions I take to move forward in life. I should feel my own emotions before anyone else's and I should take my own chances instead of holding myself back to give the space to someone else.

I keep waking up to the thought of me, someone who doesn't really speak up. I have always relied on a figurative partner in crime, a confident, a second opinion, that I've let become the first voice that matters. I have no idea how to let go of such a concept, how do I loose the guilt that keeps asking for other people's opinion and punches mine to the ground before even I know what she was going to say?

The surface says I have it all organized, hey, I'm a camp leader and a teacher student and all that. And for many parts I do, have it together and organized in perfect order. But sometimes, which nowadays isn't that rarely, I accidentally sigh and all the flower petals I just arranged nicely fly away. 

Faces

He started to take off his mask, and everyone gasped of surprise; he had another one underneath. Was it really a surprise, though, don't we all conceal our faces with masks and painted emotions day after another? Hunting for pray, we hide ourselves behind a costume, the real creature hungry for affection.


Status, hierarchy, agendas. When did we lose the one that truly matters, how come we forgot? Friendliness fell to the ground when we ran forward with the pursue of power and personal gain, genuineness died when we willingly put on the disguise. 


And no matter how scary he looked, how people flinched when he approached their group constructed by social pressure and expectations, he still reciprocated with kindness when greeted with it. 

And I see through it, I witness the game of conditional pleasing and deliberate indifference, and I know they might see through me too, and I'm afraid they do.

Painting the canvas with imagination

A while ago in a class we watched a video of a speech about how school kills creativity. After spending almost four hours on perfecting a presentation that we refused to do as a boring generic PowerPoint slideshow, moving half of my friend's furniture to create perfect settings for photographing hand-written papers functioning as slides, and several ideas that started to get too extravagant, we finally created an elegant, creative and different presentation.

I know it took about five times more time than a really basic presentation would have, but it is partly due to the fact we haven't done anything like this before. Doesn't that already sound alarming? I feel like this and any kind of creativity should be encouraged a lot more in education. Damn, if I don't remember the points of the article the presentation summarized after all that work, I probably have a serious medical condition. There are tons of ways to present an idea, why settle for the same exact thing everyone does every single time? Besides, our presentation looks awesome and we had so much fun making it.

It might not even be about school killing creativity; I think it's more about the lack of opportunities to express yourself in artistic ways. If you had a task of presenting a novel you had to read for a class, why couldn't you make a sock puppet story, a song, a music video or a role play out of it instead of a slideshow presentation? I'm so gonna try to incorporate such methods in my teaching someday. I'd love to hear a subjunctive song or see a play demonstrating the prepositions.

In the end, we don't remember the sentences following the bullet points after some time has passed, we remember the things that made us laugh, the ones that impressed us and the ones that we couldn't take our eyes off. 

Wow, I think I should start writing about educational themes more often. I feel like I'm bursting with ideas and enthusiasm to shake up the traditions of teaching, which I understand to be also a bit naive and idealistic. I just hope I won't ever lose this enthusiasm, 'cause if I do I will be guilty of killing my own fire. And that would be just dumb, since that's the flame where my passion for teaching comes from.

Random thoughts make a story, don't they?

How do you know you're really a student? You're preparing to leave for a wine-tasting. On Monday. Yep, that's it. Only students can so sneakily organize a fancy-sounding event (which I'm sure will actually be quite fancy) that includes wine when the week is just starting. Well, on Thursday we won't even try to cover it, it's our subject organization's Halloween party.

What else is new? I'm getting back at my gym routine and I love it. It is so energizing. Plus, I'm gonna bake gluten-free American chocolate cupcakes on Wednesday. Hmm, I see the contradiction here...moving on.

What is the point of this post? I don't really know. 

Also, I found a girl who's been to Lima a year ago in the same university I'm going to, so we had lunch and I asked her everything I could think of. I can't even describe how excited I am about it. And, to make the lunch even better, there was a flash mob in the university restaurant. Seriously, how cool is that?
 

It's turning against me

I'm really starting to wonder whether I really like responsibility or if I've just got myself into such positions just because I could and I was expected to. The thing that bugs me so much is that sometimes, when you share the responsibility, other people fuck up or totally unrelated factors create obstacles and I feel all the weight of that. 

I know it's not my fault that things don't go as planned  but hell, if we're organizing something and there appears to be a throwback around every corner and it seems like nobody gives a rat's ass, I am not really left with loads of motivation to encourage people to have fun with us. 

They are little things, and not even that serious, but when they pile up and it just keeps on going and I feel like I'm alone in the mess that is just hanging there really messy, I feel like all I want is to raise my hands and deny having anything to do with it.

I'm so irritated that I'm struggling with keeping the text more or less reader-friendly. I'd really just like to curse. A lot.

And the thing is, that I've been here before. I've felt this same irritation before, knowing that I've brought it on myself by gathering all these responsibilities and I hate it. I'm like a junkie addicted to something that they don't even like.

Yeah, I don't even like it. Why the hell do I keep signing up for it?

Hey it's still light outside

Somehow I feel like my posts recently have been pretty dark and mysteriously sad. I don't really know what's up with that, I guess the emphasis comes from the fact that in those moments I've felt the most inspired to write, to get it all out of my system to make myself feel better. Anyway, I haven't been all depressed lately, I've had really great time as well. Last weekend, for example, was perfect! I visited my sister in Helsinki, went to see an amazing concert by the most popular Finnish pop-rock band, spent some quality time with my wonderful friends and then came home to my family. It's sort of a fall vacation for me, since I don't have any exams that would normally take place this week.

However, I gotta admit, this fall has been a lot about soul-searching and puzzled feelings. I am more confused and emotional than before, but I think I'm already starting to get some sense to it all. Acknowledging certain issues and starting to think outside the box, for instance. I think I still battle with the same questions I've been dealing with for years, and as I move forward in baby steps, I find myself tripping over the same stone I already thought I had jumped over. Like one of my favorite quotes says, "it is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so very deeply".

But for now, I only hope the near future holds some happy feelings to be felt deeply. So it should, as I finished one course so, hopefully, I'll have more time to go to the gym or long walks around the lake, color my coloring book, write, read, see my friends and my sisters and everything else that will make me happy.