coffee and cigarettes
I found this ticket by mistake in a bus. Don't ask me how.
The first row is the bus number, the third the hour and the forth, the date.
What I especially liked, besides the more or less obvious pattern (also known as routine) is the fact that 2 times he/she didn't return home alone. That's nice. And I should get a life, I know.
I would like you to read this in a detached and objective way. Like facts, not figures. I don't try to cause empathy, compassion or any other ”˜poor her' feelings. My expression of thoughts or ideas is depending on this, as I like sharing things but rather like a kid looking detached at what he discovered. There is nothing behind the words... it's more like a finding. Like thinking for oneself, bare-naked thoughts, without hidden subtleties. Like medicine students handle organs without considering the body they came with.
Ok. Don't really remember where my train of thoughts derailed...
Don't really remember where and when I derailed, just found myself one day far away from the track. And now I am kind of building my own track (which should be more like a non-track..., whatever that means). I'll promise to avoid bull**** metaphors.
I mentioned before that I had to pay for the lack of interested in Seville and or Spain, before coming here. Well, things got to the point that I am seriously thinking about staying one year here and working. I never thought I would get to this point. Had traveled quit a bit, but... maybe it's just different when you stay in a place for a longer time.
Would I have anything to loose? Not really. I want to make a masters anyway, somewhere in this world, and it's not like the Romanian Diploma can really help. The option of working while finishing my studies in Romania is... funny. You can also call it voluntarism. And it was really nice when my favorite teacher from Timisoara wrote to me that I wouldn't miss anything. Btw, I was astonished to find out that here, working as a student in an architecture studio (let's say 4 hours/day), I earn as both my parents in a month (and they reasonable positions). And trust me: the life-is-cheaper-in-Romania factor doesn't really apply. It is not making me sad, but makes me think that I owe it to myself and to them to stay here.
I worked the last weeks for a small firm, doing a contest. It was fun. And funny. Are clichés that real or am I seeing only clichés? As always, the jefes (because they came double, special offer - 2 bosses) are the incarnation of at least 80% of the Architects jokes. But they are very nice and in the end the atmosphere and the place matter a lot.
Friends said I moved in at work. Maybe I did. Maybe I move in wherever I find something worth it.
The same friends are leaving one by one. Strange, you never think about it but then it just ends as sudden as it started. It's like after a good long night out when the sunrise surprises you. You knew it would happen, just maybe not that soon. Abrupt. Life is sometimes very abrupt and violent. Or we are fragile. But could it be in any other way?
Back in high school I thought things are coming and going, nothing really matters, nothing really stays. I had absolutely no feeling for time. Now I notice that everything is staying, in one shape or the other. So make it good......