I’ve realised that I very rarely ever write text posts, and this is something I need to fix. Sometimes, I let my writing go for so long that I become intimidated by how much I have missed out on recording, and consequently write nothing at all. Which creates a spiraling trap of forgotten, hazy, or embellished memories. I don’t know why I hesitate so much — this writing is only for myself, for future reference. Just ramblings and such.
Truth is, there hasn’t been terribly much to write about lately, because I haven’t been doing all that much. I’m currently on a three month holiday break until university starts in England in October (!!), and am overwhelmed by my endless spare time. Of course, small inconsequential things happen which I should write about — but laziness is easy to sink into.
Living in Brunswick for the past couple of months has been an absolute pleasure, and I most certainly want to move out somewhere around here when I come back next February. Brunswick, with its endless character, and its endless cafes, suits me to the core. The house I live in is one of the craziest pieces of construction I’ve ever experienced, very old and only just held together by miscellaneous bits and pieces, with sinking floors and cold breezes flowing under the doors. But it’s entirely lovable.
I don’t go out much, really, even though there are plenty of options. And despite my natural introversion, I do miss going out. Thing is, I need to create a wider network of friends in the area otherwise I will end up spending every Friday night watching tv shows until early in the morning. I do like that, though. But it would be nice to actually emerge from my cocoon of food and easy entertainment and go out every now and then. Sometimes, (get the tissues out) I feel lonely rather than alone. Alone is fine, alone is good, but lonely is a little different. Time to bite the bullet and become more social, methinks.
In other news, the two month countdown until England has already begun, and so everything is beginning to feel very real now. Up until this point, the trip has been a far-away event which I never really expected to happen, even after I’d filled in all the paperwork and booked my flight. Now, reality is setting in and I am becoming increasingly more excited, and just a little nervous — but a healthy degree of nervous, I think.
Isolation offered its own form of companionship: the reliable silence of her rooms, the steadfast tranquility of the evenings. The promise that she would find things where she put them, that there would be no interruption, no surprise. It greeted her at the end of each day and lay still with her at night.
—Jhumpa Lahiri, The Lowland (via bookmania)