I can't say too much, even though I usually have so much to say. I always like to tell people that life is what you make of it, and in my case at least, that's certainly what's happened. To an extent.
What was in Nate said to me yesterday? "______ is not a place you want to stay in." He's in Japan now.
And then Nash, whom I admire very much and always have: "If you want something badly enough, you'll get it." I should listen to her, she has a PhD.
I don't need to ask what I want, because I know what I want. I was talking on the phone to a friend the other day and she recommended meditation for clarification. Haha nope, I said, I don't need meditation to clarify my mind and what I want because I already know what I want. It's clear as day.
Two years ago, I wrote in my diary (not this one - another one); "That feeling of working tirelessly towards a goal - and then faltering right before you get everything you want." No, not me - I know myself far too well for that. I fear repetition, and being trapped. Dante's Inferno and Groundhog Day would be my worst nightmare.
This is distracting, this is. I don't like people invading my personal space.
Fragmented experiences.
Riga. Always Riga. Vecriga; I walked around happily, reveling in how different it was from Tallinn. Perhaps it was me, but somehow I doubt it. All my friends who have ever visited Tallinn found it as insipid and uninspired as I did.
I can't be the only person who notices little things about people and extrapolates that info to paint a bigger theoretical picture of that person per se. Most of the time (I would say all the time but that's too much bloviation and arrogance, even for me) I'm right.
More to come. Moar, I say.
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