Apdeit, madherfakers.

Nojah..

Mu mälu on ju nii nagu ta on. Unustab ikka kuradi palju ära. Inimesed ei mõista mind, kui ütlen, et no lihtsalt ei mäleta. Vaatavad mind lolli näoga: "Mis mõttes, sa ei mäleta? See ei olnud ju üldse ammu, paar aastat tagasi või mis ta oli."

Ja mis siis kui oli ainult paar aastat tagasi? Mu mälu on väga selektiivne, ja väga järjekindel selles, et panna mind unustama iga asi, mis on juhtunud kauem kui aasta tagasi. Isegi asjad, mis toimusid alles eelmine nädal, on mõnikord mu mälust absoluutselt kadunud. Ma ei oska nähtust seletada, pole veel lasknud ajudoktoritel seda uurida. Äkki peaks. Äkki tuleb välja, et mu mingisugusele hüpopopo-talade või mis iganes mäluretseptorite peale vajutab suur paks tuumor, mis ei lasegi mul midagi mäletada. Võib-olla on mul varane dementsus...

Nii et selleks, et mitte päris kõike ära unustada, selleks tulebki ju asju üles kirjutada. Pidasin kunagi päevikut, aga see vägistas kätt jubedalt ära. Elame tänapäeval ju niivõrd kiires ja virtuaalses maailmas, no miks mitte siis blogisse üles kirjutada?

Olen seda blogi töös hoidnud alates 2009-st aastast, mil läksin esimest korda suveks Saksamaale. Sellest ajast alates on enam-vähem kord aastas ikka mingi postitus siia tulnud. Alguses tihedalt, siis aga jäi vool järgi ja pigem tilkus, nagu oleks stalagmiiti vorminud. Eks ma lisan siis veel ühe tilga. Võib-olla hakkab siin jälle tihedamalt voolama. Võib-olla mitte. Kes teab.

Alustasin teise blogiga kah. Profiili alt saab lingi, keda huvitab. Mu FB-s on ka üleval link. Nagu öeldud, keda huvitab. Puhtalt inglise keeles seekord, ja ega tal pole ka erilist nišši või säärast. Lihtsalt minu mõtted, mõtisklused, pahad ja head tujud, üles kirjutatud. Püüan end ikka sundida sinna tihedamini kirjutama. Kes teab, kaua see vastu peab, aga noh. Ma ju olen teada-tuntud alustaja ja sinnajätja. Äkki üllatan ennast isegi seekord.

Siia kirjutan siis vahelduse mõttes jälle eesti keeles. Ega mul välismaist lugejaskonda just ei ole siin, ma arvan. Ja kes on, suudab kuugli translaatorit kah kasutada, mis siis, et selle tõlge ei kõlba enamasti isegi mitte sea püherdamise aluseks.

Kavatsen nüüd varsti ülikooli sisse astuda. Jah... ikka saadi mind sinnamaani, et ma sellesse kõrgemasse õppeasutusse kah oma jala tõstan. Perekond on muidugi jube õnnelik ja uhke. No miks ka mitte, meie kultuuris siin on ju õudsalt tähtis, et need kolm aastat ikka lisaks koolipinki nühitakse. Et see üks paberilipakas kätte saadakse, millel suurelt peal Bakalaureuse Diplom või midagi sarnast. Minu jaoks pole see endiselt elutähtis, aga noh. Kui perekond on õnnelik, siis antakse mulle vähemalt ka oma rahu. Ja noh, siis saab veel rohkem lugeda kui muidu. Vähemalt üks asi, milles ma hea olen. Lugeda ma oskan. Ainus asi õieti, milles ma ennast veel päris korralikult kompetentseks pean. Ülejäänu kõik on kuidagi tahaplaanile jäänud ja jamaks ära keeranud. Laulda kah enam õieti ei oska. Kooriga saab muidugi kenasti kaasa leelutatud, ja seal pole ka probleeme, aga soolokarjäärist võin vaid unistada. Klaverit pole enam ammu puutunud, pole lihtsalt võimalust olnud... mingil määral ikka täitsa kahju sellest...

Aga jah. Ülikool. Eks ole ka oma korterit vaja, ja töökohta, mis kataks ära üüri, toidu ja muud kulud. Good luck have fun eks ole? Eesti palgad ei kõlba enamuses mitte kuhugi, tavaline müüja kusagil Tallinnas ei suudaks omal 10 h päevas, 6 päeva nädalas töötades isegi mitte süüa osta, kui palgast üür ära makstud. Huvitav küll, kuidas nad tegelikult siis ära elavad? Ma ei saa päris aru sellest... Seletage keegi mulle see palun ära.

Mul ei ole absoluutselt mitte mingisugust soovi panga-, õppe- vms laenu võtta. Ma ei ole elu sees kelleltki raha laenanud, vähemalt mitte selliste summade kaupa. Võib-olla kümpa söögi jaoks, mille olen tagasi maksnud järgmine nädal, kui palk kohal. Aga see on ka kõik. Ja ma jätkan järjekindlalt sel teel. Laenud rikuvad elu ära. Laenud naelutavad sind kohale nii tugevalt, et sina ja mõnikord isegi sinu lapsed ei pääse enam minema. Seda tulevikku ei soovi ma mitte mingil juhul endale. See oleks päris ausalt öeldes minu vägagi enneaegne surm, kui ma oleks sunnitud laenu võtma. Forget it.

Niisiis rühin vaikselt ikka niisama edasi. Kuna hetkel ülikooli jaoks kõige parem ja kõige rohkem tasuta võimalus Eestis olemas, siis mujale kõrgemate palkate hulka kah ei saa minna.. seal ju ülikool maksaks jälle roppu raha. Saksamaale ausalt öeldes tagasi kah enam ei kisu, kohe üldse mitte. Need peaaegu 6 aastat seal olid enam kui piisavad, et mulle selgeks teha, kui väga nende töömoraal mulle ikka ei istu. Palk palgaks, aga kui sult oodatakse, et sa teed absoluutselt närvetapvalt surmigavat tööd iga päev laia naeratusega ja ootad selle peale, et "Arbeit macht Frei", siis noh. Edu. Not for me, though. Pole ikka minu.

Nii et eks jah. Nii mu elu välja näeb hetkel. Paras tohuvabohu, nagu ikka, ja samas mina istun siin üsnagi letargilisena, lasen näppudel üle klahvide sibada ja mõtisklen elu nõmeduse üle.

Depression sucks, okei?

Näeme siis jälle millalgi.

Tšau.

Late night ramblings... problems... humanity... Bla. Bla. Bla.

Well, hello there. Long time no see.

It's *checks time* 00.38 here in South Germany, I'm on my last glass of wine and just finished watching Fifty Shades of Grey. Alone.

Oh, everything's great with my boyfriend, or rather partner, in case you're wondering. I'm just on brother-sitting duty and sadly enough alone on a Friday night behind a computer, typing away.

No, but why I really decided to write... I'm just mostly so disappointed in humanity in general. Yes, I've seen a few exceptions and I don't blame them for anything. I truly, deeply, love and honour them and wish them all the best in this world. No. Who I'm talking about are the people that pretend to be your friends. People who smile to your face at first, who really make you think they care, that you could be friends with them, and then suddenly, with absolutely no explanation or warning, turn their backs on you and ignore you. After all that you've been through together, may it be a few months or many years, they just ignore you, and after multiple times of asking what's wrong and just hoping for an answer where none comes... it's very tiring and very hurtful.

People who find fun in the torment of others. People who only really laugh when the joke is about another person being in a stupid/hurtful/painful/embarrassing situation. People who simply ignore you, outside of a polite "Hello, how are you?" or " Could you please pass me the [fill in the blank]?"

I have to admit, I've been one of those people, yes. I'm not free of blame, no. But I've always tried to at least tone it down a bit, not become fully immersed. Because I don't want to willingly hurt others. I don't want to ignore other people just because someone tells me to or because everyone else is doing it. If I don't like you or something about you, I usually try to say it directly to you. I do like to avoid confrontations, yes, but sometimes they are inevitable.

Maybe that's why I don't have any real friends here. Or at least not any real friends who actually have time for me, who actually answer me or agree to meet up somewhere for a girls' night out or whatever else. Other than my bf and his family I've really got no one here. Aaaand cue the tears.

I'm getting tired of crying about this... I can't help it, either. *sips wine* It's just the way I, as a person, am built up. I need to cry once in a while. Or more than once in a while some days. Especially if I keep drinking alcohol when I'm already sad/slightly depressed/annoyed/[any other negative feeling]. I could help it, but to be honest, I really don't want to.

Anyway. Back to the real topic. Fake people. They pretend. So much. I pretend as well. Almost every day of my life is like an evening on the first opening night - I put on my mask and try not to slip with my role. Just that my pretending is more of a "I'm totally fine, I'm such an awesome person, I love myself, people find me likeable etc etc etc". I keep putting on that mask because I'm afraid otherwise I won't have anything to look forward to in my life at all anymore.

And I can't distance myself from those people either... because to be truly honest, they are the only ones that at least talk to me at all and (pretend to be) are friendly. That group is the only reason I don't sit home behind my laptop EVERY evening of the week. If I were to give that up, however much I dislike some of their behaviour, I wouldn't have anything else to do. I would simply spiral even deeper. And I'm afraid of that road.

But how can I tell them that I don't like that kind of behaviour? How can I make them understand that? How do you get through to someone who simply won't answer any of your texts or questions? So yes, I did a drastic move tonight. I blocked him out. As much as possible. All the social media, everything. He deserved it though. Being an asshole like that and not even saying one word as to why he started ignoring me in the first place or if I did something wrongful towards him.. Not one word. In person, yes, he couldn't ignore me completey because of the presence of other people, but I understood it.

So fuck you, Mr. P.P. I really am done with you. With this last post, I am pushing away everything to do with you. I know I have to see you once the trainings start again, but I am going to make oh so clear that I am done. Everyone will see it. Everyone. I don't care anymore. You screwed me over like the ego you are. So you absolutely deserve what's coming to you now. You just lost the game, biatch.






So. My question still is - what am I doing wrong that people don't want to make real friends with me? I get that most people here already have their established friend groups and not too much time to hang out with new ones, but I mean.. can't you even at least invite me to one of your parties? Do I really have to write each and every one of you every weekend and get turned down with "Oh, sorry, I've already got plans" or "Sorry, I'm not feeling like it tonight" or "Nope, don't wanna" etc? I don't really want to see those answers, not really. You wouldn't, either. You know you wouldn't. So why should I want to see them?

I should probably tell most of them to fuck off, that I don't need them, that I'm better off without them, but that would be a lie. I do need them. For some odd reason I need the companionship, even if people rarely talk to me, and I mean really talk to me outside of the normal polite convo openers, fillers and endings. I just need to feel like I'm even partly part of the group. Because without all of that, I'd slowly start going insane. I've already felt the beginnings, and they were not nice. At all. That's why I found myself trying to get into that group of people in the first place. And now that they've disappointed me so much... I find myself not able to let go of them.

The people around here are just such cowards most of the time. When you ask them straight out if they've got a problem with you, they simply ignore you rather than to man up and say out loud that "Yes, I've got this and that and that problem. What you gonna do about it?" At least this way I could understand what's bothering them and possibly work on a solution to it, but with no answer I'm left hanging in thin air with thousands of possibilities going through my mind, but leaving me none the smarter. Please learn to talk to each other, people. Please.

Well. I guess I mostly got out everything that I really wanted to share right now. Some people will maybe understand most of what I'm trying to say, some people will understand only a little bit, but that's okay. The people who are real friends will ask me about this. The people who aren't will either read through this and then shrug and think "Oh well, she's got problems" or will simply ignore this. That's how life is. It's got it's happy moments, but mostly it sucks. So you have to suck it up.

Peace.
Triin

"It's been a long time since I came around
It's been a long time but I'm back in town
This time I'm not leaving..."


These lyrics represent my feeling when I first logged on today after months, or rather, a year. I had nothing to do and I started surfing the pages I used to visit every day once upon a time. And I chanced upon my old blog. It's nice to be back again.

I live in Germany now, permanently, and I work at a local bakery. I hate the job, but I get money needed to live, so I have to endure it. I've got a boyfriend, a real, live, 100% man. :) It feels good to have someone care for you and do things with you. I'm so tired of being lonely all the time so it's a welcome change. I love him, he loves me, and right now, things are good. ♥

What else? Hmm.. Oh yeah, I  had an appendix surgery a few weeks ago. They removed it. No biggie ;)

I don't know what to write about. My life is relatively boring, if you take out the almost-regular snooker and pool matches I have with my bf or the constant rollerskating whenever the weather is good enough. We love rollerskating. Oh yeah. We do it all the time, like seriously. It's fun, it's sporty and it's good for your health and body :)

I want to write something more, but my head's kind of empty. No ideas...
Well, I think I'll be off then. Going to watch some Glee. I've got so many TV shows that I want to watch, whole seasons of them... it's gonna take ages before I'm done with all of them, IF I get done with all of them at all...

Bye-bye ♥

Kõndisin just koolist särava päikesevalguse käes kodu poole, kui tundsin järsku midagi erilist. Oleksin peaaegu seisma jäänud, kuid pidin vanaemaga sammu pidama. Püüdsin käigu pealt välja mõelda, mis see eriline asi on. Vaatasin ringi - lumehunnikud, libedalt jäised teed, raagus puud ja päike eredalt taevas sädelemas, kõik mu päikeseprillide tagant vaadatuna pisut pruunikates toonides. Ei. See ei olnud midagi, mida oleks näha. Igatahes veel mitte. Kikitasin järgmisena kõrvu. Autode müra majade vahel, busside tuututamine ja trammide kolin. Lausekatked suvaliste inimeste kõnelustest ja kõrvus vihisev külm tuul. Ei, seda ei saanud ka kuulda, mitte siin linnamüra sees. Läbi paksu mantli polnud eriti midagi tunda, kuid päike paitas soojalt mu nägu, kuigi tuul seda samal ajal püüdis punaseks näpistada. Siiski polnud see ka miski, mida veel tunda. Astusin veel paar sammu, hingasin rahulikult sisse ning siis see mind tabaski! See imeline lõhn!!! Hingasin veel korra läbi nina, sulgedes korraks silmad (see oli viga - oleksin peaaegu kukkunud). See aroom, see segu erinevatest lõhnadest, ükskõik kui tugevad või nõrgad nad ei ole - kevade lõhn. Hingasin sisse ja püüdsin aru saada, kust see tuleb. Selleni ma ei jõudnudki...
Kevade lõhn, mis see siis on? See on kõikide heade asjade lõhn, mis mulle meeldivad. Selles on kerge lõkkelõhn, grillilõhn, mis meenutab mulle jaanipäeva ja suviseid mõnusalt õdusaid õues grillimisi. Selles on lillelõhn, selline kerge ja meeldiv, mitte raske ja paks, sind maha suruv aroom. Värskelt niidetud muru lõhn on samuti üheks koostisosaks - see on üks mu suurimaid lemmiklõhnu üldse. Miks? Sest seda lõhna on tunda ainult mõnusal soojal kevad- või suvepäeval, kui keegi on just oma liiga pikaks kasvanud muru ära niitnud. Kevad ja suvi on mu lemmikaastaajad, sellest siis ka mu lemmiklõhn. Kevade lõhnas on koos kõik kõige paremad asjad - päike, pilvitu taevas, heleroheline muru... Seda lõhna võiks ma iga päev tunda. Sellest ei tüdine iial. :)

***

Ah jaa, tahaks omale ka väga sellist sünnipäevaks saada!! Kattttttt :D Sorri, aga sa panid mõtte pähe :D Nii et kui mulle sügisel Saksamaale sellist saadetist mittesulanud vormis ei ole tulnud, siis hoia alt :D.

On The Road To School

Otsustasin siis siia ka oma inglise keele tunni jaoks mõeldud jutukese kirjutada, et mitte ainult mu rühmakaaslased ja mu õpetaja ei peaks seda nautima, vaid ka teie, mu lugejad :)

I push down the doorhandle and am immediately greeted by a cold gush of wind that drives all the warmth out of me. I shudder and step out of the grey cold building not very looking forward to another schoolday. It's snowing. I pull down my hood low over my eyes because I hate it when the snow gets in my eyes. It's cold. It's dark. As usual. I have to live in this cold dark world at least for some more months. I hate it. I don't like it. I want warmth and sunshine and all those things that make me happy. Pretty Reckless is booming in my headphones, I sing along mutely and try to make my way through the thickening snow to the tram stop. I have to run a bit, though, because I came out too late. One tram is coming along now, but it's not mine, fortunately, cause I'm way too far away to get to it in time.

The song changes to another one. I know the words as well. I sometimes think if it seems too weird when I walk along and mouth the words of songs that no one else can hear but me, but then I discard that thought and just walk right on and sing right on. I don't care. It's my decision, my world and I do what I want in my world.

The shops are still closed, but Comarket has already lights in it. I always pass it thinking why are they there so early? But then I walk on and new thoughts invade my mind. Buses are creeping through the fat thick white falling snow, making funny noises and letting off warm gusts of air when opening their creaking doors to let stuffed people in and out. Buses are always so full in this time of morning so I take the tram. At least it's not crammed with people.

I make it to the tram stop. A small pause on my road. Some people are standing in the small booth, making funny movements to make themselves warmer and hopping from one foot to another. I join them in the strange dance and wait for my tram. I wonder if Paula will make it today. She sometimes comes on the right time and sometimes she doesn't. I keep looking at the direction she comes from and sometimes check if I see the tram also. It's so cold I have to wrap my whole face except for my eyes inside my scarf. Then I catch a glimpse of myself in a window and start to laugh quietly. I look like a terrorist. It's just funny for me. But then again, most people who wrap themselves up so look like terrorists. So it doesn't bother me that much.

A number 1 tram is coming. Not mine, unfortunately, because I have to stand longer in the excruciating cold. Fortunately, no one now sees how I sing along to the songs because my mouth is inside my scarf. I shift my balance from one foot to another and continue to shudder quietly.

Oh, there's my tram! The old reliable number 3. Guess Paula isn't going to make it today. I make my way together with a bunch of other people to the tram doors and grab a seat by the window on the right. I lay my head against the glass and shut my eyes. I'm tired and my eyes hurt.

The tram starts to move. I open my eyes at one point and wave to my grandmother who is on the window to see if I got on the tram. She alway does it. I always wave to her too. Just so she wouldn't worry too much. She really does worry too much.

It's warm and relatively comfortable in the tram. I have to be careful not to fall asleep, but it's not such a big problem, 'cause the tram makes such noises all the time it is quite impossible to fall asleep there. It goes on with excruciatingly slow speed and always stands in the stops so long and keeps it's doors open for so long that I get cold again. I'm always cold in the winter. It's inevitable. My hands are numb with cold even though I have two pairs of gloves on. I have no idea why. Maybe because I have so-called "pianist hands". They are always supposed to be cold.

Hobujaama. I open my eyes briefly and who do I see standing, waiting in the stop, but good old Martin Link. I'm not really in the mood to talk to him, though, so I keep my head turned, looking out the window and he doesn't notice me, walking straight past me. He sometimes takes the number 5 bus, but as it seems then today he has decided to come on the tram.
I close my eyes again and listen to my music.

Viru. Can it move more slowly? I'm getting impatient because of the cold air coming in through the open doors. I open my eyes again. The tram's just standing there, holding it's doors open even though no one's coming on anymore. Someone is simply walking slowly on the zebra! It drives me crazy.

"Vabaduse väljak", a russian voice announces over the loudspeaker. The tram creaks and shudders to a stop and then opens the doors. I step off. The frosty wind blows immediately in my face and tries to make my hood fall off my head. Again. It happens so often. I make my way to the traffic light behind some people who apparently know nothing of walking fast. To my luck the green light is still on. I flounder through the snow to the big yellow, majestic-looking building. I make it to the door and have to pull it open. It's always so heavy when pulling it by yourself. Especially when there's snow to prevent it. When I get inside I'm greeted by a beautiful warmth and a green, though fake, christmas tree. The school seems welcoming, but only to those who don't go there often. I, as a student, have to go there every day and to me it isn't so very welcoming anymore. At least it's relatively warm.

I hang up my clothes, taking my time getting my huge boots off (Paula always asks why it takes me so long to get my clothes off so I every time explain to her the fact that I have huge boots and it is a pain in the ass to get them off quickly) and then I walk upstairs to my first lesson. I've finished my short journey, arriving to my destination.

I used to love happy endings, but now I hate them.

Nüüd ajavad mind kõik romantiliste filmide lõpud lihtsalt öökima. Täiesti jube. Kas nad ei saa kunagi aru, et nad pole määratud nii kaua olema? F**cking filmmakers.

Mul on täna tuju halvaks pööranud.

Tahaks ära. Võtke mind ära.
Viige siit kaugele, mägede taha.
Sinna, kus inimesi ei ela.

Issand, kui idioot on Edgar Savisaar. Ta tervitab mustlasi Eestisse ja nimetab neid toredaks rahvaks. Noh, pole siis ka ime, et Eesti riik järjest rohkem põhja läheb. Eriti Tallinn. Savisaar siin linna peaotsas. ÕÕHHH..

"Mina arvan niimoodi, et mustlased on täitsa vahva rahvas ja kui neid siia tuleb, siis las tuleb, meie ütleme tere tulemast." Nojaaaaa.....

"Meie" küll tere tulemast ei ütle. Tema ütleb. Öelgu siis, kuniks tal ka midagi ära varastatakse. Olgu lahke.

Drifting on lahe, kuigi illegaalne ja ohtlik.

Täiesti mõtetu jura siin jälle. Ma ei ole ju mingi kirjanik. Lihtsalt juran siin.

Reporteris käib koolivägivalla kohta jutt. Ma isegi ei viitsi selle kohta siin rääkima hakata, sest ma jääksingi sellest rääkima vist. Ja seda ma ei taha.

Pastiche in "Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell"

The book "Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell" by Susanna Clarke is a wonderful combination of different genres and literary devices. Some say it is a pure fantasy novel, others have argued it to be a historical novel, or an alternative history. As for the literary traditions, those are mostly drawn from the Romantic era, to be more specific, from the 19th century writings. The main influences on the language used in the book come from Austen and Dickens, other devices used have come from the Byronic hero, the Gothic tale, the comedy of manners etc. This essay will be focusing on the pastiche of the 19th century writing styles, mainly in Charles Dickens' works.

trollololloloooooooo....

yeesss, i really love writing essays. truly fun to do that. especially when writing only with your both index fingers...

YYEEEEIIIII!!!!

stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid

ma olen loll.loll.loll.loll.loll.loll.loll.loll.loll.loll.loll.loll.loll.loll.loll.

The book is good. Very good.

Love the magic. And the sarcasm in it.

But pastiche?

How the hell should I know anything about it?

I haven't read any stories from Dickens. How should I know if Clarke is pastiching him or not?

From Wikipedia? But that's not an acceptable source for our school teachers, no.

As I understood from the word pastiche description, it is something that writers do because they don't have anymore original ideas. They copy someone's style and publish a book with it. Good for them.

So what does Clarke do?

I don't know 'cause I haven't read any of Dickens' stories!!! God, is that so hard to believe that I haven't done that?

Yeah... I like more contemporary writers than 19th century ones. They're just a tiny wee bit TOO OLD for me.

Why do I even have to write this essay? It's not like I'm gonna use it some time in the very distant future... you know, I might be even dead tomorrow. I could be hit by a car. Or an icycle. i don't know. I can't see into the future.

We are being made to do this because some people slightly older than us think it is best to destroy our lives, eyes, nerves and everything else by making us do some piece of writing no one is going to profit from...

Yeah yeah. I'm being a teenager. I know.

Frankly, I don't care. I already submitted something like this to my english teacher. I don't care anymore if I submit something like this to you too.

I should go to a pshyciatrist? Yeah, just make me. How can she/he help me by writing an essay to you if I do not have enough knowledge and wit to write one?

I knew it from the beginning that I was not cut out for this school. Now you ask me, of course, that why did you even come here then? Why? Because I was ready to take any flight out of Märjamaa. I hated that place. I still do. Yes, I had a possibility to go to Westholm. But as I got the call from TIK that I had got in I felt good, because that was something to feel good about. Getting in to an elite school in Tallinn when coming from places like Õismäe Gymnasium and Märjamaa Gymnasium was a big thing for me. I was excited. And everyone was so proud of me... I couldn't let them down. I know I can't do this now either, but I feel like you all are asking too much of me. I know myself. I know I can't push myself anymore. I'm on the verge of running into a mental hospital and begging myself to be locked down somewhere. Everyone's complaining, everyone's got their own problems, so do I.

Probably I'm jsut begging for some kind of special treatment, or that's what you treat. No, I'm not. I'm simply contemplating the fact that I'm not as good as you think. I hate writing essays. Give me something where I can make everything up by myself, like the Shantis last year. I like those kind of writing tasks. Not essays which have strict structure and strict use of words and nothing can be different from the view in the teacher's mind or you are going to get a worse mark for it. I'm not used to be contained in a box. To have my thought put inside a little box and told that I have to write a perfect essay within the box. it's not how my mind works. I know everyone else has to do it too. I know that very well. No one has to remind me of that. I'm sure they have problems with writing their essays too. But they are determined to do that because they know they're going to need it for their future. I know I'm not. Tell me one subject in a film school that requires writing a strict essay and I'm gonna write them from now on. But I don't see editing and animation go together with essays in any way. I just ond't see the connection. If you see one, please, be so kind, let me know.

Probably having a writer's block right now. At least that's what everyone else calls it. I call it my inability to write essays. I've never been good at it. At least in english. When I was in Märjamaa, my estonian teacher used to praise me and my writings there. Also in Õismäe. But that was also the basic school. Guess high school expects more from me than I can give. I'm utterly happy for any five I manage to get here. I'm used to getting 4-s and 3-s and even 2-s and 1-s. If I take a history test I always hope I can get at least a 3 so I wouldn't have to study double for it. When doing something in english I also aim for a good solid 3 or 4. If I get a 5, I'm completely astonished. You see what this school's made me like? I used to be a straight-5-student. I used to get "kiituskirju". Now I'm struggling somewhere in the lower middle class, so to speak. From Hilton hotel to cheap roadside motel in somewhere California. That's where my road has taken me.

I'm happy to start a completely new life in a place where nobody knows me. I'm so looking forward to it. I know it ain't gonna be easy, but I'm willing to work for that. I'm willing to work for it, because I can see a goal in there. A future. Something that will make me happy. In this essay I see no goal. A mark, you say. A good mark. What will it give me? Nothing that I can touch. Only see. Only hear. Nothing substantial. Nothing that I can use for my life. One mark will give me nothing I can use. I can't eat it, can I? I can't buy anything with it, can I? Can I pay my rent with it? No. No, and no.

I'm lost. I don't know what to do. Tears swelling up in my eyes every minute or so. Me drying them again. Yes, you can read it and think it nothing more but a sad story of a poor girl who should get up and smile more, maybe the world will be a better place. There are people who can do a lot of things just by smiling, but I'm not one of them. As most of the world, I am doomed to serve those people who do nothing but smile and think it to be the hardest job ever. Think me as an emo, as a goth, as anything you want - I'm none of them. I'm just a sad broken girl with small petty troubles such as writing one stupid essay while in the world there are so many bigger problems than me - global warming, hunger, diseases etc etc etc etc etc. Well, I say, fuck them. They're not gonna go away with us talking about it and doing nothing. Even doing something won't get us very far. Has it helped so far? Don't see the results anywhere. The world still goes round as if nothing has happened. Rich people still dominate over the poor. It's inevitable. Everywhere you go.

Ah, getting bored with this tirade. No one's going to read it anyway. I'm just gonna delete it soon, or post it up on my blog which no one reads and for wednesday, have a middle quality essay for Paavo coming up. It's so typical. I just wish he could see this. Or maybe not. I don't know. I'm confused.

Life's not easy. It has been said to me a hundred thousand times. I KNOW IT ALREADY!! STOP BUGGING ME ABOUT IT!!! And also, don't feel pity for me. I don't want that. I just wish someone could come, wave their magic wand and make it a bit easier for me. I'm trying, you know. For the last three years I've been trying to impress people that will never be impressed by me, a low worth-of-nothing scoundrel who has come to a shining place of education to throw everyone's middle grades into abyss.

Okay. I have no idea why I just said that. Sorry. I'm sorry if anyone was offended by this. I really am sorry. There are many great, fantastic persons in my class, in our school. People that try to feel for me even if they don't understand what I'm going through. Thank you for the support. if just someone could help me write this essay too...

I'm tired. I don't know how the others do it. Of course, they complain too, just like me, but somehow they manage to get through it with a smile on their face. As a miracle, I understand that I have been able to do that too! Wow. Not possible. But yet it is. "Ka see läheb mööda". YM grandmother's and my mother's favourite saying. "This too shall pass". That's what I'm waiting for. That it would pass. I want this period to be over. I want this year to be over. This schoolyear to be over. I want I want I want. I always want something, but never do anything to make it happen. Or I do and I don't understand that I'm doing it.

Wow. This has gotten long. Not exactly a book material, but still. My thoughts, my feelings, all coming from inside me. Read it if you want, don't read it if you don't want. I don't really care. Suggestions are welcome in the comments section. Good night, and good luck.