It's a sad and beautiful world indeed!

The only sensible question is why do I keep writing on this thing?

"Why do I keep counting.."

I love giving myself the exact room to just go mental and write about random things, most of the times I'm just crying my fucking heart out and complaining about my miserable life. 
Let's face it. My life's not miserable. I know nothing of people who have miserable lives and I shan't go on like I'm the person who's having the hardest time on earth 'cos that's not true.
We lack honesty, especially about ourselves.

Now that I revealed the complete uselessness of my writing, I should get back to my usual sentimental devastation. OH GOD I'M LONELY NOBODY WOULD CARE FOR ME EVERYBODY IGNORES ME. Well that's pretty much a summary of it, but that's what all I love to write about means.

Yeah, that is it. I am quite lonely sometimes, but not as alone as I would like to look. I'm alone, mostly because I choose to be, and after saying that, what do I have to complain about? I mean, it's me, nothing else.
Then here it comes, the going around about the fact that I do nothing to sort out of my (chosen) isolation. The sadness about me not giving the eye to all the boys I see around meself and therefore being categorised (I tend to categorise myself a lot actually, but other people do too) as the one who doesn't care about THAT. The mysterious and superior girl.
Beware of the superior girl.
OH SUPERIOR? Superior to what?

And this is self-pity just the same. This ironic sarcastic view of my self-pity is self-pity.

Going to bed is always the best idea. And I'm going to bed (alone.. OH GOD I'M LONELY NOBODY WOULD CARE FOR ME EVERYBODY IGNORES ME  and all that..).

Sleep well.

Instead of French.

Yes, I should do a bit of French studying at the moment, but guess what? I don't want to.

I just want to write some things that go through my mind. A perfect list of what I'm worried about lately:

- I can't be serious about school any more

- I want to go to university in Vienna and my german sucks

- I therefore have to get some extra german lessons

- I'm going to work both on saturday and sunday this weekend, and maybe I've almost forgotten how to work

- I miss Ireland

- I fall for people I see on the bus

- I can't think of any bloody way to go up to him and say "Hi there, shall we have a talk?"

- I actually have never ever been able to do something like that in any possible or impossible way

- I'm not giving a shit about the french grammar book I have just below my eyes

- I'm writing nonsense while I should be going to bed

- I haven't been very kind to my friends recently

- I started listening to Peter Gabriel and the first records of Genesis, a band I've always rejected, now my father rejoices

- I have to take an awful exam at the end of this last school year

- I have to revise the play I'm in everyfriggingday

- I can't remember it anyhow and I don't know why (or maybe I do)

- I still have to see loads of films with John Cusack in them, but I can't find time or DVD players

- I will never be able to study enough to get my driving licence

- I'm still reading High Fidelity, but I already have 1984 by George Orwell and Le Malentendu by Irène Nemirovski waiting for me to read them

- The Subjonctif tense shouldn't have been invented, French and people studying it would be less frustrated

- I'm sleepy

- I miss the Austrians

- That guy was way too young why would I even think of something like that in the first place?

- My friends will go out while I'm happily working tomorrow night

- I have to get up at six tomorrow

- I actually should get up at six every morning, except for Sundays

- I was too euphoric yesterday and too depressed today, and I don't have a real reason for both of these feelings

- Que je sois, que tu sois, qu'il soit, que nous soyons, que vous soyez, qu'ils soient.

Can you see worries for any other person but MYSELF? I'm bloody selfish. And that's this freaking society's fault, is it not?

Auf wiedersehen.

Le tourbillon de la vie.

Jules: "Remarquez bien que les mots ne peuvent pas avoir la même valeur puisque ils n'on pas le même sexe.

Nous disons, en allemand, Le guerre, Le mort, Le lune alors que soleil et amour sont du sexe féminin: La soleil, La amour.

La vie est neutre."

I heard so much about this film, but never really got interested, until yesterday.

Then I understood why I heard that much about it.

I also think I've fallen for Oskar Werner.

Here we go again.

Amn't I the laziest person about blogs? Look what I've done with this: nothing for more than six months!

Meanwhile I managed to come back from Ireland, and to go back there for a week,

and to get unbelievably freaked out by school,

and to see my lovely camera disappearing, stolen by f thieves,

and to start thinking I have a little bit of an OCD problem,

and to start working,

and (that's certainly the best of them all) to get a "mystical crisis"(is that how I should call it?).

It's kind of difficult getting back to this website. I used to write posts thinking about myself as a very sad and unsatisfied person but I didn't know what I had to go through.

An Italian poet used to say that men are happy as long as they're ignorant; I'm not sure whether he's absolutely right, in my opinion, but I must say that, recently, I have been thinking a lot about his point of view.

I don't want to write about my thoughts, not right now at least. I just wanted to make sure my bloggyblog is doing fine and not feeling alone and forsaken.

It's also very late, and I should really get some sleep since I'm being kind of weird in what I write.

Gooooodnight.

Or are we dancer?

Religion class: the meaning of life.
What does life mean? Why are we here?
Oh, for god's sake.

They made us listen to this song. It's been in my ipod for a long time, and sometimes I just adore it, but I had never been able to find a meaning to those words. It just give me the sense of unsolved questions.
Today I had the lyrics to read and at the same time had to think about the meaning of life.

Are we what we think we are? What do we think we are?
Sometimes it feels like we're just guided by something else, are we conscious of ourselves? Are we just a tiny insignificant part of something we don't even know?

I thought of the man who sings in the Killers, I don't even remember his name, I wanted to hug him and say "Oh my goodness, I don't know anything either".

Never thought a religion class could really make me think.

And I'm on my knees

looking for the answer.

Take on me, take me on. I'll be gone, in a day or two.

I perfectly know how to wait.

Wait for something to come my way.

I wait because I'm afraid.

I'm used to lose.

But have I ever tried?

After a week.

Here we go.
A week has gone. The first week in this cloudy and windy land.
The last days before leaving I was too excited even to think about it clearly. And now I'm here.
When I stop to think about it, it's like I'm realising it for the first time.
One of my dreams has come true: I'm living for more than three months in another country where all I can hear is english english english (and yes, just some irish but I can't understand a word).

And now?
Everyone says I'm going to have a terrific experience, have fun, meet new people, and do great things. They're all right: I'm damn lucky!
So how can I disappoint them? How can I disappoint myself by being not happy as I thought I would be?

This ain't another bloody post in which I'm going to feel sorry for my poor soul. I'm sick of all this.

I'd said to myself I shouldn't have had any expectations. It would have been such a good thing. But now I think that actually it's impossible. Expectations come to your mind without any kind of warning. You just have them.
So, if I'm not having what I f expected I just have to get everything from what I have here and now.
That's not easy but that's the only thing I can do.

Go do your homewotk, Julie. Come on.