I overslept today. I was supposed to be part of the Manchester IV, but I overslept today...
So I slowly rushed to the Tin Can when I woke up. Looking outside the window, the sun was spilled all over pavements that I was not going to chase. Talking the shortcut, I reached the bus station. The feeling that I had even before I had left the bed was stillness, and still it was. I saw the bus in the station from the moment I took a turn for Wilmslow Rd. Usually, I run for the bus. Today it was not the case. I would not run. As it turns out, the bus waited for me...
When I got inside the tin can, no noise. Everyone was inside their rooms, debating. And there I was, all alone, wandering the corridors of Uni Place. I walked around the first floor; no one was even in the rooms. I went to the third floor, where I decided not to interrupt any debates, and sat down in front of one of the doors listening to a debate about the internet in totalitarian regimes. I did not get much out of it, because the activity inside the room was not enough to disturb the nothingness around me. I got up, meandered for some more, and stopped in front of the large window facing Oxford Rd. The most silent that floor has ever been since I came to know it in September was at that particular moment. Outside, a guy was playing with a ball while crossing the street, only one bus, a couple holding hands, and the sun above Manchester, and the clouds circling the sun...
When the round had ended, the hustle and bustle of the usual tin can started again. It was too late for me I'm afraid. The whole day I was still, ignoring most people around me, sitting alone most of the time, without any fears of looking awkward. I watched some debates, and actively refused to judge or take any social roles. I was pretending to observe, when in fact all I was doing was in fact, rejoicing the lull instilled in me earlier. When the first day of the tournament ended, most people went for the Font Bar in Fallowfield. I followed...and sat in my non-caring awkwardness, only talking to the occasional passer-by and mostly lingering around Rugile, my Lithuanian friend, only talking when she talked and only replying when needed...
Somehow sitting alone in the corner, feels as comfortable as it is weird and lonely...So, today, I celebrated my socially weird moments and ignored all and any small talk.
...because the tin can felt good being quiet..
Sunday 27 February 2011
Wednesday 9 February 2011
How I am not a Murakami character, even though I wish I were
I am full.
Apart from one tutorial, all I did today was eat. I started my morning off with some Nutella and went on to pleasure myself with tuna salad with sweet corn, continued with chicken in tomato, garlic and just a spoonful of yoghurt sauce. In the end, Bolo suggested we cook something sweet and so we did some meringues. This was not enough...so a cake with cinnamon, bananas and other randomly mixed ingredients is waiting for us in the oven, two cakes to be more precise. So yes, I am full. Why is it that I feel such trivial things become paramount under the influence of my burning tongue covered in indian snaks? I don`t know. Does it matter? It does not.. It`s just that the smell of a possibly good cake is bursting out of the oven, and at this point I just feel that the sound of wallnuts cracking in your bare, bruised hands is finally worth it. We`re students, we can`t be expected to have anything as sophisticated as a nutcracker...
This day of eating reminds me of the novels of Haruki Murakami. Often times, his lonely characters resolve to eating as much as they can. They describe the process, they describe the ingredients, the cooking, the infusion of multiple flavours on their taste buds. These characters are usually standing on the verge on stepping in another world, that is not readily comprehensible, nor is it human in nature. This alter-world usually invades the individuals in their isolation. Since they are taken by surprise (and yet they don`t know that they`re slowly overstepping boundaries), they have to cling to anything that is worldly to them.
The above paragraph does not describe me, even though I sometimes feel I imerge myself in my own alter-world. By all means, this is not something that I would describe as being negative. Not even by a margin. By definition, we have to go away sometimes and then return upon having had our own epiphanies. But my day of eating has not been a step towards an epiphany. It was just a short break from the hugely commercial life that I am leading (by pure choice, true satisfaction and hedonistic desires and not by outer stimuli).
From time to time, I will resort, however, to clingging. This may seem as a rupture. It`s not one. I will keep on hanging on to the shaky floor in the Ritz and to the smell of beer that lurks around the upper floor. How could I not let the music in Tiger Tiger get glued on the clothes I so much love. It would be amoral not to allow alcohol destroy at least 50.000 neurons every time we meet. It would be stupid not to indulge myself to the night bus and to put it bluntly I could not give up the smoothness of Dunhill Finecut.
So now, while sipping on chocolate milk after having eaten half a mango, I realize that it is true that I do the clingging, but I could not be further away from a Haruki Murakami novel. If characters tend to hold dear to their hearts common actions, it seems that here, the common actions hold me dear to their hearts...
Apart from one tutorial, all I did today was eat. I started my morning off with some Nutella and went on to pleasure myself with tuna salad with sweet corn, continued with chicken in tomato, garlic and just a spoonful of yoghurt sauce. In the end, Bolo suggested we cook something sweet and so we did some meringues. This was not enough...so a cake with cinnamon, bananas and other randomly mixed ingredients is waiting for us in the oven, two cakes to be more precise. So yes, I am full. Why is it that I feel such trivial things become paramount under the influence of my burning tongue covered in indian snaks? I don`t know. Does it matter? It does not.. It`s just that the smell of a possibly good cake is bursting out of the oven, and at this point I just feel that the sound of wallnuts cracking in your bare, bruised hands is finally worth it. We`re students, we can`t be expected to have anything as sophisticated as a nutcracker...
This day of eating reminds me of the novels of Haruki Murakami. Often times, his lonely characters resolve to eating as much as they can. They describe the process, they describe the ingredients, the cooking, the infusion of multiple flavours on their taste buds. These characters are usually standing on the verge on stepping in another world, that is not readily comprehensible, nor is it human in nature. This alter-world usually invades the individuals in their isolation. Since they are taken by surprise (and yet they don`t know that they`re slowly overstepping boundaries), they have to cling to anything that is worldly to them.
The above paragraph does not describe me, even though I sometimes feel I imerge myself in my own alter-world. By all means, this is not something that I would describe as being negative. Not even by a margin. By definition, we have to go away sometimes and then return upon having had our own epiphanies. But my day of eating has not been a step towards an epiphany. It was just a short break from the hugely commercial life that I am leading (by pure choice, true satisfaction and hedonistic desires and not by outer stimuli).
From time to time, I will resort, however, to clingging. This may seem as a rupture. It`s not one. I will keep on hanging on to the shaky floor in the Ritz and to the smell of beer that lurks around the upper floor. How could I not let the music in Tiger Tiger get glued on the clothes I so much love. It would be amoral not to allow alcohol destroy at least 50.000 neurons every time we meet. It would be stupid not to indulge myself to the night bus and to put it bluntly I could not give up the smoothness of Dunhill Finecut.
So now, while sipping on chocolate milk after having eaten half a mango, I realize that it is true that I do the clingging, but I could not be further away from a Haruki Murakami novel. If characters tend to hold dear to their hearts common actions, it seems that here, the common actions hold me dear to their hearts...
Tuesday 1 February 2011
Studying and drinking out of the suitcase
I woke up at 5 pm today. Unlike november or december, the day has already started to get longer and there was still some sunlight outside. Bolo claims that she only likes to get up from the bed when streetlights are on. Like it or not, that's the case, with me too, I suppose. Haven`t had time to eat, or was not in the mood to eat, and I am sort of starving now, but I find it that my inspiration for posting only comes when at least one need is not satisfied (in this case, my need for food), in other cases the need to splurge, or to go out, or even the need to pee. The more disatisfied needs, the grater the inspiration to write...
So here I am, a bit dizzy due to lack of food for more than 15 hours, my fingers slowly shaking from the caffeine and nicotine intake, but not in the mood to solve these problems, not yet at least. As it is with me, I have become addicted to Rihanna's S&M song and have been listening to it for the past several hours. The fact of the matter is that I`m still recuperating after the past 2.5 weeks.
The moment I landed in Amsterdam for my layover, I opened up my laptop and started reading for one of the essays (since I had lost my connection and was earth-bound for more hours than supposed). I got home, after 2 almost crash-landings and started reading and writing, without even considering to unpack my suitcase. This routine went on for almost 2 weeks, and after 2 weeks my bags were still unpacked on the floor of my room. Of course, saying they were unpacked on the floor is just an understatement. I needed clothes, and various items from the baggage, so one by one my clothes were removed. The closet was unfortunately full of other messy clothes, so no other place to put dirty stuff other than the floor. Slowly, but surely, the floor in my room disappeared under the heaviness of many items. Obviously, my study-mess extended to the rest of the house. The living room was covered in lecture notes, lecture slides, articles, graphs, ruined pieces of paper, broken pens, and stashes of cigarette ends, empty bottles of coke, empty mugs (previously filled with green tea or coffee), post-its. I will not even mention the kitchen. Needless to day, things got worse on a daily basis. My brain was slowly melting with formulae, graphs and economic theories to the point where no more economists could fit my brain. After 3 exams, I was more exhausted than I had ever been after any given 3 exams. For the fourth one, I simply lingered on the lecture notes and on the textbook until I memorized the most important things without much understanding of the things in it. As was the case with me, Bolo was on the verge of extinction with great wisdom tooth pains (it`s ironic how her wisdom pains started to get stronger when she needed her wisdom most). Going to bed, every night I was only dreaming of the things I was supposed to learn. I did have one of the few dreams in my life where neither me nor people I know were the main characters. It is true though, that the action took place in a house resembling my own. I was dreaming about a family of bank robbers whose actions were obviously questionable, and in response, their neighbours took revenge on them by installing a device that was only audible by them and made them go crazy. It should be clear by now that the sound making the lead characters go crazy was the mere ringing of my mobile phone trying to wake me up to start studying again...
After 2 weeks of such maddening things, all had come to an end. Destroying my body was not close to an end though. After 3 hours of sleep, the only thing I could think about (especially since it was Ilai's birthday), was dancing and intoxicating myself with alcohol to wash up whatever economics was still stuck in my brain. So, we had a few guests, cooked 4 large pizzas and had pre-drinks before going to a club in lovely Manchester. At the club, the spluring went on, and I can proudly say that I did not get sick, I got merely dizzy. While this was going on, the floor in my room was even more covered in clothes, and the 4 suitcases on the floor were sinking even more in my world. Not too much sleep, and then clubing again. This time it was salsa time, and after that, a party till 5 am in a student hall. The third night of Ilai's b-day, was only rummy, beer and several good laughs...
Now, that everything is cleaned up, that some clothes are clean and that the room is sort of clean, after twelve hours of sleep I can only think that all of this was okay "cuz I may be bad, but I`m perfectly good at it".
So here I am, a bit dizzy due to lack of food for more than 15 hours, my fingers slowly shaking from the caffeine and nicotine intake, but not in the mood to solve these problems, not yet at least. As it is with me, I have become addicted to Rihanna's S&M song and have been listening to it for the past several hours. The fact of the matter is that I`m still recuperating after the past 2.5 weeks.
The moment I landed in Amsterdam for my layover, I opened up my laptop and started reading for one of the essays (since I had lost my connection and was earth-bound for more hours than supposed). I got home, after 2 almost crash-landings and started reading and writing, without even considering to unpack my suitcase. This routine went on for almost 2 weeks, and after 2 weeks my bags were still unpacked on the floor of my room. Of course, saying they were unpacked on the floor is just an understatement. I needed clothes, and various items from the baggage, so one by one my clothes were removed. The closet was unfortunately full of other messy clothes, so no other place to put dirty stuff other than the floor. Slowly, but surely, the floor in my room disappeared under the heaviness of many items. Obviously, my study-mess extended to the rest of the house. The living room was covered in lecture notes, lecture slides, articles, graphs, ruined pieces of paper, broken pens, and stashes of cigarette ends, empty bottles of coke, empty mugs (previously filled with green tea or coffee), post-its. I will not even mention the kitchen. Needless to day, things got worse on a daily basis. My brain was slowly melting with formulae, graphs and economic theories to the point where no more economists could fit my brain. After 3 exams, I was more exhausted than I had ever been after any given 3 exams. For the fourth one, I simply lingered on the lecture notes and on the textbook until I memorized the most important things without much understanding of the things in it. As was the case with me, Bolo was on the verge of extinction with great wisdom tooth pains (it`s ironic how her wisdom pains started to get stronger when she needed her wisdom most). Going to bed, every night I was only dreaming of the things I was supposed to learn. I did have one of the few dreams in my life where neither me nor people I know were the main characters. It is true though, that the action took place in a house resembling my own. I was dreaming about a family of bank robbers whose actions were obviously questionable, and in response, their neighbours took revenge on them by installing a device that was only audible by them and made them go crazy. It should be clear by now that the sound making the lead characters go crazy was the mere ringing of my mobile phone trying to wake me up to start studying again...
After 2 weeks of such maddening things, all had come to an end. Destroying my body was not close to an end though. After 3 hours of sleep, the only thing I could think about (especially since it was Ilai's birthday), was dancing and intoxicating myself with alcohol to wash up whatever economics was still stuck in my brain. So, we had a few guests, cooked 4 large pizzas and had pre-drinks before going to a club in lovely Manchester. At the club, the spluring went on, and I can proudly say that I did not get sick, I got merely dizzy. While this was going on, the floor in my room was even more covered in clothes, and the 4 suitcases on the floor were sinking even more in my world. Not too much sleep, and then clubing again. This time it was salsa time, and after that, a party till 5 am in a student hall. The third night of Ilai's b-day, was only rummy, beer and several good laughs...
Now, that everything is cleaned up, that some clothes are clean and that the room is sort of clean, after twelve hours of sleep I can only think that all of this was okay "cuz I may be bad, but I`m perfectly good at it".
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