Демоны в одиночестве

Когда восвышенные чувства,
Свобода, слава и любовь
И вдохновенные искусства
Так сильно волновали кровь, 
Часы надежд и наслаждений
Тоской внезапной осеня,
Тогда какой-то злобный гений
Стал тайно навещать меня.

Ах, Пушкин. Я не могу вас оставлять. Лето так суровое.

 Это всё

Hierographology

What is it with your nature that taunts me so?

Immobile by virtue of your birth and circumstance

Yet so artful, so capable of moving even the most hardened of souls

With a single masterful touch

Some take refuge in your philosophy

And find solace in your infinite wisdom

The prodigal creature that returns

Finds absolution in your breast

A seeker entombed in his own discernments

Is enlightened by your caress

And the disciple who blundered in his youth

Revels in triumph before your truth

Standing before you, at this juncture

Without qualms, without reservations

I am prepared to enter your pyre

In hopes of seizing redemption

From this wayward desire

And so I place my world upon your feet

This paltry life that is so incomplete

Purge me from this mindless obsession

Such is the crux of my confession

A very Gregor Samsa morning

Дорогие друзья,


"As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect." 


Have you ever had one of those mornings? I had one today, and was almost late for a meeting.


Where was my Grete when I needed her?


Это всё

Talk some sense into this head

Дорогие друзья,

I am as clueless as I've ever been.  Idk what time Blogger says this thing is posted, I won't bother fixing my clock/timezone, but it is 10pm here, and the sun has just fully set.  The air is dry, reeked in sweat and uncertainties.

Summer is in full swing.

And I am staring at this foolscap sheet plastered on my bulletin board for the past few days, about to do something rash and probably unwise for a young woman in my position, but I haven't a care of what others conceive of this crazy plan.

Goodbye mundane existence. Hello world! :)

Heads up, sojourners. Full-on Kerouacian mode has been activated. I also need my Liz Gilbert moment. Dolce far niente, mi amici!


Это всё

First night with Josef K.

Ditched plans with lovely company.  I have the most wonderful friends in the world, but sometimes people are less profound than papers with words.

The introvert has resurfaced, and she is unstoppable.

And thus begins my reading on a lovely summer night.  First to cross off from my list - Kafka's The Trial.

Let's hope Josef K. is as riveting as Gregor Samsa, and less confusing than Cincinnatus C..

I rest my case.

 Это всё

Stranger Than Fiction

Ты знаешь...

Who are you now?

Perception is reality.  How much of fiction is fact, and how much of fact is real?

This world is a void, and I am in exile.

I don't know myself anymore.

Abysmal

Exactly my feelings at this moment.

It has been a month since I've actually posted something here.  That alone should account for my
merciless schedule.

I felt like I had sealed a Faustian bargain with the academia as a Humanities student. Really, this past month has just driven me hysterical to the point where I considered lobotomy.

30 nights of endless tappings on the keyboard. 30 nights of insomnia. 30 nights of system overload.
30 days of being zombified.

Still, I survived academic purgatory.  Here's to the end of my sophomore year.  Waiting for my Russian finals to officially conclude the term.

Despite this [-----] close to Ophelia, I persevered.

God, you have my gratitude.  I am but Your humble servant.

Till next time,
До свидания