In honour of a solstice day, past and present

I don't think I shall stay up for this one. But I did for the last one, writing

...I staid up during the solstice… not as a celebration of life necessarily given the minor detail that I have been writing mini-critiques for my classmates' econometric papers. Forget about that.

This is my celebration of life, my pay-back time for the past few days. I started the night with friends, watching the Holland-Argentina game in a square with hundreds of people, dancing on a stage and enjoying hooligan behavior. Tonight I have drunk coke, I have assembled my favorite music, made CDs, thought of quotes, I have imagined a great plan for next year...

I staid up the night of June the 21st, oblvious to my surroundings, forgetting I hadn't slept during the night of the 19th either, when I had cried at the end of the night and scribbled little notes before, -

Finally, the cacophony has calmed down and Geneva is at rest…. Much like I am used to. I never thought I would thank the gods for silence and calm. Perhaps they were teaching me a lesson by having the Fete de la Musique coincide with the weekend before my paper-presentation. If so, their lesson was harsh and against the Universe’s Laws on Fun and Enjoyment.

Although I have cared very little for the institutions of learning and their methods for many years now, the past week certainly marks one of the all-time lows. The Djajic exam was an all-consuming exercise in suppressing my feelings about learning other people’s thoughts by heart, “which I hate” (obviously).

Now, I am writing about creativity and I have no one but myself to blame for the lateness of the hour.

(…) 05:46 De zon, de zon komt op.

I slept a total of maybe 20 hours in five days. I kept saying I am too old for this. (I did. 22-year olds have a right to feel too old for things, too). Maybe it was worth it, maybe it made me feel alive in a bizar way. I was so inexplicably angry and high on life at the same time. At last, somehow, strangely, I found myself smoking a cigar and sitting by myself on the street for a moment, in my mini-dress and absurd heels, while everyone was attending the last class dinner, inside. Keeping myself together but only the best I could, and the best was not so good; cherishing my instability, the emotional fragility that comes with depriving oneself of sleep; fuming at friends at their every word; living the drama of departure.

Yeah, goodbye was a long time ago.