I have been sitting silent for hours just watching the birds flying in the breeze, the light fade away, the water silently passing by, and tried to say my goodbyes.

There is so much I am not certain I told you enough, things I wish I could have done once more, and it all makes me feel really forelorn.

I wish to hear you speak in you calm, estonian voice and be woken up by you in the kitchen making an awful lot of noise.

I wish to feel the warmth as you cheek press against mine when we kiss, and there is so many other things I will deeply miss.

It did not just only catch me with surprise, because you have persisted not once but at least more than twice.

I was not willing to let go of the comfort of having you near, because for me you have always been something very dear.

Who will now write me letters to let me know eveything stays the same, and keep me from going menatlly insane? 

Ever since I was too little to walk, you have been there willing to listen whenever I wanted to have a talk.

I am glad for every second you were by my side, even for that time when we had a quarrel and I went behind your makeup table to hide.

So yes I am sad and feel as if my heart will break, but I am also grateful and happy for your sake.

In this days sad place, at least the fact that it happended your way, brings a smile to my face.

I am grateful for the fact that it happened swiftly without you feeling any pain, although a world without you seem pretty lame.

You will now be with me in memories, and that way this pain is bitterly sweet.

So although I have been forced to face that this is where we will part, I will always carry you with me in my heart.

Kali Kali, jag älskar dig farmor.

If there is something I really dislike, it is when people are not being honest and straight forward but instead bitch behind my back. It makes me lose respect for that person, and it makes me really upset. What upsets me even further is when people get it all wrong, and instead of asking me to explain it further and clearify what I mean, tell others that I have said something which is not true.

 

People do not have to agree with one another, nor do they necessarily have to like one another. Having said that I think what we all have to do, in any given situation, respect other peoples right for an opinion, to express feelings and thoughts, and more so when someone actually has the courage or strength to in fact be honest enough to share his or her more personal sides.

 

I know many people who does not want to get involved, and therefore just hold their opinions to themselves, and even hide their true faces, just to avoid confontation. I am not saying that it is anything wrong with that, I understand why they choose that approach. It just so happens that I share my experiences, feeling and thoughts. I do not do it to put others down, or because I am necessarily right. I do not do it to bitch behind other peoples back, no I do it because hiding the truth never has been an approach which has worked for me. I do it to tell my friends and family what I am going through. Another reason is that I feel way better when I have put it down into words, it ease the burden a bit.

 

If there is something I have learnt from all my friends, it is that when someone share their personal feelings and thoughts, with you -you do not go and retell it in different words to others. You dont say that what that person is feeling is wrong! It cant be wrong, if it is a feeling. Instead you listen, and if it really bothers you so much you feel you have to discuss it, you discuss it with the person not behind that person's back. It is common sense that if you follow those rules, you will not only avoid hurting others, you will also avoid a lot of trouble, and gain respect. The good thing with the way I express myself, is that you do not have to read it. You have an option not to. If however you do read what I write, please respect it as well.

 

 

 

I just talked to an old friend, and it made me all happy and emotional inside.

 

Now when I am living in a new place, and in so many ways creating a new life, you do feel as if you are loosing touch with your old life. My friends may still be there for me, but that is so easy to forget, when I no longer see them as much as I used to. I know that I must make new connections, and adapt to the life here. I am worried that if I do not, suddenly I will be standing there all alone, without any friends at all.

 

Thank you. For showing me that despite the time and distance that pass between us, you are still my friend. It is not only me who is holding on to the past, unwilling to let go. You too consider me important! You were sitting there in your little towel, and even told your boyfriend not to unwrap it, because you wanted to talk to me and I was important. Lovely! I think something which makes my friends so important to me right now, is that they ensure me that I do not have to compromise myself. It is ok to be who I am, and live the life I prefer, instead of following the flow.

 

I am at the stage in life where all I want is my own place, to live with my boyfriend, have a puppy and settle down. I want my friends and family around me, and cook complicated dinners, have a drink after work, snuggle up with a book and the dog in my lap, and sleep with my partners arms wrapped around me. I want couples dinners, to go out for coctails with my girlfriends, see my mother for lunch, and watch a movie with my sisters. I want to worry about kitchen tables, morgages, loans, and go on miniweekends to random places.  Instead what am I doing for the next four years? Well I am without a permanent home, as I live 6 months with my family, and 6 months in the UK. I am here to study, and that is all I am doing, although it feels as if everyone around me is partying. I even fell as if it is wrong to want these things, and to be sick of parties where everyone gets completely wasted, someone throws up, someone gets into a fight and everyone hook up with someone.

 

To talk to my friend who is living the life, I am longing for, made me a bit jealous. She does deserve it, and there is probably aspects of my life she envy as well, as it turned out. But talking to her, and hearing how some of our common friends are finishing uni, whilst others have turned into alcoholics and nannies- made me wonder if what I am doing is right? I mean I wish I was done with my degree, and could just start living my life. I know uni is also a way of living, but I am bored already. However this is what I want to do, and I am going to do it properly. I have no wish to start working with disabeled teenagers for the rest of my life, just because I did not focus on my degree. So I am going to be focused and boring.

 

The thought of being percieved as boring, has been a burden since I got here. I do want to make friends, but I do not consider the social aspects of life here to be fun. I have not got time to do anything which I do not consider fun, with two degrees and a whole new language to learn, the little spare time I have got is to valueable to throw away. In that case I much rader just continue studying, or write an email to an old friend, or go for a run. That is not because I do not like the people around me, but this is just not a game I want to play. Everyone around me can teach me something new, and that is one of the things which make it so fun to get to know new friends. However I sconsider the friends I have got extremly important, and I do not want to lose them. Hence it feels good to know that they are still there, and that they understand me.

 

In NZ when we were 18, the year most people started uni, we did what everyone is doing now. We partied a lot, it was so much drama, it was dress up parties such as Vickis unforgetable pimps and prostitute party, it was roller discos and there was drinking games. We even ran around with plastic bags on our heads, and walked baredfoot in to town in the middle of winter. I am not saying I did not enjoy myself, because I loved it! It is just that now, I am sick of it. Here it feels as if people do  not understand that, and I do not have a choice, because that is what going out is like here. However talking to my dear grubby bubby, made me feel as if it is not just my culture which makes me feel bored with this. Despite the fact that we come from two different cultures, she understood. She, and the other kiwis are actually at the same stage in life as I am. That was such a comfort to know.

 

If I say Puss, you say .....

I was sitting in the kitchen today, and it was only two of us, which is very rare. We started talking about the dynamics in our flat. Is it always like this, every year, in each flat? All the drama? And then this someone made a remark on the lack of compassion in human nature, that becomes so evident when you are 16 people sharing a home.

One would think that since we are living together everyone would try to be on their best behaviour, care about others, work together to keep the common areas clean for example and most importantly that there would be a mutual respect for everyone else. However this is far from true, at least not at this stage of our friendship.

 

In ways we are like a big family. We are all very different, with a range of people who would probably not even talk to each other in real life. We have different interests, opinions, backgrounds, experiences, routines, music tastes, goals, dreams and values. This does not mean that we do not all get along, because we actually do. No one is excluded either, although of course certain bounds are made between people. There is several positive aspects due to our differences. You find yourself engaged in a conversation about something, where the other person is saying how he really does not believe in the evolution, just as strongly as you do not believe as the Bible being God's words. You find yourself sharing others experiences and knowledge, as they share their personal life with you. Things which I have never had to worry about, or cared about, suddenly makes sense, and some of my own worries does not. In fact it is great to live with all the others, because it makes you aware of yourself, your flaws as well as the characteristics you are proud of, it makes you reevaluate things, and develop as a human being.

 

Besides all these good aspects that I very much appreciate in our interaction, I am also appauled with other aspects of this life. We are 16 adults, all personally responsible for our own lives. We are supposed to do our own cooking, cleaning, washing etc. We are responsible for taking care of ourselves, but also of taking care of our home! Yes well we do have a cleaner who comes in five days a week, and what we would do without Linda I honestly do not know. Or well I do, we would be buried in our own mess. I would certainly not survive.  One would be surprsied about how quickly we manage to create this massive mess. However when I say responsibility for our own home, I do not only mean that we all should make sure to wash our plates. Our home is the whole flat, and all the people who live in it. So that responsibilty to take care of the home, is extended to include us caring and showing compassion towards one another.

 

I can do with the messy kitchen, I simply choose not to cook, because it puts me off. I can not do with an awkward climate in the flat, or people stepping on one another to get what they want, or ignoring other peoples feelings. Yes we all have to put ourselves first, and hence you will have to step on some toes. It is indeed not realistic that we will all become the best of friends. But neither is it necessary to create a more complicated mess than we are already living in. I am afraid it will happen anyway, as someone so gently implied today, and I think that would be a real pitty. Maybe I am just worrying, and shoudl not bother. However that is only because I do like it here, and do not want things to fall apart. I am not saying that they will, but still to qoute someone else "the lack of compassion surprises me"

 

 

A language is so much more than just words that you can translate into different languages. A language is a way of life: because it encapsulate both the historical development of a culture, as well as many of the characteristics existing within a culture.

 

A language has a specific rhythym; it can be smooth, harsh, fast, slow, defined, blurry, warm or cold. When someone speaks in an other langauge is also like the whole being transform, they move their hands  and their whole body differently and change their facial expressions as well as their tone of voice.

 

In swedish we use our tone of voice to express ourselves, and in how we pronunce something we put values such as being polite, rude, angry or funny. I remember when I moved to NZ and had read pages and pages, reminding me to say please constantly. Evidently that was because we in Sweden do not use that word, although it does exist, because we express that please differently. I did not do that bad, at least not when it came to the formal language used to those I thought I had to be polite to, such as teachers and adults. However I remember Tim, my boyfriend at the time,  telling me he thought I was rude who just told hom to do things for me, without asking nicely. He could not tell by the tone of my voice, whilst I thought the word please was totally unnecessary. In reverse I guess it also meant that I have a tendency to think that people are upset, mad and concerned when they are not because I read too much into the english pronunciation.

 

Now I am learning Spanish. It is going very fast, with classes everyday, and to be honest I do not feel as if I know that much at all. What I am becoming used to is the way you have to smile to say "a", and how "j" is painful, how it is all very touchy feely, and an explosion of words all put together into a long flow, where the emotions are evident.

 

If english is very formal, cold and simple, Spanish is very soft, warm and fast. Italian was faster, with even more exagerated up's n down's, and although the emotions was as evident if not more so, it was not as soft. French I did first, which may be why consider it to be more complicated, cold, implicit and formal, but with a beautiful posh sound. What about swedish then, which after all is my native tongue? That is the interesting aspect of it all really, I honestly do not know. I have been told it is very complicated, but we have the same word for are/is depending on who we mean, and not at all as many different tenses.

 

I wonder how you can interpret the sound of a language into the culture. I mean I think it suits pretty well, but that may just be because I have ideas of what each culture stands for.

 

It is funny who I can observe other languages, but not my own.

What would you consider to be your home?

Is it the place where you grew up, where you are living right now, or where your family live?

 

Normally it is as the saying goes that "there is no place like home"! But what is it which makes you consider a place your home? I remember when I lived for a year in this awful turqoise room in NZ, and it certainly never felt like home. However I have also basically lived together with someone, and then that place although it was not my things or taste, really did feel as home.

 

Despite the short period of time I have spent here, I realised I do see it as my home away from home. The thought of having to move, whether it be for a night or permanent, felt awful. This is my home now. I feel comfortable, at peace and secure here. It is just not the curtains, posters, plants, lamps and pillows which makes it look like home that matter. The habitual patterns, such as the shower, kitchen, bathroom, front door, the lift -all those things I have become so used to. The people as well, and the noises at all times a day. Like I can tell by the sound who is in the shower, who's alarm thats going off in the morning, who is listening to music, who is talking in the kitchen etc. It feels as I am coming home when I am greeted by that.

 

One of the thoughts which has always kept me going, is the thought of home. Just the knowledge that it is there, that it is a possibility to go home, and that I will come home again, -is enough to get me through the most challenging and lonely experiences. I do not even have to go home then, as long as I know that home exists, and have that security. I really do see home as a place where I can always just relax, and be myself.

 

Home is not "wherever I lay my hat", because for me there is so much more than that in the word home. Home is love, security, habits, where you have left marks in the sand, and where you do not only know the things around you, but a place which others also identify with you. My family is a big part of home, so is Stockholm. I do identify with the culture, the climate, the habits, and I love being back home. However I now in addition to that, consider this to be my home. A place I will be going back to, that I will miss when I go away, and with people and place I am growing fond of.

We all have bad days I suppose. A day when you wonder if everything is just for real, or if there has been some mistake and you are only dreaming. When you notice you are awake, and that pinching yourself in the arm in fact did hurt, you can not help laughing at all the misery.

 

Lets take the last 24 hours as an example.

 

Last night when I was laying in bed reading, something funny fell in my face. A drop of water. It was raining outisde, but my windows were closed. I thought it might have been some condensation from the windows, as it was warmer in my room than outside, and tired as I was, I was neither fit or in the need for an explanation. I even thought I might have been hallucinating.

 

This morning I pulled out the bottom draw of my bedside table, and followed by the crashing "WHAM" the whole table just fell apart. Rather it looked like an A, with the only draw still in place being the upper one. So much for neatly having tried to patch it together last night, when it feel apart for the first time. Not like that was something I remembered, the first thing in the morning when I pulled the draw out to put on underwear. The "wham" so kindly had to refresh my memory, and I gave up trying to fix it. Evidently it was not made to hold, and its not like I have purposely ruined it either.

 

Then of course my day went along, and nothing really bad happened, not until the day was over anyway. I got home and back into my cozy little nest here up in the tower. Although I notice a weet spot on my bedcover, I draw the conclusion it must be dirt. I start watching a movie, and suddenly it happens again. A water drop fall on my face. This time I was at my full senses and ran to catch a witness, who could guarantee that I was not hallucinating. With proof in hand, and after investigating it at a very close range, I went to see someone about it. The man just thought I had left my window open, or that I lived underneath the showers. When I finally convinced him that something indeed was leeking through the roof which is made out of nothing but concrete, he said it was probably just the guy above me who had left the window open and let it rain in. So whilst waiting for help, I went on my own little investigation spree. It turned out the guy above, who's name is actually Dave, was completely innocent! I crawled around on the floor, so that I could be certain of it. When I got back I had two intruders in my room, who was supposed to help. They had no clue what to do though, besides promising to send an ingeener in the morning because it looked very wierd indeed. They told me to mark out the spots its dripping from, with a marker pen, so I have two scary dark circles on the roof.

 

Not only is the leek still not solved, but very much alive and dripping. I have been told that depending on what they need to do in order to fix it, I may have to live somewhere else for a while, or even move to another flat or even tower for good! So totally clueless of the future, and with water above my head, I am expected to be calm and focus on my studies. The thought of moving all my stuff again, getting to know new people, and leave my lovely room where I am all settled in now -feels rather upseting. I wont even have time to move, I have heaps of studying to do, and no time to move. This things always happen to me though, it is unbelievable!

 

Hopefully I will wake up with a bit of luck in the morning!

 

What is the first thought that would come in to mind if you found yourslef stuck in an elevator with 8 other people? For me it was "I wonder how long time we have got before the air runs out?"

 

Although I was only stuck in there for like ten minutes, and I am not claustrophobic, I did not consider it funny. I mean indeed it ws hilarious to get stuck, because it so reminds me of all those endless movies where they climb out through the roof, tell eachothers life storeis, and become the best of friends. In reality however the only resembelance my experience had with the movies was that everyone quickly took on a role. We had

1-the guy praying in the corner,

2-the mute chinese in his dressing gown who glared grumpy at me when I asked him if he was ok,

3-the one who took the blame,

4-the one who just laughed throug it all,

5-the one who would rather be stuck with anyone else than just that person standing so near by,

6-the one who tried to get help and was familiar with the situation,

7-the one who I can not even remember,

8-the one who stayed calm and stood above it all and

9-the one who said what everybody else was thinking.

 

It is interesting though I would say, when we find ourselves in situations out of our own control, or being so called helpless. If we rely on others, or try to see all the ways in which to master the situation. What do you think off? How do you act? How do you feel? Personally even if I know that this is a rather reoccurent situation, I first thought of different ways to get out of there, and then after having grasped the situation, I thought about my friends and family. Because whenever you lay your life in someone elses hands, you can not take anything for granted. It is a matter of trust, and of course I do believe that the man who takes care of this building for a living, knows how to open a lift and get 9 students out of there, you never really know. This time for example he was instructing someone else on how to deal with the situation. She clearley did not know.

 

I did think for just a split second that I will never take the elevator again. Then that thought disappered, because evidently I will. When you live on the eleventh floor, you will consider the risk of dying in an elevator to be rather unlikely and hence the tiny risk is neglected due to your own lazyness, since you do not want to walk up and down eleven floors several  times a day. (done it twice all ready in less than 24 hours and that is enough). This was the first time I was stuck in an elevator, but I doubt that it will be my last.

 

 

I have been here now for over three weeks. I think that is the time it has taken for me to settle in, get used to the life, and identify myself in this new world which surrounds me.

 

Despite the messy kitchen, the constant partying, the ugly buildings, the fatty food, the poor nightclub, the grey weather, my little cell which is now my room, the tiny wardrobe, the shared bathroom, the hard bed and endless amount of pointless coins in this currency DESPITE all those things and many other, I like it here. I love what I am doing. Every single one of the courses I am doing is challenging and fun! Even the weather is on my side, because is there something more cosy than cuddeling up with a cup of tea and a book when you here the wind and rain crush against you windows?

 

It is a totally different world with 15 flatmates, as my new instant family. Of course it creates problems, but with respect and patience, you can come along way. Everyone care about each other, and although we come from different backgrounds, that just gives us new perspectives on life and the world. We do have the general problems of messy kitchens etc, but you learn to deal with problems and communicate. You get to know people you would otherwise never talk to, and although the most common subject of conversation is sex, you from there fall head over heels in deep religous conversations.

 

What I find to be most challenging is to be me, and stay true to myself. That is where I am at the moment, I have realised I must be strong enough to not let go of the very reasons why I am here. I came to Essex because it has the best department for Politics in the UK, and now when I am here I find that life is mostly about partying. I do love partying, but I find it not just different, but also rather boring. It is only then that the age difference becomes obvious and I feel like I do not fit in. I rather party the 6 months of the year when I am home, and study whilst I am here, because at least than when I actually do it I will enjoy it.

 

I love my room now, it feels so at home, I even have a green plant, which probably will die during the winter holidays. I love going for a run in the nature in the morning and feel the air I am running against, as a symbol for the struggle I go through. I think running is what keeps me sane, because it reminds me that I am doing this to get to a certain point. That I have a goal, which makes it all worth it. As someone said today it feels as if many people here can't even see the start, whilst I am focused on the finisihing line. Maybe that will make me boring, but I pray it is worth it.

 

It feels good to be able to be alone, contemplate and say no to partying and drinking. I just feel like I am the only one holding these values, and it makes me feel rather lonely. With that said, people listen and try to understand. So this is my life now, and it is not that bad. I just have to build up a life here which I can be satisfied with and proud of, even if it is not what I prefer.

 

 

answer "I would probably end up giving the most of it to charity I think"

 

I am going to be frank and say that I believe that to be pure bullshit! Even if it would be the fact in this case which I would say I do not think is likely, it is still in general bullshit. It is not just me who has a negative view of the world and my fellow human beings, but look at it from where we are today. If the majority of those owning the worlds wealth gave their money to charity, then the gap between rich and poor, developed and developing countries would hardly exist. Therefor I doubt that it would be any different if you suddenly got alot of money.

 

The question itself also leaves it in your hands to interpret the meaning of alot of money. Is it a sum of wealth that means you never have to work again, if not for pleasure? Is it when you have no debts, mortages or loans? Is it when you can pursue your dreams and goals? Or could it be that alot of money is what all of us in the west already posses, because we live above the poverty line of 1-2 US dollars a day? Furthermore how do you define "most of", is it when you give 51 % or more of the money to charity? Or is it when you first use your money to pay off student loan, buy yourself a house and invest in stocks, and give away a large proportion of what is left after that to charity?

 

I think humans by nature are greedy and selfish. That is not to say I do not believe in charity, or giving away money you do not need. But due to our selfishness we will always consider ourselves needing a larger armount of money than we in fact do. Also to give away money is selfish. It means we can distance ourself from the poverty, and ease our sense of guilt by simply transferring money from one bankaccount to another. The best gift you can give, is to become involved, to give your time to charity, not just money. If you honestly care about a problem, a group of people, an injustice our whatever it may be, you are more likely to get other involved and in the end solve the issue.

 

The thing is I think everyone around me have alot of money, just that they are not aware of it. All the possibilities we have, all the things we can do, our standard of living, the amount of choices available to us -it is all worth a great lot in money. We do not have to own money in the western world, if you are determind, stubborn and ambitious you can basically do whatever you want to do. So this amount of money that we have to our disposal, what do we do with it? We are definately not giving it away to charity, because then we would either use the possibities and do our very best at all times, or give them up to someone who is more deserving. For example we can use the student. A student normally lives on a student loan, and in return is given a valueable and great education. Do we understand the full value of this? Do we appreciate it as much as someone who can not even study at university regardless of how clever they may be, because they can not get a loan and need to support their family, would do? No we do not. Instead we use our spare time not to achieve above average, exceed our limits and the expectations imposed on us, but we use our spare time selfishly. We party, exercise, socialise and so forth -which is all types of luxuries really. 

 

I keep on using the example of Zambia, just because it is closest to my heart, and here I will go again. For a Zambian student a pair of Miss Sixty/ Disel/ Lee jeans would cover one year of quality life. I spent that amount of money today on some of the books I need for my courses. But still. In Zambia it would give someone not only food, shelter, education and clothes -but also a future! Because how do we expect the developing world to get anywhere if they get no education? In Zambia if you do not have an education, you have nothing, because most of the adult population has died of HIV/ AIDS and its basically the grandparents taking care of the children. I would like to think that a Zambian student who got an education payed for would appreciate it much more than I ever would, and would be a more dedicated and grateful student. However that sadly has proven not to always be the case. I remember one of the people I met, who I saw a great future, and she did in fact never make it, althoug she was a head girl. Instead she got pregnant, dropped out of uni, and that is where I lost track of her. Which brings me to another point why I doubt it that you actually would give most of your money to charity.

 

You see the problems are so deeply rooted, and you will not see the results as quickly as you wish. This will disappoint you, and you will ask yourself what is the point with giving these money to charity, when it does not make a difference anyway? Patience and hope, tolerance and stubborness, -those are characteristics much more needed than pure generosity. Unless you are willing to work on that part, you will not end up giving that much both in terms of money and help to charity anyway, although you might have had the good intention to do so.

 

 

I got really upset today. For the first time in my entire life I found myself face to face to one of the people I have considered the bad guys since I learned how to memorize bed time stories. I have meet an Estonian guy who calls himself Russian, meaning his ethnic group is Russian, but he has got an Estonian passport. Basically it has been the case since Russia or Soviet rather occupied The Baltic Nations during World War Two.

 

It was during World War Two, as a result of the Soviet Occupation that my relatives, my grandparents, fled fromEstonia.

 

What made me so upset was not that I meet a Russian who lives on Estonian ground, but that he claimed that Estonia had not been occupied by Soviet. Instead he honestly thinks that the Estonians wanted their freedom to be taken away. In case there is any question on the matter, look it up in an international source, and it will become evident that this was not the case. The easiest one, although not the most correct and indepth one would be http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Occupation_of_Baltic_Republics.

 

That he could honestly state that Estonia wanted to be a part of Soviet, that they had not been occupied and that there would have been no reason for my grandparents to flee the country -it made me perplexed and later on angry. It just really upset me really, and I take it that is how a Jew feels when someone claims that the Hollocaust never happened. I cant believe he is allowed to do Politics as a degree, it is such a vaste of time.

I have never been so happy with a choice I have made, as I am right now. Usually I wonder what if, and I feel maybe only 99 % satisfied with how things turn out. For once I got the feeling that I am on the right track, and that I love it. It actually happened when I had Anthony King as a lecturer today in Introduction to Politics.

 

First of all it was the best lecture I have ever attended, although it was not even a proper lecture. Secondly when reading the syllabus of the essay questions I can chose from, I wanted to write them all. After all I chose to do the thing I am best at, and really find funny, and although it might have been a safer choice to do medicine or economics, this will make me happier. Despite all the time I will be spending on politics, it just feels fun! I love it, it is hard to explain how relieved I am.

 

Even the school feels right now finally, because well its hard to explain. But I like living in a flat with 15 other people, and sharing does not bother me at all. It is always social, and you get to know so many people when you live on campus. I like my Spanish teacher too, which is important since I will see her four days of the week, or  rather 7 hours in class. So not even struggeling with another langugae feels like a mistake. And Essex might be a bit rough, but their Department for Politics is the best in the UK! So there is nothing to regret. The social life is still good, and I have more options than I have time.

 

It is just that it feel as if things are falling into place, and it was about time. It makes me more determind to make it, and I really feel as if it is worth it. All the doubt I have been caring around, has flown away. I feel free, even if I hardly have any spare time.

 

It may be different, I may be stuck here, but it may be the best choice I ever made.

 

It is 8 pm and I am dying to go for a run. I can not though because it is pitch dark outside, and there is no lit up tracks around campus. It is quite silly really I mean it is nothing that says that I can not go for a run of course, besides my common sense. It could be dangerous, and at any point it is irresponsible to go for a run in the dark and expose myself to danger.

 

I hate when I find myself faced with limits, although it seems as if I live in a world full of freedom. The freedom to do whatever I feel like, or what someone called waking up to a fresh start everyday, is something I put a great deal of value into. I appreciate the fact that I can do whatever I feel like, whenever I feel like it, and that I am the only one in control of my life. I make my own choices, and there is as difficult to see all the options available for me as to count the stars in the sky. You may try to count them, but you will get lost eventually and not even know where you started counting.

 

The limitations I am facing at the moment, is in other words nothing more than options really. Still they annoy me, and I challange them constantly, even if it means challenging myself and taking on more than I can possibly manage. Since the limitations are not actually visible, and you only realise them when you encounter a problem, I am stubborn and refuse to acknowledge them.

 

Still we are limited by our own physical strength, the time we actually need to put aside for sleep, and the things we simply can not do because it put us in extrem situations. The limits are there, even when there is no one there to stop you. What I am determind to figure out this year is how much of that limits which is only supposed to be seen as guidelines and which limits actually are inevitable and unstretchable.

 

Some of the limits we must challange, because they reduce your freedom and your choices. For example perhaps I should go for a run, unless of accepting the fact that it might be dangerous. By going for a run in the dark I may prove that I do not tolerate others to set my limits, and show that I refuse to be afraid. I guess it is a question of where you draw the line between freedom and foolishness.

Once in a while we get the opportunity to start over, to define ourselves not as the person everyone we know percieve us as being, but as the person we have always wanted to be. To get a fresh start does not happen very often in life, which means that the importance as well as value of the opportunity, put alot of pressure on us, when it actually appears.

 

I have just moved to another country, experiencing a new culture, and without knowing anyone. A more clean start than that you can hardly ever ask for. I can be which ever type of person I want to, I can do whatever I never got around to, and I can fulfill so many dreams. There is no excuse not to succeed. The past will still be there, and although I am saying we have the opportunity to start fresh, that is not entirely true. Evidently the choices you make, and the dreams you have depends on what you have been through and your past. Hence we may call it a fresh start, but what it really is, is more a summary of who you have become lately, and how you have changed.The big turning point is just needed inorder for that to become obvious in the eyes of the beholder.

 

At uni there is so many options and there is no excuse as to not be happy. I have chosen my degree scheme myself, so I can never say that I find it boring or unsatisfying. I have been able to chose my own courses so if I pick things that will be useless in the future, I only have myself to blame. Furthermore we have all the different societies and sports clubs I can join. I can try something new, like fencing, join the choir, do womens rugby, or be slack and join the film soceity. Personally I chose to do volunteering, join the politics society since that is what I am studying, the film society because it means I can watch heaps of movies free, the bingo soceity- I have never played it and you can go for free!, the newspaper and latin american womens society -since I will be learning spanish and it could be good to widen my international perspective.

 

Another choice is if you are here for fun, or if you think about your career. I am afraid I am a big time nerd. I know what I want to do with my life, and what I need in order to be able to get there. That is why I am here in the first place, since Essex has the best department for Politics in the UK. I know I need to know another third language fluently, and that is why I am studying intensive Spanish four times a week. Hence I get the International relations and human rights perspective by joining the society. I know I need to be involved in social issues, because if you care about the people and things which politics affect you see the bigger picture. Hence volunteering and the politics society is also necessary. Writing is a mean of combining both my passion to write, and develop it further in the field I have chosen to study. Sports I am doing anyway, and I am probably joing the gym or the climbing team. It is just hard to fit it all in to the 168 hours of the week.

 

So even when we start fresh it is how we prioritice, what we consider the most important, that defines who we will be. I feel as if I am losing myself in my career....