Don't lick the knife

When I finished high school, in our last month of classes, my English teacher decided to compile a list of life lessons we have all accumulated throughout the years and which we would like to share as advice with our classmates in order to make sure we are properly set off into the world with at least some principles to guide us through. This was all kind of ironic considering that I went to one of those schools which required an entrance exam and where we had to do monthly reflections on our life and our learning process and how it relates to the grand scheme of things, but I digress. To be honest I don't remember much of that list (I don't even remember what I myself wrote), but there was one advice that stuck, mostly because it was unexpected and overall it seemed pointless.

Don't lick the knife.

Really?? Most people were talking about happiness and taking life with a smile and this one person thought that this was the most relevant thing to keep in mind while we embark on the rest of our lives?? My theory is that whoever wrote it was one of those funny guys who sit in the back, set the toilets on fire and in general don't take themselves too seriously. So maybe it was initially set as a joke, but ironically this is what stuck with me all these years. Why? I shall now share a secret. I.... always.... lick the knife! And whenever I find myself in that position, there is this voice at the back of my head telling me "Don't lick the knife!"

So I think there may be something to take from all of this.

1) People always do what they're not supposed to. I mean it's not for nothing that the longest novel in the history of mankind (aka the Bible) starts with someone breaking the rules.

2) Doing what you shouldn't does not have to have disastrous consequences on your life. You just have to use the right technique.

I guess this might resonate more with me right now because I feel like I've been doing a lot of things I shouldn't have lately. And maybe I didn't always have the right technique and the knife did cut a couple of times. But hey, sometimes you have to push your boundaries in order to know where the limit lies. And no amount of lists and advice can teach you that.

Goodbye business days

Here we are. This is officially my last week as a business student. I've thought a lot about what the past 4 years have brought me and how I've changed through the process and in some aspects I guess I'm doing better while in others it's worse. Somewhere in between my classes and my internships I've become more superficial, more focused on appearances. I've lost some of my curiosity, my idealism. But at the same time, I've grown braver, more adventurous. I've become less afraid of meeting new people. I've partied hard. I've overindulged in alcohol. I've had priceless moments. I've met great people. I've become a cynic that sometimes still pretends to be a kid. I've learned that people can be ruthless sometimes. I discovered that creativity strikes as last minute desperation sinks in. I've learned to hold on to those people who are always there for me and who are close to my heart, but to let go of those who bring about storms and disquiet.

Most importantly, I found out that most times, it's all about the people who surround you. Whether they are in America, in Paris, in Germany, in Denmark, in Romania, in Spain or in Africa, that is what makes your life worthwhile.

Roadmap

So I'm back in rant mode... it's been a while and I really didn't miss it, but this is surely less expensive than seeing a shrink. So here goes nothing.

Technology is supposed to make your life easier and I won't deny its obvious benefits, but between Facebook and text messages I feel like I'm becoming neurotic. Not to mention that I often have the impression that my life is slipping through my fingers in an endless feed of cat stories (ok maybe not cats.... some science stories, some crappy relationship stories, some "inspiring" pictures, some TED talks, etc, etc, etc). As for my phone, I wish I could bury it somewhere and only get it back at the end of the summer. I'm tired of constantly checking it and it's becoming an obsession. Alright fine, I'm tired of waiting for a particular text message which is not coming. There I said it. And maybe it's better off this way and I'll manage to actually keep some pride and dignity now.

On another note, if this is what retirement feels like, then I don't get what people are getting so excited about. I think that the main problem is that I failed to set goals for myself. Life without goals is a boring endless stream of routines and people and places that don't mean anything. I've been on vacation for over a month now and I don't feel like I have accomplished much. I often wonder how I managed to spend an entire summer not doing anything when I was a kid. Oh university what have you done to me?? I cannot seem to just chill anymore.

Step 1: get back to the old drawing board
Step 2: remove all needless frustrations and sources of anxiety
Step 3: spend time with me, myself and I
Step 4: accept the past and all its blunders, accept the way it changed me and made me who I am today
Step 5: take who I am today and make active efforts to become the person I want to be tomorrow (or next year... you get my point)

One thing you can never leave behind

Home is a very vague concept. What is home? Home is where the heart is. Home is not a city nor a country nor a place nor even a person. Home is a feeling. You can feel home at the touch of a cashmere shirt. A smell can make you feel like home. The sight of a brick wall that you encounter for the first time can bring you home. Home is in our heads, in our hearts, in our aspirations, in our dreams, in our desires. Whatever we do, we always tend to converge towards places that we call home. We are always looking for a home. What we don't realize is that home is always with us. So Michael Buble can stop complaining that he wants to go home and just close his eyes and go take a walk.

And now someone can create a drinking game with the number of times I said home in the last paragraph haha!

Summer dreams

So here it is. Summer vacation. Or so I thought. It was amazing for about one evening. Then it all came down. Reality. Decisions. This should be the best time of my life. But it doesn't feel like that. I just feel the contrast between the carefree summer inviting me to waste the day outside and the dark confines of my room telling me I have some thinking to do. There was this quote saying that all college seniors should be given one week during the year to just break down and cry because you're scared and afraid and you don't know what to do. Well I think the week is now. Sometime between the last exam and convocation and grad ball. To be honest I know what I need to do (or at least I have the illusion of control that makes me believe that by following a few easy steps I'll be able to make a good decision). But just starting is quite frankly terrifying. Why? Beats me! This is only the rest of my life that we're talking about.... Someone once told me that I need to grow a backbone so that I can stick to my choices and decisions. They were probably right. However, before I can get there, I have to convince myself that this is the best path for me without the shadow of a doubt. Listen to me.... as though certainty really was an integral part of reality! The only truly certain things in this life are death and taxes and all else is stamp collecting (accounting majors might tell you that even the last one can be debatable). That is why it's so terrifying I guess. You need to close your eyes and take a leap of faith. Damn. I always did have trouble with faith.

Romante si nostalgie

It was a chance encounter. I like to tell myself that I stumbled upon him, but the fact of the matter is that he was there waiting for me. Waiting for my eager fingers and eyes. Waiting for my shallow cover to crack. Waiting for my curiosity to peek under his own cover. I fell in love years ago with a simple string of words. With the nostalgia. With the biting replies. With the sarcasm. And then I forgot. I came back to him on lonely Friday nights. Like the ungrateful lovers he often talks about. Only there to satisfy a moment's itch. Only remembering because of a chance encounter of the eyes. He probably deserves more. More than a dusty shelf in a forgotten library. I probably deserve more than this person I'm becoming. I should probably dig deeper than the same two pages that I almost know by heart by now. The books you read are a reflection of who you are. But who am I if I barely ever read anymore? Maybe it's time I give Minulescu a thorough read. He deserves it. And so do I.

Is this it?

Life is a continual flux. Change. Transformation. A recipe that constantly recreates itself with new components. New atoms, new molecules, new chemicals, new cells, new hair, new clothes, new songs, new places, new people. The only constant is the pattern. And to be part of the mechanism means to accept the rules of the game of transformations. To accept that some things have to be left behind. Why is it that such an integral part of nature is so difficult for us puny humans? Sure, we don't care if we lose an atom or two along the way. We never knew them on a personal level anyway. But when it comes to people and places, the story is entirely different. Saying goodbye never feels quite right. Some don't say it at all. Sometimes, it is simply implied in the structure of the relationship. People grow apart. Letters become brief. Words grow cold. It is the simple natural progression of two lives moving in opposite directions. And as we gain years, we accumulate more and more of these letters written in a hurry before getting back to our everyday life. Letters that feel like a pause in time. And we feel guilty. For not taking the time. For not writing more often. For not putting in more effort to keep this alive. It becomes a chain that we carry around our heart. As we gain years, the chain becomes longer as we leave more and more people behind. Is this what life is about? A growing progression of relationships plugged in to machinery that keeps them artificially alive? Guilt and regrets that weigh heavier by the years? Or maybe I'm holding on when I should just let go?