Similar but different.

Finally I managed to finish succesfully my career of a sophomore and go to the next level. As for my vacation, it is certainly mentally comfortable to know that you do have this time just for you and no one expects you to do anything at all. Nevertheless, my body and mind need deep regeneration. I omitted soul, for the soul cannot be repaired. Only time and silence can heal the soul, and needless to say, it's all but silence in my life. I dreamt of going back home, to which I have always referred as asylum and haven. I was so glad being on my way home, sitting on the train, catching the views with watery eyes. I believed in restful time, in careless lying in the garden and counting leaves on the trees. Once I came back, it turned out that there's no fine grass in the garden to lie on, and instead of inner peace, I gained itchy bites of ants on my skin and a bunch of overwhelming memories to deal with. I tried to visit those places of the still-living-in-me past and, predictably, it didn't work, as the places, though the same, were different. Awareness of that fact brought strange, unbearable feeling. It's all annoying in here. It's all annoying out there. chronic dissatisfaction. chronic dissatisfaction. big sickness. big sickness. Life's about waiting. We always wait for something. And thank God we do, bacause it seems to be the biggest fun. When the time comes and you get what you've been waiting for, somehow you're not impressed. Excitement is gone and so on and so forth. Come what may, it looks like the way really is a goal itself. Far be it from me to say that it's always like that and everyone needs to adjust, but, for my own sake, I'd rather it stayed that way.