LIFE BY SCENT

Today is beautiful! I am bathing in all this beauty. The air smells so great. I came down from my second floor (by local standards, from the first), walked out of the entrance onto the street, took a breath, and felt: LIFE! And I felt so profoundly that I am living right now, in this very, THIS VERY MOMENT! Life exists, it is going on, I can touch it. And I have the courage to do so. In the morning, I went to the IEC for the Internet, sent out letters — signals — waves to various people close to me. I walked out onto the street: the day smelled just the same. Without rushing and breathing it in with full lungs, without haste, I drove back home. I did my chores and went to sunbathe. I called Stas, suggested he keep me company, but he was working. No matter: it was good alone too, because what a day! At five o'clock, I arrived at the beach. I took some snacks and water with me. I stood under a cold wave that drenched me from head to toe, and back to the shore — to paint my body with the sun's rays. I lay down, sunbathed, stayed for an hour or an hour and a half, and slowly moved "towards home." On the way, I wandered through the shops.

Then I called Olya, a friend in Cambridge, where she and her husband and daughter are temporarily living. I was very glad to hear a familiar voice. Unfortunately, though, she has a bit of a cold. She says it's really cold in England right now. But not here! No slush, no snow. No dirt, no freezing. Summer. Dry. And the sce-e-ent!!! Evening. Seven forty. I'm sitting in my room. I opened the window and the door. Somewhere, someone is obviously cooking something delicious. Which complements, mixes with the SCENT OF TODAY. Shall I go and cook something for myself too?!

TIME TO SAY

It's high time! I even had dreams — a couple about my mom over the last four or five months. And about my dad twice. My psychologist, whom I also periodically visited for individual consultations, just like the psychotherapist (they led the psychotherapy group together: a psychotherapist and a psychologist. Two specialists of the same profile, with, in many respects, different higher education), when we talked about my relationship with my grandmother, told me interesting things. Simple, but for various reasons, they hadn't reached me earlier. Are there few things in the world that we don't understand? More than enough! And yet, parents and grandparents are people to whom we often forget or don't think to say that we love them. But it is more than worth saying. Because one day it might be too late. So, mom, dad, grandma: I love you. Be who you are. I am satisfied with everything about you. I understand: parents and, especially, grandma need someone to be around. And I will be. I'm not going anywhere. At least, emotionally. I think about you all the time! Because you, each of the three of you, are the only ones for me. There are no others, there won't be, and there's no need. December 08, 2008

THE THIRTEENTH PSYCHO

From the third or fourth year until the end of university, my surname was under number thirteen in the group on the journal list. And I invented a nickname for myself: "13-i psih".

THE BEST TIME

I had three such days in a row, as I described in the last post. It seems that if you've had at least one such day in your whole life, then you've lived! And I had three! And now I know what it's like. And I will strive for it again. I held up well and overcame the shift on Wednesday. Even though it was hard. I was losing my mind, I was working like crazy again and dancing until I dropped. My head is spinning in Africa!

On Tuesday, Kristina and I were fooling around on the beach. We were doing headstands, bridges, cartwheels, tumbling in the open park at Sea Point.

On Wednesday, I finally went shopping! Because it was impossible to put it off any longer: my flip-flops and shoes were worn out, the soles of both were worn through to holes. I would have bought new ones earlier, but my money had been stolen. I bought good jeans, a leather belt to go with them, and a beautiful shirt. My trousers, in which I arrived, had long since become suitable only for work; wearing them somewhere in the city, to the cinema, or for walks had simply become embarrassing. And the shirt and T-shirt had faded in the sun and aged from washing.

I shopped at a good, solid store. And the markets — to hell with them, the markets! Chinese clothing stands out for its shoddiness. At least, I see immediately: is it good or not.

WORK OVERWHELMED ME

On Thursday, the shift was harder, and it was the second day in a row. I started to give in. I felt that my strength was leaving, but bile was accumulating. That must be why I was angry and irritated for most of the day yesterday. Work took away the creativity in me for those two days that I worked, and for yesterday.

Also yesterday, we were supposed to have a party from the IEC, but none of the girls went. Lizka and Katya were working, Irinka completely ignored it, and Kristina said she would be late. I was upset that it turned out this way. Besides, we weren't really explained where we were meeting. I came to the IEC hostel, waited on the street, but apparently, they were inside. Also, Kristina confused me and said that we were all meeting at the pool. And I went there. There was no one there. Apparently, they stayed for breakfast. And I wanted to too! I was angry at the IEC people for not explaining properly, at the girls for abandoning me, at Kristina for confusing the meeting place, and at myself for being such a fool, still not knowing the language, not trying to learn it better, otherwise, I surely would have understood everything better and wouldn't have looked for someone to blame.

Having lost my temper, I spoke coldly to the innocent Kristina, and, without waiting for the anger to boil inside me so much that I would break something or hit someone, I went home. Everything was bubbling and boiling inside me. I was tired from this work, got up to the alarm clock for the sake of the ill-fated party, hadn't slept at all again, and returned home hungry and angry. I vented my anger, ate, and passed out for an hour. Then I went to the IEC for the Internet and thought, "now I'll tell them everything!" But those who needed to be told weren't there, I sat silently for an hour and a half on the Net. I wasn't in a hurry, I was waiting: maybe they'll come?! They didn't.

I packed up and went home. Here I read a guidebook on South Africa. I decided to return to it after all and finish reading it properly. Interesting and informative! And at seven o'clock, while reading, I passed out. I woke up only today, at nine. 23:37, December 13, 2008