J
Jetfire
Guest
^
What is your native language then?
What is your native language then?
I thought my first three were pretty serious and said a lot about me, but here are three more in that vein:
1. I'm manic depressive, and I'm struggling desperately. Only people who've experienced it can know that slow and tortuous drowning is tolerable when the gasps of air are so pure that they induce clarity, peace, and utter capability in any endeavor. They know that one tolerates the demons for the times when he sees angels.
2. I think I am at a crux in my life and I have to act, and act soon, else I'll lose myself in more ways than one.
3. Sometimes I stay alive for the sake of my mother. Sometimes, it's "[t]he way a crow shook down on me the dust of snow from a hemlock tree [that] has given my heart a change of mood and saved a day that I had rued." Or it's the music. Or the curiosity. These are the drugs I need, like my daily insulin injections, to stay alive.
Third, I feel empty. There's a gap in my energy field inside my chest, an emptiness, a null, that can on occasion (okay, twice in the last six years for five minutes each time) be filled up, but the filling then leaks away. It is always there, just...empty.
It's just that it's been like this for several years now. I'm a constant bother to my parents since I can't seem to manage to earn enough money to support myself, I have terrible self esteem and hence no love life for a long time, and now that I'm finally 25 and can start being taken seriously in the work market (since apparently you grow up when you're turn 25), there's no jobs!
I've part by part given up what I want.
I also recently discovered my lactose intolerance and once you know about it, it's pretty easy to manage. I buy lactose free milk (which tastes the same to me as normal milk) and can usually handle a small bit of cheese without incident, but given my love of cheese in general I just keep some enzyme supplement pills on hand. The worst part about it though is when I occasionally slip up and forget... then it's off to the bathroom!
Gassy. Really, I just take a bunch of lactate pils before I eat a lot of dairy and things are fine. But I don't do much milk and the like these days anymore because of how inconvenient (and expensive) that is. The last gallon of milk I had went bad with 3/4 of the jug still full.
Popcorn and cinema is my ideal program on a sunday
I thought we were to share three things people didn't know already.1) I'm really a Parisian elitist![]()
It's not the first time I thought that myself. I am definitively Italian: in style, flavour and taste; but at the same time there is something very British about my demeanor and attitude. Blimey!You're an Englishman in an Italian's body - emigrate!
Very slowly. Something always comes up so I don't really get to work on my thesis. And having no deadline is always bad for my discipline. I really have to get into it, now.![]()
Well, sometimes I think that it was worth it, sometimes not. I admit that I enjoyed learning new things; I liked to discuss movies, plays and art. In a way it was very sophisticated.
I wrap things up to get to a point and to answer your question. A positive experience for me was definitely that I’ve learned things about myself:
- I like lectures, but I like it even more to consume art or to make art myself rather than to analyze it.
- I’m very lazy and an academic path simply wouldn’t right for me. So I’m glad that lies behind me.
- I’m not sure if studying itself was worth it because I could have accomplished the same knowledge differently and probably more effectively if I had done a job training instead.
Thanks to both! Well, it has been really stressful and overwhelming, yes. I submitted my thesis for revision in December, I received the comments in January and I had three weeks for revising the final draft and prepare my oral defence. I hardly slept for that time, due to the workload and the sheer pressure of that. After I finished my defence, I was so exhausted I slept two hours in my car it before I could drive home. I wonder what people thought seeing a smartly dressed guy sleeping in his car at 5pm.
However, I can only say it was worth it: I wanted it, I worked my ass for years to get there, and now it feels very, very good. So Me-Ike, hold tight and take care!
Thanks to all the others, too!
My thumbs can do a right-angle thing that I assumed everyone's thumbs do, but apparently they don't. I can also bend my thumb backwards till it's touching my wrists, or crook it at a weird angle so that it's bent behind my hand. It's difficult to describe! My arms overextend a lot as well, and I can twist and turns in ways that are a bit disturbing.1. What specific ones? With me only my left hand bends backward more than it should.
I am addicted to nutella.
I thought my first three were pretty serious and said a lot about me, but here are three more in that vein:
1. I'm manic depressive, and I'm struggling desperately. Only people who've experienced it can know that slow and tortuous drowning is tolerable when the gasps of air are so pure that they induce clarity, peace, and utter capability in any endeavor. They know that one tolerates the demons for the times when he sees angels.
2. I think I am at a crux in my life and I have to act, and act soon, else I'll lose myself in more ways than one.
3. Sometimes I stay alive for the sake of my mother. Sometimes, it's "[t]he way a crow shook down on me the dust of snow from a hemlock tree [that] has given my heart a change of mood and saved a day that I had rued." Or it's the music. Or the curiosity. These are the drugs I need, like my daily insulin injections, to stay alive.
It's just that it's been like this for several years now. I'm a constant bother to my parents since I can't seem to manage to earn enough money to support myself, I have terrible self esteem and hence no love life for a long time, and now that I'm finally 25 and can start being taken seriously in the work market (since apparently you grow up when you're turn 25), there's no jobs!
I've part by part given up what I want.
Very slowly. Something always comes up so I don't really get to work on my thesis. And having no deadline is always bad for my discipline. I really have to get into it, now.![]()
You have no deadline? No Day of Doom? No God, Oh God, Why Not Only One Week More Just One Week Day?
Having a deadline doesn't really help discipline either, by the way. Well, it does. But way too late.
Yeah, I like the whole "assholes to tourists" angle. While I loved visiting Paris, I hated with a passion the fact that this made me one of the "tourists". Being one proves least favorable when various vultures spot you and try and sell you shit. So hard to shake them.
Ooh, or how about the cartel of women with unknown origins pretending to be Bosnian refugees and begging for money (while at the same time unable to say a word of Serbo-Croat)..
I thought we were to share three things people didn't know already.1) I'm really a Parisian elitist![]()
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Hey, como sou eu suposto saber se você indivíduos é Flamejante?![]()
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