mistakes i know i am making

WARNING: the following text is the combination of endless whining, ranting, babbling, scribbling, and stream of consciousness thinking without one clear point in mind. this is not a beneficial text. neither is it an entertaining one. in fact, you may want to skip it completely, and move to the next post (in case there is one). however, you are best off by simply shutting down your computer and reading a book instead. any book. twilight and fejős éva books excluded, i mean. (i would not call those books, anyway. so you shouldn't either.)

if you are still reading this post, you should note that by reading it all the way through - in case you manage to hold out that long - you may realize:

a, what a pathetic person i am

b, how much i like to feel sorry for myself and drown in my own sorrow

c, how broke i am

d, how pointless being an english/ american studies major is

d, how it is not worth to go to university and earn a degree at all. and spend all that money on it.

so here comes the endless whining:

i am so bloody fallen apart. i feel two rather heavy, hard rocks the size of my fist in/on my body. one is in my stomach. the other is on my chest. oh, and there's a lump too. now that one is in my throat. all very comfortable. and they are getting more and more comfortable by every hour. i dont think they are planning to go away in the next three or four months. or at least until i more or less manage to sort myself out. or until i find a more or less steady job that pays at least the minimum wage. 

i am not sure that's how my great, marvellous liberty is supposed to feel.

i think that's how unbearable liberty is supposed to feel.

about a week ago i learnt that i cannot stay in the student hostel from september. even though i have been living here for four years, i know everybody around here and everybody knows me around here (meaning that i have connections in this neck of the woods), i should pull some serious strings and lick quite a few bottoms just to attempt to sort out my staying here. i don't think that will happen. and not just because i am not ready to lick asses. i am not broken in enough. even if i did lick them, i dont think i could sort things out. i dont even know whether i want to sort them out. i dont know whether i want to stay here.

anyway, yesterday my two-week vacation breakation ended. and i came back to budapest with the intention of working at the language school for another two or three weeks, then leave my job, and move home on the 1st of september. then start looking for a job, and, hopefully, find something that i dont loath completely, and start working. or, worst case scenario, find anything that hires and pays me.

then yesterday, on my way back to budapest i got a phone call and i learnt that 4/5 of lessons are cancelled for the next two weeks. meaning that, instead of about 20 lessons per week, i will only give about four or five lessons in the next fortnight. great, isn't it? now that really pissed me off. that's hell of a lot of money i had planned to earn and had counted on, yet, i won't be able do so. had i known things would turn out this way, i would have moved home 1st august. i could have saved myself from some serious expenses. it is just not worth it for me to hang around in budapest in august. financially, i mean. and it's all because of some idiot and lazy teenager who decided to ditch her language exam and postpone her lessons with me. it is just really pissing me off. she wants to have her remaining lesson in november. well, guess what? i won't be hanging around here those days. (unfortunately.)

and i still do not know what to do.

now i most certainly cannot afford to stay here, not with all that money lost. (now, at this point you may ask: how can it be lost when it wasn't even earned? well, it was counted on.)

and i am freaking out, i am scared to death that i will not be able to find any job at home. (now, that's what i call some serious quarter life panic.) 

i mean, common, it's borsod, that's where the unemployment rate is the highest in the country.

and it's also where the level of culture the lowest, probably. 

i do not want to move back home, my heart is keep whispering me to stay here, stick around budapest. i am happy here. i love the place. there are opportunities here. i could probably find a job here much easier than in miskolc.

but then my mind answers my heart. as a matter of fact, he can't stop telling her off (yep, in my thinking my mind is male, whereas my heart is a female. typical stereotypes of the sexes, huh?): yeah, stupid, but you just cannot afford sticking around. you are broke as hell. you were never the kind of grasshopper who thought about winter at all. you are the kind of grasshopper who is a true free spirit, who always seizes the day, lives for the moment, and never cares for tomorrow. hence, you burn yourself every once in a while. and suffer all right, and get pulled deep down under water by those heavy rocks in your stomach and on your chest. and that enormous lump miriculously transfers into tears all of a sudden, and they come, bubbling out of the corner of your eyes when you least expect them. now that's the kind of grasshopper you are. the kind for whom life is not a journey up on a hill, but a rollercoaster with constant rotation of heaven and hell. naaa, you are not the cold-headed kind, who always plans ahead, and who executes those plans perfectly. you are the what-the-hell kind.

and now here i am burning, and being pulled under water by those big rocks. falling deeper and deeper. i wonder when i will hit bottom rock.

and i still don't know what to do.

well, actually, i do.

since i don't have a choice, i just move home in a couple of weeks, and start looking for some shitty job.

by the way, who was that idiot that said that your twenties are the best years of your life? he must have been high during that decade.

i should have stayed a child forever.

or i should have found a better way to ignore reality completely.

i guess i will be watching the graduate and post-grad quite a few times in the next couple of months.

now these are those trully marvellous anxiety-ridden days of quarter life panic i will hopefully look back on in a few years and note to myself that i have managed to get through them too. this shall too pass, right?

these are also the days i should take good notes of cause i might turn them into a book one day.

i wonder whether anybody would read it.

(ps: i wonder why i always feel better after writing. i guess i should stick with the darn thing. the rocks got a teeny bit smaller.)