This is the story of a girl who cried a river and drowned the whole world
Suchfeldeingabe: charts 1999 U.S.
Ergebnis: Youtube-Frenzy mit Gänsehaut beim Hören diverser C-Dale-Erinnerungen.
Dorm all over. Campus all over. Study nights all over. Endless talks over a cup of Earl Grey. Walks from class to class running into classmates, dormmates, fellow internationals, over and over trying to figure out the appropriate answer to that ever-mystifying "Whasssuuuup!". Swooning at the sight of my Aussie. Standing in line for uninspired lettuce, fries in variations in weekly rotation. Sitting with my eyes on the clock and wishing I didn't have to leave my Aussie to catch my music class. Sitting in my music class dreaming away - nothing was really new there anyway; why had I chosen Music Appreciation 101? - and scribbling about my Aussie. Well, he disappeared quite quickly, compared to others, but then, sitting in those classes, why would I care about those stares by students who wondered about the girl who had obviously misplaced her diary? Sitting in the cafeteria, unthinkingly letting my eyes wander over obese bodies of dormmates, letting thoughts surface like "how can you..." and instantly feeling bad about that and about suddenly feeling quite slim despite not having lost a pound since arriving. Finding myself annoyed beyond belief at some people's lack of manners. (Snort? Snorrrrrtttt? Never heard of tissues?) Wondering about some trends. (Brrr! Why would you think wearing a cap that kinda reminds everyone of a bank robbery makes you sexy?) Perching on T's bed, leaning on the cool wall, feeling slightly less popular than "T - the babe" and clueless as to why it would matter. Trying not to let the aggressive strength of the naval guy's muscles intimidate or bother me. Enjoying the umpteenth movie I could finally watch in English - no one would mind it wasn't in German. Getting a little irritated at T's "sh! ssshhh!" Enjoying myself when I was really myself. What more in the world do you need than yourself, true friends, good books, good music, good movies and topics to talk about? I guess from today's point of view, I'd say: a perspective. Back then I didn't, because being there was enough, later would come later. It only works because it's temporary, though. I also guess it was so great back then because it was the first time I actually liked myself, I enjoyed myself, I was myself, I didn't hold myself back, I became myself. What a bummer coming back. Lots of tears upon leaving (what I thought was) the one. (Well, with hindsight, it's easy to say he was wrong from the beginning. Hindsight is always 20/20.)
Looking at the clock, I wonder: Where did that come from? And: Though I like what I've become, why did it take me so long? And why did I have to go through all the trouble in between? When will I reward myself?
Ergebnis: Youtube-Frenzy mit Gänsehaut beim Hören diverser C-Dale-Erinnerungen.
Dorm all over. Campus all over. Study nights all over. Endless talks over a cup of Earl Grey. Walks from class to class running into classmates, dormmates, fellow internationals, over and over trying to figure out the appropriate answer to that ever-mystifying "Whasssuuuup!". Swooning at the sight of my Aussie. Standing in line for uninspired lettuce, fries in variations in weekly rotation. Sitting with my eyes on the clock and wishing I didn't have to leave my Aussie to catch my music class. Sitting in my music class dreaming away - nothing was really new there anyway; why had I chosen Music Appreciation 101? - and scribbling about my Aussie. Well, he disappeared quite quickly, compared to others, but then, sitting in those classes, why would I care about those stares by students who wondered about the girl who had obviously misplaced her diary? Sitting in the cafeteria, unthinkingly letting my eyes wander over obese bodies of dormmates, letting thoughts surface like "how can you..." and instantly feeling bad about that and about suddenly feeling quite slim despite not having lost a pound since arriving. Finding myself annoyed beyond belief at some people's lack of manners. (Snort? Snorrrrrtttt? Never heard of tissues?) Wondering about some trends. (Brrr! Why would you think wearing a cap that kinda reminds everyone of a bank robbery makes you sexy?) Perching on T's bed, leaning on the cool wall, feeling slightly less popular than "T - the babe" and clueless as to why it would matter. Trying not to let the aggressive strength of the naval guy's muscles intimidate or bother me. Enjoying the umpteenth movie I could finally watch in English - no one would mind it wasn't in German. Getting a little irritated at T's "sh! ssshhh!" Enjoying myself when I was really myself. What more in the world do you need than yourself, true friends, good books, good music, good movies and topics to talk about? I guess from today's point of view, I'd say: a perspective. Back then I didn't, because being there was enough, later would come later. It only works because it's temporary, though. I also guess it was so great back then because it was the first time I actually liked myself, I enjoyed myself, I was myself, I didn't hold myself back, I became myself. What a bummer coming back. Lots of tears upon leaving (what I thought was) the one. (Well, with hindsight, it's easy to say he was wrong from the beginning. Hindsight is always 20/20.)
Looking at the clock, I wonder: Where did that come from? And: Though I like what I've become, why did it take me so long? And why did I have to go through all the trouble in between? When will I reward myself?
Guildenstern - 15. Jun, 22:02
