In the land of the academic and the drunk, I am starting to get a leeeeetle bored.
Two exams down, five left.
Would very much like to be DOING things, rather than reading or writing about them.
I have settled in my new little place, it’s very sweet and cosy, and SO close to the main city centre (which, by Grahamstown standards, is two roads and a handful of shops).
Living by yourself gets lonely though, and so I find myself constantly seeking coffee with friends, and even now I am seated at a little coffee shop, with a Milo milkshake to my right, and a pile of notes to my left. A little kid is wandering around the place, stopping in front of a mirror to see what the ice-cream looks like when it’s on his tongue.
I’m still ruminating about the break in, at night. I lie there and wonder about all the possibilities. I can’t help it.
But things are moving. In a few weeks, one of my coolest guy friends emigrates back to the States. I’m buying his car. I’m moving out of that bladdy digs into my new apartment. I’m completing second year. I’m saying good bye to a few graduates. I’m going back home for two months.
So I remain in motion, although right now I really feel so static. All this paper…Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing, studying all this literature. But I have huge dreams for Drama – just last night I wrote a short play, a monologue I’d like to work on, if my audition into the Contemporary Performance (third year course) next year is successful. Who knows…
Life is so murky sometimes.