Before I start with the actual post:
I do want to mention that I HATE the new – supposedly better – look of wordpress. It might not be new to you but I post rather seldomly and thus hope that the changes will get overhauled pretty fast. No such luck this time.
I can’t tell you exactly what I hate about it. I just do. It’s too messy to work with and I can’t find some of the features I could use before. I have search for everything and literally am going crazy because of it. For instance: Where is the spell checker? If there are any mistakes: Not my fault. I don’t enjoy posting anymore.
So thank you wordpress, for literally killing my desire to use you to express myself. I will look for a new platform asap!
(Any suggestions? There should be a comment section below…probably. if that hasn’t changed too…)
Ok. Here we go:
Last time I may or may not have talked a little too much about certain people who shall never be mentioned again. Ever.
(For those interested: He answered with how “well-written” my post was and by asking me what I want to hear. NOT PRODUCTIVE OR NICE, DUDE!)
Anyway. At some point I changed schools as scheduled and thus moved to the central flat permanently. At first I had a great roomie. Another girl. She was from the UK.
She had a special personality and I was never quite sure whether we got along or not. But I’d like to think that we did indeed get along. A. still came over almost every weekend and at some point a new guy from Germany moved in and Miss UK moved out. Went on to travel India.
Another guy moved in. And another one. And one more. Suddenly it was me against testosterone. I can’t say that I enjoyed it.
Thankfully there were girls too. Far in between and only short term, but they were there.
I saw some people from the beginning again too. Of course we had to catch up.
Especially S. and I. She is still in China as her projects duration is a year.
The boys got along swimmingly and the other two girls who would only be staying for one or two nights were very nice too.
And then there were the unmentionable french people.
They were certainly…interesting. Made a lot of problems too. I’ll just lleave it at that and only mention that they got kicked out of the flat by the organisation.
At that point I was already in China for at least two months. And I enjoyed my stay immensely.
The sightseeing part from the beginning lessened with time. During my last month I took over the duty of introducing the newbies to every plave to be if possible. At least I tried. I even wrote a list with things one should know for the girl that would be coming long after I was gone. Over 40 points as far as I remember. Including my contact. But I haven’t heard from her so she might not have received it. Which is a pitty.
But it can be a problem if your working hours differ from the others’.
They went to lunch, dinner and sightseeing without even asking me if I wanted to join in or if they could get me anything. No. Their holier-than-thou attitude grated on my nerves greatly.
But it also had its advantages. I made new friends. Some chinese friends and hung out more with the people from the language school.
Cooking together, group dinners and going out to the clubs together. We had fun. And lots of it.
I miss my girls very much. I think they might be my best friends in China/Asia.
We text everyday if possible and as far as the time difference allows it. Which is mostly in the early hours of the day or very, very late at night.
We talk about everything that we think is important and support each other as best as we can.
In fact I didn’t see much of my roommates the last few weeks because I was always out and about with my girls and actually avoided these people like the pest. I tried to be nice and it wasn’t appreciated. Fine by me. They can die for all I care. Why invest in people who couldn’t care less.
Actually that brings me to a realization I had a few days ago:
Maybe I have a mental illness that prevents me from having deep emotions or something like that?
I’ve never felt overly excited or anguish before. Not when I got rejected or when someone told me they love me.
Sometimes I feel almost empty.
Like the personification of temperance. Or something like that.
China was different. I felt alive. So much more than usually. Like I had tapped into the city’s life energy. Almost as if the city itself gave me drive. A will to exist and to get whatever I want. Like I had risen from the dead. Like taking my first breath after an eternity.
I felt good and healthy. (Aside from getting sick twice and the strain the smog put onto my lungs.) This feeling of vibrance is slowly fading away. And I try to garb it, to keep it, but it’s slipping away.
I feel like Shanghai might have been the city I feel alive in. Or it’s the people there. One way or another: I will do everything in my power so that I can return there and live comfortably. I don’t need much to be content. But need a special something to be truly happy. And that special something seems to be there.
If you have similar notions: I’d advise a trip to China.
talk to the people. They are so nice! (Most of them anyway…)
I think there isn’t muc to say. At least I don’t remember.
But I made a photo album and have a travel diary to remind me if I ever feel lonely or just want to get a power boost. I think I’ll need it in the future.
If you have any questions I might be able to help with, feel free to use the comment section below.