diumenge, 28 de febrer de 2010

Winter song

February is about to end.

Like every year ever since I study "serious things" (my last two years of high school and at university, I mean), January is an eternal month. It's unbelievable how slowly can 31 days flow. Seriously, for some strange reason (also called "exams") it seems that New Year was an eternity ago.

And all of the sudden it's the end of February. This month, on the contrary, is like a Formula 1 car: you're expecting it for a whole round, and when it finally comes, it goes so fast that you almost had no time to see it (we call this "setmana intersemestral" in my dearest UAB, it's a whole week after exam period in which we don't have lessons, and when we come back it's the second semester already).

March is almost here and I've decided to start a new countdown. It's supposed to finish on June 24th because in theory by then my semester will be over, my undergraduate studies will be over, summer will come...

And I still don't know what I want.

I'm thinking of Germany again, of France (especifically Paris), of Austria, even Switzerland, and as an even crazier option, Canada. I don't know, but March is almost here, so in theory I should know. In theory, though, I'll stay one more year. I don't know where I'll find the strenght to bear it.

I'm afraid that I've lost something, and I'm afraid that I know what it is too well... Only that I can't say: it's like a curse and I can't find the counterspell.

Maybe it's high time that I stop living with one foot in the past and the other one in the future. But that's how I've always lived.

Am I acting immature?
Do grown-ups have so much trouble making their minds up?

Home is where your heart is.
Where are you now, little infatuated heart of mine?

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