Thursday, August 4

8/4

Today, while feeling formidably lost as usual, I decide to jot down a few things on the page. Actually it wasn't today when I made such a decision; I have been trying to come up with something for at least a few weeks. The environment, I suspect, simply has changed, leaving less and less room for acts like this one that won't put forth anything immediate, or anything at all. But whatever, though I deem writing an agonizing process, and my works mundane and borderline intolerable, from them, strangely I still indulge a fair amount of pleasure.

Recently my most noteworthy event has been the internship at E.ON. I had always thought that words like "career", "job", and "internship" are antidotes to my writerly pursuit. And indeed, in it I have thus far see nothing particularly penetrating nor inspiring. Corporations are just places where a large amount of ordinary people get to maintain their livelihoods, and a few elites, while unwavering in their own elevation, try to be at the same time cautious and respectful towards the things they don't necessarily cherish. However, I must admit, I have found the internship quite fulfilling, to such an extent that I detest calling it an internship. I prefer it be called a job, and I an employee. Only on the seventh floor of Jägerstraße have I seen a tangible glimmer of hope, of finally having an income to call my own, of taking responsibility, and of gaining, once again, the privilege of relaxing after work. I also see real people, with whom I have only acquainted, struggling in their respective forms to come in terms with life. They don't truly love their jobs - no one would genuinely do, but they don a level of professionalism that has gradually blended in with skin, with only a trace of fatigue in their smiles to remind me that they are human, and they are humane.

Recent developments didn't afford me a lighthearted mood. Since I realize, that what I have found fulfilling is only transient. What's not transient, are the conditions that have been engraved in me since I made the decision to set off for Germany. These are the conditions of indebtedness, of poverty, of the feeling of being naturally disadvantaged in many ways, and of having to pretend, imperfectly, that none has happened. The polarizing ideologies of the world, and the misfortune of finding no book that accords my taste, among many other things, further dampened my lowness.

Occasionally though, like a baby girl bursting into tears over a bar of candy, I would burst into humor simply to entertain the people at the lunch table. I mock stupidities and tell jokes that are objectively funny, and make everyone around me laugh. I tease about an Excel mistake and delight in it, wholeheartedly, committedly. It seems that, after all, I could still be an interesting person.

The girl from Bavaria, a third generation tenant to reside in my landlord's apartment, left yesterday. She borrowed the iron from me to prepare for her job interview on Monday, and went away unannounced. For a moment I still had the impression that, behind the locked doors she was still there - perhaps sitting on the bed where I used to sleep, behind the rack of laundry hung to dry. But she's indeed gone. Her door veiled open like an old wound, revealing the inside - no more clothes, computers or mugs, only an array of old furnitures, covered in a layer of dust that was once scattered amongst the air, remained. A profound emptiness suddenly struck me, once more, once more, I'm the only person standing to bear - I'm the immovable for I have nowhere else to move to; I'm the endurant for I have to endure; and I seem strong for if I'm weak, I'll most certainly perish in an unnoticeable way.

Inside my room and inside my office are two divergent worlds. If in them there is anything constant it must be a struggling soul, whose back is bent forward to gaze, to see and to hope, who was once interesting but became less interesting due to life's weight. He's exhausted, bleeding and in constant, mildly excruciating pain, but he's still fighting, he's still alive, his stance is still, as always, tall and upright.