something that troubles me
It surely is weird not being a part of it anymore, i mean school life. Only a few weeks more and then it will start, their new year. And it will go on as if we had never been there. Life will be normal, though a little differently normal than when we saw it. And when we will visit we will be disappointed because the immage, that we have of the school in our mind, will not be sattisfied. I have visited my other old school often enough to see it estrange from me more and more over the years. I wonder whether it is even worth the trouble of coming back. (book input: Edith Wharton - The Age of Innocence - Newland decided for keeping the beautiful immage rather than meet the possibly disapointing reality - good book, read it the first time about 2 years ago but hated it until I read it a second time)
I miss my ZIS friends and family so horribly much. (my whole room is plastered with pictures). But I ve felt this already in school, that I d like to be in 12th grade again. I knew it from March on (thats when normal classes ended for us). I even miss Lynn (my 11 yr old host sister) screaming in disgust when Uta (my host mom) cooked peas. Or Lea (the little one) got a fit when it didnt go as she wanted. Its funny that it is such moments that are dear to oneself isn't it? I mean one hardly remembers the normal times, they are not enough worth considering I suppose but much more like acutal life. I mean, who, after a year or 2, remembers the noise and dirt of the student launch, or the sound of the voices of the teachers and "half friends" (i hope I will remember that of my real friends a little longer)? Those things that got me through each day?
And after time even the good memories will fade and only the bad will rest, for they are somewhat burned into our memories, either by hurt feelings, hurt pride or embarrassment. Its what has happened to me before and what will happen again. Its kind of tragic. For the present I d like not to forget.
I miss my ZIS friends and family so horribly much. (my whole room is plastered with pictures). But I ve felt this already in school, that I d like to be in 12th grade again. I knew it from March on (thats when normal classes ended for us). I even miss Lynn (my 11 yr old host sister) screaming in disgust when Uta (my host mom) cooked peas. Or Lea (the little one) got a fit when it didnt go as she wanted. Its funny that it is such moments that are dear to oneself isn't it? I mean one hardly remembers the normal times, they are not enough worth considering I suppose but much more like acutal life. I mean, who, after a year or 2, remembers the noise and dirt of the student launch, or the sound of the voices of the teachers and "half friends" (i hope I will remember that of my real friends a little longer)? Those things that got me through each day?
And after time even the good memories will fade and only the bad will rest, for they are somewhat burned into our memories, either by hurt feelings, hurt pride or embarrassment. Its what has happened to me before and what will happen again. Its kind of tragic. For the present I d like not to forget.