It’s About Catan To Leave Chicago.

How to be afraid

Be afraid that you'll drop-out from school and you'll never find another one where you can fit in. Be utterly frightened that your book will never be published and that it's rubbish. Be genuinely fearful of the fact that your body can break-down in any minute because you have a disease that you think you're "too young for". Be worried about never finding a proper job. Be scared of never finishing anything. Be completely, undeniably and irreversebly drenched with fear and worries.

It's 00:12 here, in my parents' kitchen, where I write these lines, while listening to some classy music, that I invited to create the illusion of uppercase-life. But all this, around me, is built on I don't know what. I'm supposed to know, I ought to know but somehow I feel struck by worries. I've been the guy who never felt fear, the one who never regretted failure. But the ground has been shrinking under my feet and I wasn't paying attention and now I'm just floating in nothing. I feel miserable and defeated. My body is broken and so is my spirit. I know I shouldn't give in to the circumstances but I feel vulnerable and hurt. I'm immensely frightened.

Oh goodness, why am I saying this nonsense? This attitude in itself is the manifestation of everything I am against. The Bible says I should pray and do it with a thankful heart. It's extremely hard to do. But not impossible. I'm thankful for the love of my life (yes, I know we're young). I can't express how thankful I am for the promise of eternal life. This is something, that most of you can't put your fingers on. Well neither can I. But I feel that it is not a lie or fantasy. I believe because I have this splinter in my soul, shrieking: YOU'RE SAVED. And I am, indeed. My faith is not the one of the weak. It's the one of humans. Because none of us can fight or trick death. We all are subjects to it. We all are limited and vulnerable. We are creations. I find my hope and basically my life in the Creator of all of us. Even in these times. So, cheer up :)

Lost Slayer by ~slyvanie

You'll find another.' God! Banish the thought. Why don't you tell me that 'if the girl had been worth having she'd have waited for you'? No, sir, the girl really worth having won't wait for anybody.

F Scott Fitzgerald - This Side of Paradise

Forget the People

The news having spread quickly and having reached the last poor, unemployed soul, a miserably thin crowd came up to Mr Dis App’s door. As he walked out with his humble luggage, they overwhelmed him.

He had thought he had braced himself against the jeering and scolding and ridiculing. But the judgmental people were shouting wishes of safe passage, the cynics wailed without any comment and his loving mother said her heart was breaking for him.

Nothing too predictable but still, all acceptable from people with no fate and spirit. This would be, Dis App pondered, a gesture unconserved.

He had one backpack, one messenger bag and--what he knew no one would know is a piece of luggage to his new life--a watch.

“Where is Scott?” he asked himself.

But he knew, fate is no mirage, it would not dissipate if he blinked or looked away.

And the used car was indeed parked at the end of the street.

Cottages with unmanaged surroundings. Weeds and poppies all the way to the city limits.

I wanna thrive, not just survive

"Feels like I travel but I never arrive" - sings Jon Foreman. I suppose it gets us all every now and then. We feel like we're doing so much, when at the same time our lives seem to be stuck at an unreasonable point.

Currently I've had the impression, that I'm working very hard, building a great relationship, doing everything possible. I sent out numerous query letters, to literary agents, in hopes of living one of my dreams: becoming a writer. Not neccesarily a full-time one, just any writer, who can change college and go from mechanical engineer to anything-else-with-which-I-can-be-a-writer-and/or-director... But it just doesn't happen! I'm not getting any response.

Do I suck, is that why they ignore me? This is what I've asked myself a thousand times. Insecurity and doubt, however, are just terrible lies. I say lies because they are totally unreasonable and useless. Oh and most of all pointless. This no-reply has nothing to do with my writing or with my letters, it's just the process, you dumbass, and when I say you dumbass I mean ME DUMBASS...

I've heard it so many times, that it's way too much, that: It isn't the finish line, which matters, but the road, that leads there. And: Enjoy life's wonderful journey, cos' that's what matters. But these are nonsense common-places. If I were given a dollar for every time I thought to myself: Oh, could you be any more wrong? - then  I wouldn't have to study at all after all...

I know this has been nothing but confusing so far but believe me, my conclusion is at the corner now :)

We (and personally I, but let's stay with we) do struggle a lot and we make serious efforts. Most likely day by day. And it seems, like our lives are going nowhere. Because we're not getting anywhere... But is this true? We all are full of potential and we all are called for so much more. The big, romantic turn waits after this moment. Whenever we're ready. If we want to thrive, and not just survive, there is a chance. We can always trust our lives into the hands of the Heavenly Father, who is already taking us there. And it's THAT there. The next moment may just be a moment for a miracle. Let's thrive :)

Dear Hank. As I was reading, I had a revelation: without the little voice in your head, you couldn't read, couldn't think, etc. Do you know how to explain that little voice?? Am I hearing my own voice, but in my head? If so, do toddlers have that voice in their head when processing information? How is this little voice generated? I confused myself asking these questions, so I'm not sure that I've fully gotten what I've asked across. But it mostly is: what is this voice and how did it get there?

The little voice is a construction your mind uses to analyze itself and the world. The little voice saying all of its little words is the culmination of billions of years of evolution and hundreds of thousands of years of culture. The little voice is both you and the thing that created you. No one understands the little voice. It’s probably best not to think too much about it.

About the French languange

I started learning French two weeks ago, just as a hobby. I've always thought it's a wonderful language and whenever I heard someone say basically anything in French, my heart melted a little bit out of awe. Despite my former respect towards the language, it's never been a part of my endless list of interests. Until now!

Though I'm a mere beginner, a punk amateur, I feel I've found something of utter brilliance. As words form sentences and as a tiny bit of poetry slowly implants itself into the uninhabited plains of my mind, I'm loving it more and more. Though I've sampled several languages in my short life and have attained acceptable skills regarding one or two, nothing compares to French.

I find it inexpressible what a joy it is to be able to say 'You're perfect' in French and make it truly mean what it's intended to; or to be able to listen to this ethereal melody and have something of it understood. It's like falling in love. It's like discovering a very old book, which surpasses your taste in contemporary literature or basically just anything you've ever read in your whole life.

I'm so glad I started this. And it makes me enthusiastic of many other things. The beginning of something wondrous, like this, is always a perfect reminder of the fact, that there are infinite options, infinite chances in life. And the majority of them is better than I could ever dream. I realised, that there's just so much to do. Tomorrow, when I wake up, I'll know I have amazing and beautiful things to do, besides life's endlessly grave side. I invite you to start learning a language you've always wanted to, or to finally get to read (COMPLETELY) War and Peace, or just simply to begin a journey of any kind, which will make you more as a person and as a part of the ever-expanding interconnection of us: the people. Our days can get boring and miserable every now and then, but it's never, NEVER, unchangeable.

Steam rising from the bed of the Waimakariri River in New Zealand, 1946. (George Silk—The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images) #newzealand