shit, how i hate germans.
i’m sure that if i weren’t so pretrified of being alone right now i’d be:
2) content with my own company.
shit, when am i gonna get some self-esteem?
this quote from mad men about nostalgia has stuck with me since i first read it. i often think about it, since i often feel nostalgic, but then i’m also surprised about the moments and settings that stir that feeling in me these days. meaning that lately i’ve been looking back on some times of real solitude i had before, but that looking back is not in relief or self-pity, but indeed nostalgia. my mind wonders off to the streets i walked every day going and coming from work, what i saw and who i knew. how when i took a certain route (turning right on the first street going up and passing by the hotel and then by the bakery) i would often see that old man that lived in my building, and who really helped me out by taking me to the bus terminal in his taxi that firs time in august i was going home to visit, or i would see the cool dog perhaps, the one that often wondered that street. i think too about my little room and the utter loneliness of it and in it, all the single items reminding me i was one and alone (the one plate and mug, pan and pot, and single bed); yet what was then loneliness today seems as self-reliance and that is something to be missed. so i’ve come to the conclusion that nostalgia is not a pain from an old wound, but of today’s; and it is today’s pain that makes me look back to a place and time and it makes it feel painless, either as an act of self-delusion or teaching, or both.