Day 118 - 08/04/2010

Several subjects, for maybe one last post...

Very weird dream last night… I was getting married with Andreia (my first girlfriend). But at the end I did the same as when we broke up. I gave some stupid explanations and runaway to the roof of my house on the beach. (Pretty cool part, actually. Because I was running and jumping from roof to roof like a cat). The sad part was hear my mother crying and saying that she will never see a grandchild from me because she is getting old. Why the fuck does this sound like a pressure for me?

I am staying at Steffie’s place till Saturday. After some nice (but weird and probably too selfish) days in London I will be here in Grenoble for 3 days. I hate this city now. I hate French people. I hate French language and I hate French food. Well now I pretty much hate everything, directly related or not to France (hmm… Anger again… should it really be a cycle?).

Leandro wants to talk to me before my departure. I am not so anger with him (disappointed because of the lack of support, for sure) any more. I am feeling more ashamed. Not only because I felt in love for Emilia and behave like a crazy teenager, but also because I was kicked out from EMBL. This is very paradoxal because I would hate to stay for another year working for that asshole, but I do not like the way it looks like for everyone else. I feel inferior (but I am not… how to rip off this stupid feeling?).

I received two requests from Emilia to hide this blog from her. I did not know that she really reads… maybe I suspected and kind of wished, but not consciously. Anyway, such request provoke a disturbing “déjà vu” feeling. I do not know if I should answer something… I am afraid of starting a conversation right now… 3 days before my departure. It is still not time to casual contact...

So, I think I will not answer (but I am not ignoring YOU). But because of that “déjà vu” I will stop writing about her. I am doing the SAME AGAIN, even in my fucking grief. I was shocked when I realized that. I am stopping to write about Emilia right now. Every thought is going to be forgotten, does not need to be “shared” or kept in a digital version forever… I know the plausible end (maybe I can write about this) of this and I will not like if it repeats.

I like YOU. I will not write unpleasant stuff (for YOU) here any more…