Grease Poured Down Sink

Random I Am - Of Dice and Boards. Hypodermic

"Every morning, it's a new surprise
Do not know who I am before I roll the states ..."

Millencolin Random I Am "

few days (day) ago I wrote a letter to a dear friend. Yes, I agree, was an e-mail, but he had the scent and the length of a letter penned in ink-stained hands and thoughts of the night so much as confused as insomnia and deep introspection. Among other things, I tossed a sentence resulted in nearly his own free will, which summarizes the Lingering feeling that accompanied me during this period. "I'm afraid to go back on the board rather than roll the dice and continue." Trite metaphor, perhaps, but effective in many ways. The caroamicotiscrivo it to me rightly re-launched, I have it in mind and why I do my best to get him, then die. Me just here, not complacency, but because sometimes it really good to remember their own direction.

Allie

Teach Abroad Loan Forgivenes

"Does not matter who you've been

Reaching You're in But you do not know where to begin ..."

The Offspring - "Hypodermic" As I write

of stereotyping and sense-making for some obscure reason I remember this old song of my Beloved Offspring, stroke, perhaps unknown to those who are not pushed Smash and Ixnay back over, but I was impressed. Here I am again to draw conclusions, or almost, of another intense period abroad. All the while I try to go into the maze of social identity theory, at least just enough to provide a theoretical framework for my film analysis. (Re) Starting certainly implies question their own ... but (re) return is often even more complex ... an identity is forged "new" by virtue of all the experiences and people he meets along the way, but then suddenly finds himself having to deal with (the) previous identity, preserved in places and memory collective (at least those who still remember him!). And then it "does not matter who you've been", or does it? Count only what you had before, the place to which you return? And what to do with what you've been in the middle, and mental space in the elsewhere? Frankly, this time I feel even less able to respond. Spend some months abroad in some ways is a magnified projection of the fleeting experience of elsewhere got from a book or a movie: Yes, real life, sometimes complicated by a number of organizational issues that slow down the implementation true, but it also contains the size of the exploration of possibilities, a range of options that maybe in the world "normal" does not even consider or do not exist tout court. Here, for the first time since I started to move I began to seriously consider my home town as a * * among the possibilities, not * my * the default size. I was surprised myself, I always saw the return as a normal end of the path, and sometimes I wanted because I felt the desire to regain possession of something that I felt much better than where I had projected, and with whom I struggled to come to terms. This time however I fear the pigeonholing that might expect, I fear that world-academic work that I've known hostile but now more than ever seems really saturated, impregnable and sick. Not that everything here is rosy, if I had not the increase of the scholarship I probably would have had to pack in a jiffy, since the cost of living in London, and yet, although students and researchers are in an uproar here, somehow I feel there is a minimum of breath more (ok, the comparator makes everything better ...). Moreover, I realized the irony of life just to Barons Court ... nomen omen? Boh, very nearly there I hope, at least I have a bunch of keys to enter!

Allie