~ Seeing. Not Looking ~

Poor little blog. I nearly forgot about you.
Not that anyone seemed to care, though.
But I owe you this, my little blog. And to myself as well.
So, back to business hm?

London:
So I finally spend another few days there.
More happy than I was in a long time.
London is wet and cold and stormy and busy and crowded and everything people tend to think I hate.
And they're right. But London, ah~, this is another story.
I usually suffer from headache and nausea when the weather changes here at home.
Everytime, even if its just a storm coming and going in between a few hours.
Londons weather is changing like... every two hours sometimes.
And my head never cared. I still don't know why. I was fine.
Not even a tickle of a headache.
Talking of health....
I have nearly no immune system. I get hit by every flu or cold or whatever wave.
Yet when I was soaked to the bone, quite literally I have to say, during the so called Killerstorm in the UK.... I was fine.
I was freezing and soaking wet and outside for hours.
And I was fine. I didn't got ill.
I've ate an acceptable amount of calories per day and slept wonderful. In a noisy and crowded hostel, mind you.
Yet after a few weeks home again I feel like shit. Language, sorry. My sleeping pattern is messed up beyond any good and my head's killing me again because the bloody weather changes from 12° to freezing cold and thunderstorms (in January!) every day. My appetite isn't really present anymore. At least not for 2000 calories a day.
London, what's your magic huh?


But enough of that.

I'm incompatible.
Ever so often.
With lifestyles, opinions, hobbies and persons overall.
Sometimes it seems that I'm incompatible to the whole world.
Even those I once called compatible with my... uhm, well... my way of living.
They aren't, they never were and never will be.

So I will sort them out, again. One by one.
It's selfish, I know.
I rather eliminate friendships than try to change my behaviour.
But I'm too much in love with the few people that are "fitting" into my life.
And if I change for those I call incompatible.... I would lose these already fitting friends.

I'm incompatible.
To going and staying out with people up to 23:00 - 24:00.
To feeling in good hands when being surrounded by dicks.
To sharing your average humour.
And to many more ...

And if you behave somewhat wrong, in my eyes I mean, I need to eliminate you from my life wether or not I called you a close and beloved friend before.
Period.
Wrong friends, wrong gender, wrong humour, wrong hobbies, wrong way of thinking, wrong intelligence....

Emotions.
Sentiment.
Sometimes I have a hard time understanding this part of human behaviour.

I have feelings, of course. I can feel sadness, hate, joy, happiness and more.
But I rarely understand them. It's like speaking an unknown language.

I observe how others react in certain situation and draw my conclusions, but sometimes the range of reactions is so diversified that I have no clue how I am supposed to act.

Obvious things are a bit more easy.
When you cry.... you want to be comforted.
When you rage about someone... you want to hear I hate that person as well.

But the "not so obvious" emotions?
This is a closed book to me.

Unfortunetaly.... even when I TRY to understand something because I care.... all I hear is: WHY? Can't you see!? Do you really need to ask??
Well... of course I need to.
If I didn't I wouldn't have asked in the first place.

Yeah~
The probably first question of all.
Why English?
I can't say why. I feel safe, more comfortable, confident and overall just... good... when talking or writing in English.
I never had to "learn" it like I had to learn math.
I mean.. sure I needed to practrice the vocabulary, but I never had to sit at home and really learn.
I just accepted facts like "this is a car" and never tried to explain "car means this and that in german or latin or whatever language".
A car is a car, period.

I'm far from perfect. That's a fact too.

It's easier to express feelings too. And again I can't say why.

There's not only death and hate in this world.
And I know that, of course I do.
Moments where people you rarely know suddenly are so damn cute you wonder why the hell you never talked much with them.
Precious moments. I keep them safe in my heart.

A good friend bitching around and making a stupid scene.... I am used to it.
I roll my eyes and turn around, period.
Yes, it's always that simple. For me anyway.

But those little facts don't have the power to destroy a wonderful day.
I felt loved, safe and well.

What's with people and their apparently permanent need to shout?
Or am I too sensible when it comes to sound?
Are they talking in normal volumes and I'm just too picky?
I maybe never know.

Why shouting from one room to another when it takes you 3 seconds to go there and talk without shouting?

Why yelling to someone, who's taking a shower at that moment, that the mail has arrived when the person in the shower will see it anyway when exiting the bathroom?

Shouting is ugly. Really ugly.
Shouting turns people into uneducated and somehow asocial beings.