Killing Free Time

Dear Constant Readers,

Break is still a couple weeks from being over, which is nice, but I am quite ready to get back into the swing of it. That would also be quite nice, I think.

These past few days, I've been kind of melancholy. I'm bored, I'm lethargic, and to boot, the weather has been absolutely terrible. Where I'm from, rain is a blessing, and no doubt it is, but this sucks, to be honest. I'm not a fan of drought, or farmers struggling to make the crops grow, or dusty weather, or whatever we have that usually visits my home state; but here we go days with no shot of sun.

Libbi, if you get this, I can very much understand why adjusting here might have been difficult when you arrived. Honestly, I felt like I fell right in, as well as one can, I suppose, a few details aside. But the weather was beautiful. Sunny and T-Shirt-ish right until the end of October or so. But this grey crap can make everything a drag. I finally said to hell with it and went jogging. I needed to get out of the house. I needed to get my blood flowing a little bit, even if it is about as cheery as dinner with the Donner Party. I was told that it rained a lot during the winter (even though it's technically spring) but I didn't know it was like this. But oh well, that's just the way March usually is, right?

I have killed some of the dull by watching movies. The other night I watched a movie with Katrin, called "Harold and Maude." I had seen about 20 or 30 minutes of this when I was first in college (ironically, also with a girl named Katherine, come to think of it...disregard the subtle spelling differences, it's close enough). I thought it was damned funny. Terrible things happen, but they are funny because they are played with a straight face. That is only part of the movie, but an important part. Back many years ago when I was still in 6th grade, I first got an interest in black humor. Later on, I learned, to my disappointment, that black humor is just as diverse as any other kind of humor, and just because it's a satire, or a dark comedy, doesn't mean I'm going to like it. This was one of those movies I did enjoy though (along with other dark comedies, like "American Beauty," "Dr. Strangelove," and "Fargo," to name a few).

But I was glad just to spend some time with her as well. Our friendship hasn't exactly been a walk in the park, but do I really hope we can find a way to work out a mutual peace.

That does bring something else to mind, though. Not all friendships in life work out, sometimes even the special ones that happen like four times in eighty-odd years. Speaking from experience, if it is possible at all to reconcile, do that...but if you can't, maybe it's time to cut the losses and move on. I've had to face some of that since starting college. If one good thing can be said about them, though, it's that one picks up some valuable experience and wisdom from them. Probably more from the troubled ones, as they say.

In honor of my recent trek to Scandinavia, I thought I'd celebrated it with a Scandinavian movie: "Insomnia", the Norwegian movie that was the basis for the Al Pacino/ Robin Willams remake, also damn good, I thought. The Norwegian one has one of my favorite actors in it, Stellan Skarsgard, from Sweden (he was also the mathematician in "Good Will Hunting" and Fr. Lancaster Merrin in "The Exorcist: The Beginning"). After I studied Norwegian, I was hoping to understand more of the dialog in the movie...I didn't and later found out that the Stellan wasn't even speaking Norwegian, rather it was Swedish, although the languages are close enough to understand if you are a native speaker of Norwegian. Anyway, after being around Danish for a week, with my bit of Norwegian I've studied, and with my German, I could understand the movie a lot better than I had ever been able to before (mostly thanks to the Danish, though, I think, ironically). I also enjoyed it quite a bit more, because it has a very dark sense of humor as well, so dark, and so different from what I'd seen in American movies that in large part I missed most of it the first time. But after years of honing or refining, and getting to know better, the sense of humor I have, and perhaps a few experiences the last couple of years, I was able to find the humor in it, and it really does have some good moments.

Dylon and I also watched "Lord of War", with another of my favorite actors, Nicholas Cage, in it. It's a movie about an arms dealer who ends up selling his soul as well as his firearms, and in it's own right, a very funny, but very dark, movie.

Sometimes, humor is a very effective and creative weapon to make a stand against the dark side of people (and sometimes it's just a fascinating perspective), but in case you are thinking I just dig those kinds of movies that are dark and not cheery, and grim, NOT SO! I say, because Dylon and I also watched "Love Actually." Sorry, Dylon, full disclosure. I was very curious about this movie, because I'd heard that for a "chick-flick", if you will, it was very well done, exceptionally so, even. I thought it was very entertaining. Not particularly realistic (it seems like someone had told me it was one of the more realistic love story movies), but then, it doesn't have to be. Due to the fact that it follows several story lines that (I think) are all related someone, it was kind of like the "Pulp Fiction" of love stories. Anyway, it was a decent movie, and anyone looking for a feel-good movie, maybe check it out, you might like it.

Yesterday I took me a trip down memory lane. Thanks to the miracle of YouTube I was able to watch the pilot episode of "SeaQuest: DSV" which I had not seen in over a decade. It was practically all new to me, even though that as a little kid I was a faithful follower of it as long as I could, although, after the first season, it got weak, even for me. BUT. This is before all that. The acting wasn't what I had remembered as a little kid, but who cares, it was nostalgia for me! :-D I might even go and watch another episode tonight, and have a beer while I'm doing it. And I might watch "Poltergeist" also, the first DVD I ever bought, back when we still had to play them on our PC.

It hasn't been all movies, though. I've been social beyond that: Dylon and Iona and I all made a dinner together and with her boyfriend and one of his friends, all had a talk about, of all things, firearms (Dylon has some military background, as did one of the guys with us, but in the German army). We also talked about the differences in traveling: To the Germans, a week in another country is nothing, six months is a vacation, and a year or so is "knowing the country." To Americans, driving to Kansas might be an adventure. I don't think that the amount of time should be the primary factor, but how you used it. I only got a taste of Danish culture, but because I mingled with the natives and saw the sights with them, I probably did pretty decent than tourists who spend the same amount of time there.

I also made some chalk drawings. One picture that I gave up on, one of a tree and a blue backgound, one of a barn and a black grove of trees, against a fiery red sunset/storm background (it was supposed to represent fall, the most romantic of seasons), and finally a Sand Hills field with hay bales under a crackling thunderstorm, reminiscent of home for me. I prefer paint or pencil sketching...chalk is super messy and it's hard to make sharp edges (maybe you aren't supposed to) but being creative like that kicks butt. It's like exercising a new muscle, it's like a breath of fresh air. I don't want to do much painting here, because it'd be a hassle to send it home when I already have enough stuff, but when I go home, I want to get into art more. I love languages,do I ever love them, but there is so much more I want to see and try my hand at as well.

The people are trickling in: We already have five new comers: three women from America, one from Australia, and a guy from Australia as well. I've only seen some of them, and mostly only in passing, so I'm curious to see how things go for them. Hopefully well. I'm glad I'm here for a year though, and didn't do a semester. That wouldn't have been enough time for me.

Alright, well I'm going to go back to entertaining myself on this black cold night. We'll see what happens.

Best wishes for the remainder of the weekend!

Tristan

A Week in Denmark

Dear Constant Readers,

Sometimes when I start writing an entry in my blog, I look over the week and am not exactly sure what to say. This time it is easier, because last week, from Wednesday until Wednesday, I visited a friend of mine in Denmark. As I've written about before, I was afraid to buy plane tickets, mostly because it simply is something I'd never done before and in my mind buying them, getting to the airport, and making the connecting flight and so forth seemed all so complicated that something was bound to go wrong.

But one can't live in fear, and besides, if I ever plan on getting home, I'm going to have to arrange this again, or something very similar to it at least.

Things mostly went off with out a hitch. I missed the first bus to the airport, because despite the fact I had looked at the schedule a few times as well as pulled it up on the internet to look read it from the comforts of my teeny little room here, I still managed to misread it. In my mind it made a lot of sense, but as usually happens when I look at things that involves lots of numbers, I was way off the mark. But I had arranged so that I'd be at the airport plenty early, and made it without further incident. It turns out that both my plane from Frankfurt Hahn and also the plane out of Stansted (near London) were both an hour delayed, so I pretty much made up for the time I had fumbled.

I arrived in Aarhus Airport, Denmark around 10.00 PM (or was it 11.00? I was tired) and met my friend Maria, who I'd met while she studied at my university, and her boyfriend, Frithjof. They picked me up and drove me to Aalborg, where they lived. Even though it was dark, my impression of Denmark was very much like that of home, from the way the land looked. Some of the towns reminded me very much of the small little places in eastern Colorado my family drives through to get to my grandparents' homes. Denmark, from what I saw, is a very flat land, and so is where I'm from (at least until you run Cross Country or ride bikes across it, and then suddenly you find all the hills).

Some of the stand-out memories from it where going out with Maria and her friends because of a birthday one of them had. There was a guy from Australia there as well, so for the benefit of him and me, the group spoke mostly English, all of them very good at it. My experience with Scandinavians, and I have no doubt that most people who have encountered them would agree, is that for non-native English speakers, they speak some of the best English when compared with many other countries. I realize that is a generalization, and that it really depends on the individual, but in some of the countries I've visited, and with some of the people I've spoken with from several places, Scandinavians (Danish, Norwegian, and Sweden) seem to have the most confidence with it. I'm probably making a statement that someone might not like, but I'm just speaking from personal experience. Finland as well, as it is also on the peninsula, although Finnish is not a Scandinavian (and, by default, Germanic, the same as English) language, in fact it is not even an Indo-European language. Therefore, speaking English for them is perhaps all the more "difficult".

In any case, the reason why I'm saying all this is because they were all proficient in English for benefit of this Australian guy and myself. I don't really like speaking English when with a group of people from a non-English speaking country, I felt a bit guilty, like they were having to go out of there way for me, but I really didn't have much of a choice. But they didn't seem to mind. The Danish language is much easier than German for me, even though I have never really formally studied it. However, by the end of the week, I had already started to pick up basic things from sentences, on a very few occasions enough to not really need a translation. Lest this sounds like a boast, though, let me first clarify: Two summers ago I taught myself a fair amount of Norwegian; not enough to speak fluently, but enough to get through reading it to get an basic idea of what was being said. My knowledge was more passive than active, as is usually the case with language study, I think, but it was there. In the two years since I worked through my course book, though, a lot of it has fallen into disuse. But. Norwegian and Danish are very similar written languages which share a history to the point that it can be difficult to tell the languages apart. Honestly, I think they look more like dialects of one another, probably to the horror of Danish and Norwegian speakers. The spoken forms, however, are a bit more different, also rather similar, but with just enough differences to actually stand alone as different languages. Still, they are indeed rather close. And with the exposure of Danish from Maria, Frithjof, her friends, and written Danish in general Norwegian words that I had forgotten I'd learned came back to me with very little difficulty. When I tried to speak Danish, my pronunciation was kind of bad, and I had a natural inclination to use the musical qualities in Norwegian, but it was a start, and lit the fire in me to want to relearn my Norwegian all the more, and then move on to Danish hopefully soon afterward.

Maria, two friends of hers, and I also went to the zoo, which was more fun that I thought it would be. I used to not really care too much about animals, I was just indifferent to them, but ever since I got done with high school and got to college I've been trying to improve some things about myself, just be in more harmony with things. I don't mean to sound hokey or anything like that, I just mean it in a practical way, to appreciate the world around me, including its animals, a little more. It's kind of an interesting experience for me, to see the world from this angle. It means one has to be a little more observant and a bit less selfish, something that can be challenging.

As it was still cool outside (but a nice sunny day, considering typical grey Danish early-spring weather) some of the animals were indoors napping rather than outdoors roaming their simulated plains or hanging in their trees. At the indoor African exhibit, I saw some animals down below a bit in a pen which looked like deer, or gazelle, or something, I'm not sure what exactly they were. There were about eight of them, and I got the attention of two of them when they saw I had my camera ready. I didn't really do anything, they just stopped and looked at me, so I took a few pictures. Then I turned around to the girls, who were talking to each other, and said the animals were looking at me. They got up and went to the edge of the pen and looked a little shocked. I turned around and saw that every single one of the deer had dropped what it was doing and was standing stock-still, looking straight at me. It was a bit unnerving, and unfortunately I didn't have a wide enough lens to get it all into one shot, but I enjoyed the chance to see this.

The next day Maria, Fridtjof, and I all went to Skagen (pronounced "Skayn", apparently known as "The Skaw" according to Wikipedia, I see just now) in Northern Denmark. Skagen is unique for a few things. For one, nearly all of the buildings in this little coastal town have red-tile roofs and are painted a specific shade of yellow...so specific in fact that it is called "Skagen Gul" (Skagen Yellow). It also has the reputation of having very good lighting, and therefore attracted many artists at one time. Whether this is true or not, I don't know, but I did see the grave of an artist who was buried on the beach, as well as a house that had once belonged to an married artist couple, which I thought was kind of amusing and cool as it was red, in stark contrast to the yellow buildings around it.

But the most fascinating thing about Skagen, I thought, was the fact that it is the only place in the known world where it is possible to see waves crashing coming in from two separate directions and crashing into one another, creating a frothy, stormy look that was enhanced by that day's gloomy weather. This happens because the waters from Albaek Bay and Tannis Bay meet at the shifting sandy point in such a way that it creates something which makes the water do that. From that last sentence I hope it is crystal clear I studied almost no geography.

But seeing waves hit each, something I'd wondered as a little kid if it was possible and where, made me reflect upon something else. Somehow, I ended up standing on the northern most tip of Denmark, in really almost the middle of now where, and I even saw a real live, wild sea lion flop his little way into the sea and away from me where I could barely get a picture of it, made me realize that in 21 years, I haven't done too bad for a kid from the Nebraska/Colorado border. All my life I've wanted some kind of adventure, and I have Indiana Jones to thank for that, if you want the Right-Hand-of-God truth. I've read stories about travelers, and if I had a time machine, I would like to use it to travel around with Marco Polo or Lewis and Clarke, or someone of that sort. I may have written about my romantic ideas about traveling and adventure before, so I apologize if I'm repeating anything. But one of the lessons I've learned from traveling is that it is not romantic, and at times it can be kind of boring. People seldom tell the stories where you sit around wondering what to do next, because it isn't all that exciting. But this is a what happens in life sometimes, and I am not complaining about it.

Sometimes I don't know how to see the world. I look at it and observe it, and although it is really unique, sometimes it all looks very similar. Does this mean I'm looking at it only superficially, or because I'm looking at it in depth and seeing the similarities, the way people say "deep down we're all the same"? Like I know I've said before, the real rewards from traveling/meeting people are the more subtle ones than the obvious ones. Under all the clothes, tattoos, piercings, languages, cultural quirks, senses of humor, and the list goes on, there are humans with human hearts and human concerns. Maybe it's not even under all this, maybe all these details point to this fact. Even in a tiny country in Northern Europe, where standards of living are high, it is still possible to be lonely, or to find a job, for example. But there's the positive side too, to get a kick out of seeing animals do goofy things at the zoo liking seeing a monkey cover itself up with a blanket, or to meet a total stranger and find that it is very easy to suddenly tell jokes with them.

Maybe people ask themselves then, "If everyone is so similar, why bother even leaving home?" And to them I'd say that it's fine. Some people have all they need right there. But with such a large garden, why not go see what's growing in it? Why not leave behind everything you know for a bit? Because often times people travel wanting to learn something new about the world, and instead, as corny as it may sound, they end up learning something new about them. I've learned a few things already about myself. Some of it is good, like I learned I can cook, and I learned that it is possible to burn vegetables even if you do put water in there to just steam them, and I've also learned some things about myself that I'm not so proud of, but this is equally useful information to help one learn who one really is, where the cracks are, and where the strengths are. While no one can be perfect, I think a knowledge of shortcomings is helpful when trying to mature.

I'm getting way off the subject of Denmark here. I still have to talk about my trip to Copenhagen, Denmark's capital city. Maria and I went and visited the city on a day trip the day after we were at "the Skaw". I really wanted to see the Little Mermaid statue, basically because it was the only thing in Copenhagen (and besides Legoland, in almost the whole of Denmark) that I really knew about. For those of you who don't know, "The Little Mermaid" was written by the Danish author Hans Christian Andersen, known by the locals as just H.C. Andersen, and it is rather grimmer than the Disney version that's perhaps more famous. The statue itself, situated just on a rock just on the water, has seen its fair share of violence, as well: On occasion hooligans have been so impressed by the statue, that they lop her copper head off. After around three times (I guess, I don't really know) they finally reinforced her most recent replacement head with steel. And indeed the repair job is so good that to the untrained eye, a hint of vandalism isn't really apparent. But Maria and I both agreed that, criminal though it may be, learning that your grandfather as a youth did this, and that your family has the original mermaid head would be kind of cool. Hypothetical of course, but just imagine. Or be ashamed, I guess. The choice is yours.

The grey weather dissipated while we were visiting Copenhagen and we were blessed with a warm, cloudless day in which to see the rest of the city. I asked Maria if she considered me a tourist visiting her, and she said that defining what a tourist is really difficult. But on the way to see a large library, we ended up getting lost and in fact cluelessly walking in the opposite direction, so I guess we really were tourists.

My last real day in Denmark was just a chill out day. Maria and I went to the park to see the birds at the pond and to buy candy, because that evening we stayed indoors watching "The Bourne Supremacy" and playing "Burn Out 2". I didn't really feel like doing anything major, since I had to be up at 5 the next morning to catch my plane. I said my good byes to Frithjof, who I was quite happy to see throughout the week we got along fine thanks to our similar screwy senses of humor, and then I spent a restless night in bed; before traveling or something major, like an early class, I tend to sleep very poorly.

Maria accompanied me to Aarhus were I caught the bus to the airport. The traveling from Denmark to London and then onto Germany went off without any real incidents, but it was a lot of tiresome waiting, something that can make traveling dull. But it can also be fun, since while waiting for the bus, I shared a table at a cafe in the airport with some Germans who were very impressed by my German. It made me feel good, of course, and native speakers are the best judges, but like I said in my last post, I have so far yet to go before I personally feel comfortable in my German. Nevertheless, little bits of encouragement such as this are always most welcome.

I got back to Trier around 10.00 PM (or maybe closer to 11.00...detecting a pattern yet?) and ran into some people from my hall. I actually had been a little homesick for Germany while away. I missed the people I've begun to form more solid relationships with, and apparently the weather was beautiful the entire time I was gone. But naturally I'm happy about my trip to Denmark and to see my friend Maria again. I'm always glad to be back in Germany, which somehow is starting to feel a bit like a home to me, and I need a rest now, because even a week can exert a person a bit, but I'm sure in time I'll be ready to pick up my backpack again and trusty satchel again.

I think this is a good place to finish my entry.

I hope all is well, and thank you Maria and Frithjof for your hospitality. Say hello to our companions to the zoo and the Harry Potter movie for me, Maria! :-)

Sincerely,
Tristan

News from the break

Dear Constant Readers,

Once again I am writing from my university. Generally I really dislike using public computers because I am afraid they save my information, like my passwords, and stuff, which has happened to me before when something did log out like I thought it had. And thus I've become a bit paranoid of computer cafes and so forth. But really, it looks like I have no choice anymore, and some internet access is better than no internet access at all.

This past week has been quite relaxing in general. My floor in Cusanushaus has normally been quiet, but now it's been especially so since a lot of people have either gone home or retreat into their rooms to study for tests that they have over the break. But in the absence of almost everyone, I've gotten the chance to get to spend some more time with one of the people on my floor, and have thus gotten to know her better. One-on-one relationships are the kinds that I prefer, but I think that at some level, most people might feel the same way. It's part of the reason why I chose a small university over a large one where the professor doesn't see anything but a blob of faces in a lecture hall.

Anyway, Christina, the girl I just mentioned, is the same one who, at the beginning of the year sort of rescued me by knowing Spanish and talking to me in that when my German still sucked. We've spent some time hanging out, and then a few days ago a new student moved in, a fellow from Mexico, so the three of us showed him some parts of Trier on the far side of the Moselle; the nature side, as opposed to the city side.

Initially, I was worried that I wouldn't be taking advantage of my free time if I didn't travel more, but really, I'm quite happy here spending time with the people here when I can.

But I will be doing some traveling, nonetheless. Tomorrow I fly to Denmark for a week to see a friend of mine who studied at my university. I'm looking forward to the trip, but I'm also nervous about it. Part of the reason is because what I discussed in my last blog entry: I look at traveling as a matter of course for me, but also I sometimes get a little nervous before leaving, especially when connecting flights and strict time tables are involved.

Otherwise I've been taking it fairly easy here. The weather has been usually unpleasant, so I've spent a fair amount of time indoors studying my grammar book, or trying to read 'The Life of Pi' ('Schiffbruch mit Tiger') in German, a book that I've mentioned already, I think. So far in all my language learning career, I've only read one book in a foreign language: 'Un Mexicano Mas' in Spanish. I forget who wrote it, but I recall not being too impressed by the story. A Spanish teacher gave it to me to read because it was a short novella, and not too complicated, or so he seemed to think, but I still needed a couple of months of pouring over it with my little electronic dictionary. My host mother read it in one sitting, and also said that she didn't like it too much. I have a few other books in foreign languages, but I haven't read any of them yet. This is something that I really need to change, because I enjoy reading grammars (to a point, then I get tired after a while) but a language is far more than merely grammar, the same that a human body is more than just skeleton and muscle, although both are necessary.

I saw off a friend of mine last week, Joseph, one of the guys who had come to Ireland with Brian, Ily, and me. I was surprised at how sad I was to see him go. He and I never spent much time together, and barely ever talked, but he always had something to say, usually something thought out, even if I didn't always agree with it. I'm glad that he asked me to help him carry his stuff to the taxi cab, though. He was the first person I saw when I got here; in fact, he arrived the exact same moment I did, and I think it was appropriate then that I saw him off from Cusanushaus as well. And of course, I was sad because it reminded me of how I'm going to be leaving soon. More than half of my trip here is already gone. I'll be happy to get back and see my friends, sure, and of course be with my family again, but it's never easy to say goodbye.

But I don't have to think about that yet (except for finding which date I'll come home on).

Another woe that I've been trying to get rein of is trying to be lighthearted about my language studies. This is something that I've written about before, so you can be sure that it is something quite important to me. Twice this past week I've been told I need to just go easier on myself, but it's hard for me to do, although they are right. I know they are, because I give people the same advice they are giving me. But advice is always easier to give than to receive, isn't it? Why do I want to learn a language as well as a native speaker? To prove I can do it, to myself, and to prove it can be done, to anyone who cares. Probably not very many. It's more of a personal challenge, the way the person sets the goal to run the mile in such and such a time, or whatever. By that analogy, however, everyone can train their hearts out, but not everyone can be a gold medal Olympist.

Maybe I'm not as good as I want to be, or as I believed I was. Part of me wanted to be the best, and I don't think I need to be apologetic about it. Who wouldn't want to stand heads and shoulders above the crowd? I think it's a natural feeling, so why should I be any different? But to realize that one will never be as good as they want is a bit of a humbling blow. It makes me wonder if maybe I've invested my time poorly. I've come far, damn far considering I taught myself almost everything I know, and has gotten my practice here. From the view on the outside, it probably is easier to see how far I've come. One seldom feels himself growing, yet one day the realize they can see over the edge of the table. But on the inside, I can see still where the faults are. Where the words are missing, where the confidence is missing, etc. Maybe I've misinterpreted the literature I read back when I was younger. They always stressed the importance to be focused, the importance to believe in yourself, and maybe I've taken it too far.

Years ago I hated running. I hated the burning feeling in my chest, I hated coughing up that salty glob of saliva because I was out of shape and could be outrun by a tree, and would have given anything to fall into a heap instead of run around the church basement (St. Luke's didn't have a gym) under the eye of the gym teacher Mrs. Lewis. Now though, I love running, if the weather's decent. I don't take it seriously, and I never really have. I've never gotten stressed about running itself (I did about Track, but that's a different story), hardly ever ate right, and with an impish smile I shamelessly drank of the forbidden nectar, Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, Barqs, and any other black carbonated goodness, right in front of my coaches, because I just didn't give a damn. I had fun, though.

I have endurance when I run now. I'm relatively in shape. I go jogging, make my own schedule, go my own routes. I no longer don't compete against anyone. But I have the endurance that is needed to go for miles long on a good day, through hills and all that. I plan on continuing running, because its about as simple (not necessarily easy, though) as any sport there is.

So maybe I need this attitude when I study languages. I've always felt though, that this lacked a focus...for running, I just run, but for learning a language, I've felt I've needed a focus to learn one, because there are so many that I want to get to I want to get to a good, comfortably fluent level and then move on to the next. It's a bit like training for a marathon, for which I would have to focus, because I would not be in shape for competitive running of that caliber right now.

But maybe I'll find I accomplish more if I take it in less serious steps than I have been going on. Basically, my question is this: Is it possible, I ask myself, and anyone else who might be interested, to believe in one's self, and ease up without compromising that belief? Does that even make sense? I don't want to lose the edge, so to speak, that I've been trying to get, nor do I want to lose sight of my long-term goals of learning many languages, and learning them well. Some part of me is afraid that by even taking things in smaller bites, which is what I know I *do* need to do, I'd someone be cheating myself. This is what I'm passionate about. Some people love sports, some love politics, some love computers, some love whatever. This is what I have. I don't know what I'm trying to prove. That I'm the best? I'm not, not in the entire world, but I would like to be the best I can personally be. But is passion about trying to prove anything to the world? Maybe it's just trying to find something that gives meaning to one's life.

So I don't have anything else to say about that. Oh, look, it's raining. The weather here for the past couple of days was quite nice, a bit of a rarity here. But I need to wrap this up.

I appreciate that there are people out there who are reading this, people I don't even know about, and people that I love dearly, alike. Even if it does get a bit tiresome once in a while!

I hope all is well, like always.

Sincerely,
Tristan