Truth is...
No matter how scary it is to let go, it isn't the experience that matters, not the events that were once present in our lives, not their seeming current absence, not the people around us (although it is harder without them), not who we were once and how we once acted- it's what we make of the time and the adventures that we had, it's how such had affected us and transformed us...what we make of the new ME.
Letting go is hard, because, as it turns out, even after 10 years here I'm still scared. Apparently Almaty is still my comfort zone...who would have thought? Heh, in that case I'm grateful for the opportunity to test myself, to be out of my comfort zone, constantly, after all, I've realised that really, that's what I'm into;)
Maybe that's why I turn into a psychotic, homicidal (although that's more so just perks of being Poli), germophobic, bipolar bitch when I'm in Vienna? Although, I haven't lived lived anywhere else for a long time, so I can't objectively judge this situation. Of course, the place where one lives and attends education or works is always going to have a different place in one's mind then the place where one goes on holiday... but, that doesn't have to be this brutal.
Wien, let's start getting along for real this time, please? :)
No matter how scary it is to let go, it isn't the experience that matters, not the events that were once present in our lives, not their seeming current absence, not the people around us (although it is harder without them), not who we were once and how we once acted- it's what we make of the time and the adventures that we had, it's how such had affected us and transformed us...what we make of the new ME.
Letting go is hard, because, as it turns out, even after 10 years here I'm still scared. Apparently Almaty is still my comfort zone...who would have thought? Heh, in that case I'm grateful for the opportunity to test myself, to be out of my comfort zone, constantly, after all, I've realised that really, that's what I'm into;)
Maybe that's why I turn into a psychotic, homicidal (although that's more so just perks of being Poli), germophobic, bipolar bitch when I'm in Vienna? Although, I haven't lived lived anywhere else for a long time, so I can't objectively judge this situation. Of course, the place where one lives and attends education or works is always going to have a different place in one's mind then the place where one goes on holiday... but, that doesn't have to be this brutal.
Wien, let's start getting along for real this time, please? :)
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