Fortress of Solitude

Today was pretty good, but I guess the fact that I am sitting here with a tea spoon and a jar of Nutella means that "pretty good" is not the full truth (it's the Graeter's philosophy for Switzerland). 

For the most part, it has been pretty cool knowing German here; the way I have described it to some people, is that it's like I scored a secret decoder ring from life's Cracker Jack box, and now I just sort of "get" it, or at least more. I heard that once you start instinctively counting in that language, the language is embedded in you. I haven't gotten to that point yet... I only say "Nie" for "No" without hesitation. But being the lord of this ring also means that I "get" when people are harassing me or making fun of me being American. I had a nice conversation with a guy named Mohammad at the Mittendren café after work. I had to speak in all [fragmented] German because he knew nicht Englisch und nur ein bisschen Italienisch. I was really trying, and there was a group of people making joke about it. Also went to Revolutionary Road tonight with Maia, which speaks about 50s suburbia, and a couple's dream to move to Paris. What a serious movie, and there was just a theaterful of laughter. I am trying to give them the benefit of the doubt, because when I followed the german subtitles they weren't exact translations, and who knows how much they learned about that period in American history. But I am thirsty right now for someone who is sensitive and accepts me, as an American or Arab or Antarctic. When you think about it, the country you are born in is chance, and the politics that envelop the region you live in are not in your direct control, and I wouldn't want them to be. I am going to stop now before I get too heated. I don't want to paint a false picture of the Swiss. These are only my individual encounters recently, and I have had plenty of good ones, too.

In the movie today, I was thinking how cool it would be to learn the trade of cinematography, or to be a film composer. I have always admired cinematographers, and how they can help us see the story. But it wasn't until The Holiday with Jack Black (embarrassing but true) did I ever really picture a film composer being spunky. I want to be a spunky film composer when I grow up, or at least know one!

It was really warm today, 12 degrees... Celsius. Yep, that means 54 Fahrenheit! It was awesome. I love hearing the birds chirp here on my way to work in the morning. I don't understand why they don't migrate. Maybe some do and some don't. Well, the weather today apparently proves why.

I have re-fallen in love with the idea of owning or regularly using a typewriter.

I have been journaling more again, which is a good thing. A blog cannot replace pen-to-paper interactions. Writing is a slosh out of the soul's decanter, and you just need to let loose sometimes. Through journaling, I have been realizing that this alone time that I have now, although it feels like a curse sometimes, it is what I need and in some ways, exactly what I prayed for. Just like m&m's aren't plain, they are milk chocolate, my solitude is not loneliness but a fortress of solitude. I guess it is all in the way you look at it.