Such a mixture of feelings I never felt before! Yesterday night, I was supposed to work on some translation exercise, but it didn’t exalted me so I went to watch a series episode, one of those that make you calm and relaxed before going to bed. It recounts the adventures of some bloke that got trapped in the year 3000, and of his Cyclopean female friend, of his robot-cynic friend, and of his now progeny, a 154-year or so mad scientist. The absurd amuses me; I’m a big fan of Matt Groening. Well that night the episode was fairly bleak, and disappointed, I headed to bed. I had planned to read a little bit of a book about Margaret Thatcher, but I didn’t feel like taking in politics, so I searched my schoolbooks and found – I didn’t know it yet – a treasure! “Paradise Lost” it is entitled. I am moderately fond of poetry, I occasionally read a few lines during my free time. But I decided to go through the introduction, always a tough part; it was our teacher that insisted upon the importance of going through these. She was right! I may have spent two and a half hours on it, but that was worth it. I indeed got absorbed, rereading every couple of lines that I didn’t immediately understand. The editor was very enlightening, educative, and his selection of criticism totally unbiased. I felt such a thrill perusing upon the different themes addressed! I am a committed atheist, and yet I didn’t imagine at first all the theoretical knowledge accumulated on the subject of say “Milton’s vision of the innocence”. How much this man must have known to write such a powerful book! …And I haven’t read it yet. You can understand that I’m eager to start. All this brought me to 3 :30 AM. I didn’t see the time pass. That also is fulfilling. I was to get up early this morning to attend the American civilisation course. One can say it was about to be a failure, for me. This “vigil” nearly killed me. I didn’t know my whereabouts when I was sitting on my bed. It took me five good minutes to realise. The worst is not yet arrived: I even forgot to take my daily coffee. This was devastating for me. I was a quasi zombie for the two-hour course. Imagine when you’re exhausted on the train, when sleep attacks only for a few seconds and just then, you realise that you’ve been sleeping because you find yourself having the head bent over your knees. Well it was twice worse for me this morning… I did prepare my money to get me an unfresh coffee at the machine at the end of the course. This was quite a twinge of sadness too. I LOVE freshly percolated coffee, the one you feel passing in your guts, and in your brain just ten minutes after. This almost musky scent obsesses me. Just imagining the different flavours of Arabica, Italian taste, “café bien noir” … Yes I live with psycho-active drugs all around me, and I like it!
