the modern world of confusion

I finished me exams!!!!! That 100% in oral German was a really pleasant way of ending them
Went to my dad's for dinner. We spent a long time talking. He must have really enjoyed it because he even gave me money to get a cab back home. That is so not like him. He normally looks at every penny 10 times before he even starts considering the slightest possibility of spending it.
I think he liked the evening because we spent a lot of time talking about my mum. He always supports me when I'm in a bit of conflict with her. Think it's just to annoy her and be the 'good one' while she can be evil for a while. Same goes for her anyway, only even more so.
Apparently children who come from divirced families are very likely to get divorced themselves. I really hope it's not true. I want to be happy and have a wonderful family one day.
I read that about 20% of all the married couples in Poland get divorced, which is basically nothing when you compare it to the 80% in Belgium. I wonder, why is it? Is it because people don't think carefully before getting married? Or simply because it's so easy to get divorced and look for someone better, more exciting? Have we just become conformists whose purpose in life and in a relationship is just to avoid any problems and simply run away as soon as they appear?
Now, here are two things that I've heard from parents recently and that say everything about them:
My dad: 'You could actually get married to your boyfriend one day. I've got used to him and you know how I don't like any changes.'
My mum: 'You're only 20. You're not allowed to have a life on your own yet.'
I'm so glad I'll probably get divorced before I even ever manage to have kids. Otherwise I'd have to ask them to bang me on the head very hard if I ever become like that.
Am still so impressed by the cab though.

After a really long break I'm finally back... last month has been really busy, I've been having my final exmas- the so called matura. I suppose the name is meant to show that once you've passed them you're a mature person. Surprising, considering what type of abilities and knowledge they expect you to have.
You can just imagine how shocked I was when, during my politics exam, I found an exercise which consisted of two bar graphs- one showing the qualities of a typical Pole, the other one of a typical European. Now, think about that for a second- just how stupid is that idea? Comparing Poles to Europeans? It looks like my country must have moved to a different continent when I wasn't looking. Looks like I must be African or Asian now which of course fully justifies comparing me to an European.
But that's not it. I know you won't believe it but it actually does get worse. The graphs showed that a typical Pole is: religious (Europeans aren't), patriotic (Europeans aren't), he cares about family (Europeans don't) and helps other people (which only just under 20% of Europeans do).
Furthermore, later on you were meant to draw conclusions from those thrilling, and oh so reliable and trustworthy graphs, and decide which one- the typical Pole or the typical European- is pro-community and cooparates with other people and which one is an individual (and ever since the communist times this word has virtually been a synonim for 'selfish pig'). I don't think I have to tell you what the answer was meant to be.
I talked to my parents about that and they said that even in the communist times the indoctrination in schools wasn't so strong. This shocking truth nearly made me forget that we're actually being led to a great, promising future by our fantastic twin Santas and their little helpers. God forbid, I ever doubt in their great, great knowlege, inteligence and vocation to lead this nation consisting of 40 million patriotic catholics who spend their time taking care of their families and helping others! Amen.

The only exam left now is oral German which I'm taking tomorrow and which shouldn't be too hard or crazy. After that I need to start looking for a job somewhere. It turns out that, being Polish, I'm not eligible for a maintenance loan at Oxford. So basically I'll need to work my tits off if I ever want to be able to afford my studies there. And, even so, I'll probably still have to live pretty much in poverty. It just feels so unfair since I speak English, feel English, want to study there and then stay there and work for this country and hopefully become British myself. I mean, do I really not deserve and support? Well, I suppose no holidays for me for the next few years...

Ok, enough complaining for now. I need to do my daily 'why I'm so happy to be Polish' mantra, so if you'll excuse me...

Women have been fighting for their rights for centuries. We succeeded. After years of protesting, burning bras and being described as 'ugly women who were never kissed' feminists managed to get us all the same rights as men have. We should be grateful to them and we should make use out of those rights. We deserve them. But when do we cease to be female and start pretending to be male? And how far do we really want to go?
It often seems to me that being a liberated, modern woman means pretending to be a man. I've been accused of not being feminist enough because I normally wear high heels and make up. Funny, considering that I'm actually planning to devote my life to fighting for women's rights in different parts of the world.
It goes further- how do we distinguish discrimination from tradition? What is proposal, marriage, kids?
I could never imagine proposing to a man. Ever. Maybe it's stupid of me. Maybe it means that I'm not properly liberated and modern. Maybe I'm silly even thinking about the ring, the kneeling down, the romance. Maybe getting married in church and wearing a white dress that virtually screams 'virgin!' is old-fashioned and hypocrytic. Maybe. But I want to have the right to choose it if I wish so. And I think that this, most of all, shows that I am a true feminist.

Someone has told me that if I could never imagine proposing to a man than I'm not actually a proper feminist and that I must have been lying about it. And it hurt, because I've always believed that it is possible to have both- the tradition that you grow up with and a modern lifestyle.

We are just as good as men and we can do just as many things. But why do we have to constantly prove it, to get rid of our femininity, to pretend that we don't actually care about things that have always been important to us? Do I really have to break off my heals and exchange my skirts for baggy trousers to prove that I'm just as good as men? Can't I be just as good in my own, feminine way?
Don't get me wrong now- I know that there are a lot of women who actually love baggy trousers and have never owned a pair of heels and hate the thought of marriage. I know them and I know that they can be really great and fabulous. They feel happy because it's how they want to be. Most importantly, they were given the choice. And this is what I'll always fight for.

I've heard that in the US you can get sued for opening a door for a woman. Apparently, it's sexual offence. I can't even tell you how ridiculous it seems to me. In Poland it's common for men to kiss a woman's hand while greeting. They open doors for us, they help us put on our coats, they pay on the first date. And it's nice. It's lovely. If a man opens the door for you it's not because he thinks that you can't do it yourself. It's because it's a nice tradition.
In my opinion, same goes for proposing. It's not because you couldn't buy the damn ring yourself. It's because how it's been for centuries. To me it's a beautiful, romantic tradition and I would hate to get rid of it.
Living in the modern world is great and I wouldn't axchange it for anything else. I want to live in London or New York, be rich, successfull and very influencial. I want to be famous and important and my dream is to help millions of women all around the world.
But after I'm done with it, I want to come home to my husband and children and let them be the number one in my life.
And I don't want to feel sorry for it. This is what I want, what I deserve and what I'm going to get. And I'll get through my life being a successfull, if sentimental, feminist in high heels, no matter what they say.

After quite a long break I'm back... the weather's gone all horrible again (although on the bright side it will help me get used to the English sort) and I'm too lazy to do any work... have just counted the days left until my final exams- exactly 48! 48 sunny, bright, carefree days filled with naive hope that I'll actually pass and go to Oxford.
Life's been pretty much the same as always (getting up too late, missing the bus, being late at school, getting shouted at, working, working, working, arguing with the boyfriend, coming back home, poisining myself with self-cooked -or should I say burnt?- food, working, working, working, falling asleep in front of the telly while watching some political programms with retarded politicians...) Ah, que bonita la vida!
Mum visited last week which was quite strange and surprising considering that I hadn't seen her since January. She spent one whole weekend here, making a mess in my kitchen, falling asleep in front of the TV (looks like it runs in the family), mumbling something about my bottom being too big and then in the end giving me some money and going back. Hell, I love my parents.

Boyfriend says that Poland's not politicially correct. Yesterday, while walking through the town, we saw something that he found really outrageous. It was a game called 'Chinczyk' (a Chinese) and it had a Chinese person painted on the box. He was all yellow, slant-eyed (and Im sorry if this expression isn't politically correct either, please just blame it on my poor linguistic skills) and wore a traditional Chinese hat. Apparently in England this would be banned. But then how are you meant to draw a Chinese person without making him yellow and slant-eyed?

I read an interesting article in the 'Economist' about how history is taught in different countries. Apparently in Turkey, every day before starting the school, kids have to say something like 'I'm Turkish, I'm proud of it, I'm great, honest, strong and my country is the best.' And I thought that Poland was nationalistic... on the other hand though, we were learning about the second World War and our history teacher actually told us that all of the countries had turned away from us, especially England and France which had promised to help us before. After that, Poles joined the British RAF and fought for London. Still, when the war was over and Britain had been saved, no-one needed them anymore and so all those great brave soldiers enden up sweeping streets or cleaning toilets. According to my history teacher, Poland was 'betrayed and sold' by the British in Jalta. Oh, and also apparently British kids learn that it was actually the English who broke the Enigma code. It surprises me, because Boyfriend claimes that British kids don't actually learn about Enigma at all.
During that history lesson I could just see some people turning their heads and looking at me with this horrible, accusatory look in their eyes. 'Why the hell me?' I thought and then I realised that having an English boyfriend and generally being really keen on the isles I am actually an accomplice in crime of not loving Poland and not thinking that it's the best country in the world.
I understand that some people might see it that way but it's always easy to just blame someone else. I just don't really believe that Poland has always been entirely good and all of the other countries have been evil. It seems to be far too simplified and nationalistic. I don't agree on such a viewpoint. I think that if Europe is ever meant to be integrated, there should be one, international history book from which schoolkids could be tought. As long as there are such huge differences between our viewpoints, as long as we are so nationalistic and just stick to our version without listening to anyone else, the true, deep understanding und union are not going to be possible.
I sometimes wonder if I'll manage to change anything in the world during my short pathetic life, spent in the company of a man who'll never agree with me and a bottom which is too big. I wonder where I'll go, which path I'll choose and where it will lead me to.
And even if I am extremely lucky and end up doing something I think is good and uselful, how will I ever know I'm right? Didn't most of the world's best-known dictators believe they were right? Didn't communists think they were doing the best thing possible? How can we ever really know what's actually right, how can we ever distinguish entirely between good and evil? I suppose the solution would be to follow one's conscience but then, how will the next generations judge us? What will history say about us? And how do we know that what we think is best for other people really is best for them?
I wonder what's actually really important and what is it that I'm aiming for. Why do I get up every morning, why do I work so hard? Is it really our famous human heroism? Or maybe just conformity?
Life's so short. I wish I could at least understand it a little bit better.

Endless work... If I survive next week, I'll survive anything... it's Sunday and I'm sitting at home learning everything that happened in period 1900-1939 in Poland and the rest of the world (including every single politician we had). Sadly, after the war our government used to changed about every 20 mins and every hour we had a new president. Looks like it's genetical for Polish politics to be all fucked up.
On a slightly brighter note though, my boyfriend and I have managed to watch the whole first series of 'Lost' (God, that stuff can get really creepy sometimes). The second series in not really available here yet but we're thinking of ordering it from Amazon or eBay. The film is really exciting although I wouldn't recommend watching it very late at night. The weird, mysterious reality presented in the series can really get into your head and keep on disturbing you when you want to sleep...
No philosophical thoughts today because I'm rushing to meet my dad (I feel obliged to meet him at least once every few weeks... sadly he hardly ever turns up and I end up having lunch with my step mother.)
Bad mood today. Wheather's horrible and my hair is just like Elton John- totally refuses to be straight. Cold outside. Miss Spain. Want to hide under the duvet and never come out. Is that really too much to wish for?

After a few days of constant work and not getting any sleep I'm back. The worst part of this week seems to be over (hopefully) and since I've been working so hard and doing so well, this afternoon I decided that I needed a little prize (every excuse is good). I've decided to go for the next best thing after sex (boyfriend temporarily not available) and impossibly complicated philosophical questions with no answers (my brain was aleady exploding) which was a little bit of shoping Of course my 'little bit of shoping' turned into a huge spending spree and I ended up with a new dress, necklace, some cosmetics and a fantastic new haircut that I've been thinking about for ages but was never quite brave enough to do it. The hairdresser had quite a fight with my stubborn hair but eventually I left with a much lighter wallet and a fantastic new haircut which makes me feel fabulous and (just for some people's information) much less insecure. If there was a competition for how quickly can you spend all the money you own in the whole world (including the money for your food and buss tickets), I'd certainly win. The consequence of today's afternoon will be having to starve myself for the next half a year, but hey, I've always admitted I'm quite a hedonist.
It's surprising how enjoyable little pleasures can be. But then I've never tried to hide the fact that I'm a great fan of the modern, capitalist, consumer society.
**
I've been thinking about life and how we get through it. In Poland, people often say that you shouldn't burn your bridges. But why not actually? Doesn't past belong in the past? Should you not leave old memories, events and pain behind? I soemtimes find it easier to burn my bridges...
I've descovered quite a while ago that I'm oversensitive to both good and bad things. My body, my brain and my soul feel and register far too much. Someone's delicate, barely noticible touch on my skin makes my have shivers running down my spain. A kiss can send me into a different world of pleasure and sensuality so great that they couldn't exist in normal life.
One bad word or seeing something sad can make me cry instantly. Having to fight the tears is so hard and tiring. I don't always manage.
A ray of sun fighting it's way through thick dark clouds can give me more hope than thousands of nice words. It can make me feel so happy, so optimistic, so incredibly alive.
Rain makes me feel so amazingly melancholic and nostalgic. Every drop is full of memories, old feelings and emotions. That's the strangest feeling of all- happiness gets mingled with sadness, longing becomes one with fearing something. Sometimes tears get mixed with the raindrops and I can't tell which one is which anymore.
A memory which suddenly strikes back from the depths of my subconsciousness can stop my from leading a normal life. It stops me on my way, makes me get lost and conused. It takes a lot of willpower to push it back where it belongs.

I sometimes think that walking through life is like walking in the wind. In order to avoid difficulties and unpleasant sensations you close your eyes and keep your head down. You just keep on walking, and your determination allows you to slowly move forward. You try not to think about the freezing wind on your face, you try not to notice how it makes its way through your clothes and touches your body, how it takes away every little bit of warmth you had left. You keep on walking because you know that in the end you'll get somewhere better, that the faster you walk, the sooner you'll get to a shelter.
If you do try and stop though, it will hit you with a great power. It will force sand into your eyes. It will make you shiver even more. It will make you so vulnerable, so distructible, so helpless. It will feel even worse than it did before. So why bother stoping?
Maybe it's better not to stop and not to look back.
Or maybe sometimes we just have to experience the pain and the danger, just to know that they are still there. Once we know that we can put our head down again, close our eyes and keep on walking.
Actually, we could even run. Run, run, run, as fast as we can. Run till we reach our shelter, our final destination. Run till we're safe in her arms. Run to death.

The winter is slowly giving in. The snow has melted and every day we get more and more sunlight. The beginning of spring is one of the most beatiful moments of every year. After long middle-ages of winter, spring feels like renaissance, bringing light, hope and making me feel alive.
Every year I feel an inner obligation to stop for a moment and think about what's changed. Have I achieved something new? Have I gained some new good features? Have I left my trace in the world? And most importantly- have I been following me heart? And where am I actually going?
What are we aiming for? Happiness, family, career? But then what is happiness? Is it just a mixture of a succesfull private and work life? Or is it the feeling that after we've died we won't disappear completely, that we'll be remembered?
Or maybe love's the answer? But yet again (and I know my questions are getting really annoying) what is love? Friendship with sex? A mystical, Romantic experience? A habit? Some chemical reactions? Or all of the above?
They say that love is giving without expecting to recieve anyting in return. But honestly, is there a single person in the world, who could do that? So what does that mean? That none of us is capable of true love?
They say that love is being prepared to die for the one you love- but isn't that just courage? There've been many people in the history who had died for their countries. But can you actually compare love to a country with love to a person?
Is there just one love? Or are there many different loves- for the partner, friends, parents, God, country, ideals? And if so, are they all equal? Or are some of them stronger than the others?
Is love eternal? What happens to it when people break up? Does it die? Go away? Or does it move onto the next person?
But then if it really is the strongest feeling in the world, coming from God, how can it ever die?
Or maybe it just doesn't exist at all? Maybe, similarly to religion, it was invented by humans in order to satisfy their certain emotional needs?

We were learning about funcionts of family in one of our lessons. Apparently, family's good because:
a) parents pass their believes and religion onto their children (well, mine certainly didn't)
b) parents are obliged to take care of their children and children have to look after their parents when they get old
c) it is a socially accepted way for people to have sex.
Now, the really does make a family sound special doesn't it? If you want to be sure you'll have money and want to fuck someone and not have your conservative neighbour gossiping about you and calling you whore, just get married.
Wow, now that is sooo romantic. I'm on my way to the altar.
I don't fit in here. I think and rebel far too much. I'm not married and still have lots of sex. I don't believe in sins. I'm not religious. I'm in favour of euthanasia and abortion. And I don't even know where I'm going.
Well, the spring's coming anyway. Let's see what it brings.

After a night of existentalist confusion, a new day has come. It's brought snow and even more questions.
I always used to think that people need to belive in something. In God, science, love, themselves. I used to wonder whether religion is actually only there in order to satisfy people's need to believe, to love and be sure of being loved forever, to know that things can't go too wrong because there's someone watching out for us and knowing what's the point of it all.
Of course religion was a great disappointment. It only brought more questions ('how do u mean he's ALWAYS been there? Surely something must have created him first?)and so I eventually turned away from it for good. In fact, I've become so anti-religious, I get annoyed by the old people who cross themselves while walking past a church. Maybe I just naturally wasn't meant for it, maybe not everyone can be religious, maybe some people ask more questions than they should.

It's not easy being an atheist in Poland. Unfortunately, the church has much more power and influence on the politics than it should do. One of Poland's main political parties is practically based on ideas such as 'Jesus Christ, the king of Poland' and 'Jews are evil because they killed Jesus' (and who was Jesus for God's sake? An American???). They are too busy disseminating hatred to homosexuals, feminists, liberals and all the other ‘abnormalities and perversions’ to notice that Poland has actually changed and isn't the same country as it was 50 years ago. Young people are leaving abroad, hoping to find a better future in a less radical and conservative but a better developed country. The country is now experiencing the biggest emigration that has ever taken place in its long and stormy history. Even the so called ‘Wielka Emigracja’ (The Great Emigration) which happened after the failure of the November Uprising in 1831 didn’t tempt as many Poles out of their country as the modern market and the difficult economical situtation are doing today. Poland has two faces and it is torn between Eastern and Western Europe.
In school, they try to teach us about patriotism. They make us read all of the Polish books and poetry, provided that the word 'Poland' comes up often enough. Our greatest writer, Adam Mickiewicz (Romanticism), had once compared Poland to Jesus being crucified. He said that Poland was 'the chosen nation', suffering in order to expiate other countries' sins. In Poland, we are thought to praise such ideas. In Germany they'd be banned for being too nationalistic.

Poland’s schizophrenic, which causes most Poles to have very ambivalent feelings about their country. They leave, promising to never come back, only to return a few months later because they have been longing for the familair traditions and landscapes far more than they would have ever expected. They constantly complain about their country but turn into fervent patriots as soon as anyone else dares to critisise it. They spend their weekends taking part in numerous demonstrations but often fail to turn up when it comes to the election.
My boyfriend, who's English, really likes it here. I am pretty sure he loves Poland much more than I do. Maybe it's because it was his own choice rather than something he's always been tought to do. Maybe if he'd been me, he'd also rebel. He says I critise Poland way too much. Pople in Oxford won't want a revolutionary living in their campus.
I don't know where I belong. I spent a year in Germany and I'm soon moving too England. I speak 5 languages and yet can't fully express myself in any of them. I wonder if having a few countries means having no country. Do my feelings get divided between them or do they just add up? If I have 100% of feeling for a country, does it give me 33% for Poland, England and Germany? Or do I get 300%? But then how could anyone cope with that many feelings? Is the identity crisis just one of the features of the modern world?

I don't mean to be all existentional because I normally get annoyed with existentional people but isn't the world really strange? We come here for some reason, spend here some time (too little to really change anything and yet too much to just sod the duties and enjoy oneself) and then go somewhere, God knows where (provided that he actually exists) and what is it all for? Our knowledge of the world and of ourselves is so patheticly little and yet we often pretend to know everything. Our time is so short and yet we waste it.
They used to tell me that humans are actually all hereos, simply because they bother to keep on living, studying and working although they know that their lives will end no matter what they do. But is living a normal, decent life really that heroic?
Lots of strange thoughts in my confused head... I used to think that the confusion would go away with the adolescence and worrying about spots and hair growing in strange places And yet there I am, on the border of the magical 20, still not understanding anything and still feeling so confused... don't even really know why I'm writing or if anybody will bother to read that crap but it's just probably some kind of exhibisionism.
Really late here and I've got to get up at 6am... will try to write something more soon...