It was cloudy today and sometimes raining a little. I woke at twenty minutes past eight and wanted to practice ballet, but during the night I'd become tense and was feeling totally un-fit. At breakfast we had an argument. Everybody told me I was unfriendly and nagging and scolding all the time. I felt very lonely and trapped, surrounded by barbarians. Why can't we be a little more normal?
After breakfast I practiced with the Franklin book and the balls. I was completely tense and lying on the balls hurt a lot, but afterwards I felt clear and well in my hips and pelvis. I'd been doing the iliopsoas exercises. In between I was drawing: the chakras in a person and things that make me feel rich, like martinis, macaroons, MAC brushes, croissants and Chanel perfume.
It was so windy and sullen that we didn't go to the beach. For lunch Diane made pasta with cream sauce and I ate too much, even though it wasn't good. Afterwards I was dead tired and slept a little. At this time the weather was at its stormiest. When I woke up, this feeling I had to take care of was back. This time was better, especially the second time.
Then I at last read this fragment of my story I had taken along intending to type it. It was tinily written, probably during a lecture. I rewrote it by hand because Papa had the laptop. And because I didn't want to write everything out in case somebody read it, I wrote the names in Tengwar. Suddenly, the desire came up to really learn and practice Tengwar again. Sadly I didn't have anything with me, so I had to make up a small table from memory.
Then I also practiced a little ballet, and was half embarrassed about Tino and the Germans who might have seen me, and half happy about it. I practiced pirouettes, adagio, grands battements, tendus and stretches. The story was haunting my thoughts, so after dinner I went on writing it. I showered and got ready, but when I was lying in bed I was so awake that I continued writing. It flowed well and I wrote and wrote, but when I read through it, it was much too short. The characters didn't seem credible. A shadow of that longing feeling I got when reading the fan fictions made itself felt. I wanted to fantasize and 'thinking-game' about it, but fell asleep.
After breakfast I practiced with the Franklin book and the balls. I was completely tense and lying on the balls hurt a lot, but afterwards I felt clear and well in my hips and pelvis. I'd been doing the iliopsoas exercises. In between I was drawing: the chakras in a person and things that make me feel rich, like martinis, macaroons, MAC brushes, croissants and Chanel perfume.
It was so windy and sullen that we didn't go to the beach. For lunch Diane made pasta with cream sauce and I ate too much, even though it wasn't good. Afterwards I was dead tired and slept a little. At this time the weather was at its stormiest. When I woke up, this feeling I had to take care of was back. This time was better, especially the second time.
Then I at last read this fragment of my story I had taken along intending to type it. It was tinily written, probably during a lecture. I rewrote it by hand because Papa had the laptop. And because I didn't want to write everything out in case somebody read it, I wrote the names in Tengwar. Suddenly, the desire came up to really learn and practice Tengwar again. Sadly I didn't have anything with me, so I had to make up a small table from memory.
Then I also practiced a little ballet, and was half embarrassed about Tino and the Germans who might have seen me, and half happy about it. I practiced pirouettes, adagio, grands battements, tendus and stretches. The story was haunting my thoughts, so after dinner I went on writing it. I showered and got ready, but when I was lying in bed I was so awake that I continued writing. It flowed well and I wrote and wrote, but when I read through it, it was much too short. The characters didn't seem credible. A shadow of that longing feeling I got when reading the fan fictions made itself felt. I wanted to fantasize and 'thinking-game' about it, but fell asleep.
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