In search of new adventures...The Bus.

Hurray towards new adventures!
However, the next one seemed to have started only one little bit too early.
At the back of my mind hundreds of thoughts were chasing each other, and somewhere among them I could hear a few quiet words...only if they were louder then...hmm...small bus, 10 Yuan (didn't they say 13 Yuan at the hostel??), hmmmm this would be the slower one...
For some obscure reason I indeed did nothing about the forceful thoughts and got charmed by a middleaged woman with bad teeth, wrinkled skin and her shrieks of 'Guilin! Guilin! Guilin!', got nastily tricked into serendipity.
7pm and off we go, the woman half standing on the steps of the bus with the door wide open in a deceiving grin, half hanging out of this door, screaming 'Guilin! Guilin!' still and again, devilishly luring other innocent (naive?) souls into her lair.
The bus kept stopping every ten-twenty metres and more and more people would get on, however never enough. The bus turned round at the end of the road leading out of the little town and I thought with relief that at last now we can really be off. I thought this until we suddenly appeared on the bus station again. This was the moment when I began my quiet despair and every so often looking at my watch I wanted to cry.
The whole procedure was repeated, worms of anxiety biting at my bum, and finally we really were off. At snail speed (aaaaaaaaaah! >_<).
For some reason I tend to have a very strange effect on Chinese middleaged women. I seem to bring them into this state of uncontrollable fury when they just yell and yell at me. I always try to be as sweet as possible, look really helpless and do my big eyes on them so I don't really understand why they yell that much.
This one was not an exception. One of the men on the bus was a guide and he started talking to me. I really didn't want to talk, I didn't want to be asked the same round of questions you always are, I only wanted to have a fag and keep looking out of the window into the darkness and think. But he continued talking to me and I had no other choice than to give in. This seemed to infuriate the Chinese middleaged woman with bad teeth and wrinkled skin even more, since he no only spoke to me but decided to not let me crumble down in utter misery and try to convince her to be nice and let the bus go faster. She wasn't yelling at me no more, she didn't even grant me one look, she pointed her crooked finger and screamed at the guide now, who ended up being a lightning-conductor for her divine anger.

Post-traumatic stress disorder??

Spoke to a friend yesterday and he criticised me for:
1) updating my chinese diary since when it is republished it is not on the top of the screen therefore he tends not to read it;
2) subsequently for not updating on current affairs;
3) and if updating on current affairs then writing about 'post-rationalised existencialist' matters (= too depressive for some perhaps??)

Hm.
I was a bit upset. But some boys don't care about girls being upset. That kind of sometimes makes me feel rather restless and when I imagine their face and their whole them I just feel like hitting them very hard so that they have at least a bit of a clue how it feels when they beat your you (you can't really get onto their insides to make them feel what they made you feel so you just feel like you need to hit the shell and hit and hit and hit).
Sad, eh?

And perhaps this aggression is somewhat of a reaction to the aftereffects of the amounts of stress we get subjected to and which I believe exams leave you with.
The exams have finished, and this fact is manifested via various means to action:
- my brain makes me be capable of switching a stove on (and put the pan on the one that's switched on rather than off) which means that I can actually eat somewhat more healthily
- I feel like actually going training and not just moaning about how I can not
- suddenly my mind is allowed to wander*
(unfortunaltelly so it seems that hitting people hard over their heads is not included thus I am made to believe it not to be generated by stress but by stupid boys)

-suddenly my mind is allowed to wander*
And I think about myself within the world in a more constructive way and the results that come out of the computer point east.
Rusty came to visit on Friday and it was wonderful, although it seems like we both need to reach for the skies for the planet is beating us down, slowly but presistently, bit by bit, cutting our wings off. And so we need to go...
Listening to the whispering whiz of the wind in empty spaces, feeling the initials of freedom being burned into our wide open anticipating hearts,...
With eyes open to the talk of our souls we have to walk on.