School politics

It was a holiday reception, a get together, but there were tensions in the room. I'm sensitive to these kind of unspoken languages.

Universities, I guess like all places where people congregate in confined spaces, are breeding grounds for competition, intrigue and excesses of pride and predjudice. I've seen it at my last university, and I see it again here. And it's disappointing, because the last thing I want is to be involved or drawn in in any way.

But I guess it's inevitable. I'm part of the system, or perhaps the system is part of me, and I'm sort of asked to take sides... with them or against them? I want to chart my own course, neutrality, and not have to bother with power play and displays. Yet, suddenly I am told today Ive been drafted into a project aimed to bridge two sides.... when in fact, it seems like it's one side trying to assert domination over the other. I politely smiled, non-committedly, but I knew deep down I am roped in.

I was only there for two hours, but I left the room like I've just spent the whole day exhausting myself, even though I've done little else than just smile and make small talk. There are those who are terribly good at it, those who can smooth-talk anyone with authority and influence. And I'm not one of these people. I'm glad I'm not, and that I keep down until I'm discovered. If ever.

Well, at least the food was good.

First day

I wandered around the unfamiliar streets of the city, cars, horns and sirens whizzing past, now and then the sound of chatter and laughter would pass me by. The sky darkened, and night had fallen. I was surrounded by tall steel and glass buildings, and suddenly it felt pretty lonely in the big city.

I guess the feeling is magnified with the fact that I was tired from having woken up at around 6 in the morning, and have been running around non-stop since then. First in search of an apartment, which still is as desperate as ever, and then going to class and having to wait a long time to be registered as a student. What made it worse was to hear that if by the end of the month I still do not have my student visa done, I will be deregistered and barred from attending class…

Earlier, I had gotten up early to go see an apartment with the lady at the hostel reception. She drove me there, and it took only 10 minutes with the car. For the first time, I could see how it was to go from the city into suburbia, and see that transition from crowded and busy sidewalks to white picket fences and mowed lawns. It was a very quiet residential area, and the apartment is huge, with two bedrooms, one living room, a kitchen and bathroom—all for around CA$600 only. But, later I found out if I were to commute, it would take me around 40 minutes to get to university, and I would much rather live nearby where I study, so I could blend more into the student life.

I treated the lady to some breakfast, for she had been so kind to offer her help in my house hunting. As we chatted, she mentioned something that struck me. She said that she was helping me because I was Asian, and if it were anyone else, then she would rather not extend a helping hand. Perhaps this is because of her divorce from a (white) local, whom she does not much of an opinion of. But then when it came to giving me advice on where to look for places to stay, she actually said that certain areas have a lot of Indians, and told me to avoid that. So much for the exciting multiculturalism and mix of peoples and languages, from Arabs to Europeans, from Jews to Muslims, from Chinese to Vietnamese, that I had encountered on the streets in the very short amount of time I have been in Canada.

I made my way back into the city on the metro. It rode on rubber wheels, like the ones in Paris, and soon I arrived at McGill, and it took sometime to find my way in the underground complex that lay under the main streets of Montreal. Riding the escalator to street level, I was again submerged under the shadows of tall towers housing many important banks and businesses. Then, at the end of the broad street, was an arched column, behind which scores of old building sheltered amid trees.

This was the McGill Campus, and I wandered inside, passing by countless other students on their way to class. Everyone dressed so informally in sandals and shorts, while I felt a little out of place in my white shirt and long dark trousers. It felt peculiar to be in a campus, the kind of place I have seen so many times in American movies, but never before experienced or seen. My first university was merely two buildings in central London, which housed a total of less than 3000 students. McGill was simply a giant, in terms of its student body and the scale of its campus.

I stumbled into my first class, and already a few classmates had sat down. They were pretty friendly, at least the first impression, and we briefly chit chatted. There were only around 15 students, all with diverse educational and professional backgrounds, and each from different countries, which should make the class really interesting. One thing that bound us together was our shared interest in and acceptance at perhaps the foremost institute for the study of air and space law.

The first three hours of lectures was intense, though the professor is really good. After a light-hearted introduction to the institute and to the staff, in the following hours we were bombarded with information on the intricacies of international air carrier liability. All I could think of was whether my long delay and missed flight the day before had anything to do with what we were learning about.

After the lecture, everyone seemed to just vanish somehow, which was a real shame. I was soon left wandering around the campus on my own, and it felt a bit disorientating, as everything was so big and there were so many people and buildings.

I only hope time will make me more familiar with the people and all these stranges sights and places...

Politicisation of flags

I am not really sure how I got embroiled in a political conflict, here at tmy summer school of space studies. I am at an institution founded on top-class education based on international exchange and intercultural understanding. But somehow the issue of my Taiwanese nationality has become an issue of debate. Unhappily so.

It all began as we were entering our final preparation stage for the report due next week. Historically, because the team compiling the report consists of dozens of people from all over the world, the tradition is that on the back cover there is a list of names, with next to the names the flag of the country where the person comes from. There have been incidences where people who have two nationalities have two flags next to their name.

So I do have dual-nationality, and like everyone who has the right to have both his/her country represented, I asked the person responsible for designing the cover to include the Dutch and Taiwanese flag.

Then came the email. From a fellow Chinese student who protested against the inclusion of Taiwan or the Taiwan flag in the flag. As if echoing the speech of an official from the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs, this issue (before I realised it became an issue at all!) became labelled as a "serious matter".

So I took steps to stop things going any further. Believe me, the last thing I want is to be in the middle of a debate about sovereignty and never-ending "Taiwan-is-a-part-of-China" claim. It is simply futile and does not get anywhere. I wrote a very diplomatic and carefully phrased email to our programme director, requesting that he clarify the issue, and I cc-ed the email to people in our team, thinking they should be informed about the latest development in this very unpredicted protest from our Chinese colleague(s).

Hours later, I was spoken to by the chair. Though it was right to refer the matter to the director, and though the Chinese student had no right to decide what goes in or out of the final group report, it was a terrible mistake for me to cc the email to everyone. It was escalating things further, and putting the matter on the public forum, I was told.

I came away from that meeting somewhat disheartened. I am not sure what I had done to provoke anything, and if I did do anything (like write that email and send it to everyone) then it was only because I wanted the input from a neutral party with the authority to decide on such matters of controversy. And somehow the issue has come back to bite me, and I've made a number of people irritated.

It is funny.... even at an academic institution of learning and international cooperation, that politics can raise its ugly head and wreak discord and sow upset. All because of a flag... all because certain people cannot tolerate dissent or another opinion, and feels the need to shoot down all semblances of what has so often been labelled "splitting the Motherland" or "subversion".

And all I wanted was to be represented. All what I wanted was to be represented fully like everyone else has a right to. I am Taiwanese and Dutch, and those are my identities, those are the cultures and countries that have shaped me. Am I to deny that because someone else protests?

Once again, the politicization of everyday mundane things unveals its ugliness.

No word spoken

I have been home already four days, but not a word was spoken with my so-called housemates. I know they are home, they know I am home, but we seem to pretend that the other is not home. If one hears the door open, the other does not go out of the room until the other is out of sight. I can hear where they are, and when I do, I do not go out of my room. If they are in the kitchen, I simply cook an hour later. Home sweet home.

As I came home from swimming this evening at around half past eight, I saw a silhouette walk in the same direction as my house. I cycled closer, and realised it was the hunched back of my brother, who looked tired and beaten. I got home first, and left the door open. Moments later he came through the door. I greeted him, and spoke to him. He just stood there, stared at me as if I were the most vile creature in the world, and said nothing.

I chuckled deep inside, and turned to walk up the stairs... how petty! How disgustingly petty and childish! I have not seen him for two weeks during Christmas and New Years, and he looks at me as if I am some sort of viscious criminal trespassing in his house.

But believe you me, I live here, I pay the mortgage, and I have more right to be living in this house than he with his precious little girlfriend. Of all the many ways I have helped him, helped them when they needed my help, this is the way they treat me... I could easily kick them out, I could easily make them homeless and force them to find a place of their own, which they should have done years ago, but I tolerate their presence, and let them enjoy the luxury of the house and let them occupy the whole house as if it were their own. And so ungrateful, so loathing of my parents just because my parents told them a few months ago to go find a place of their own. They are the occupiers, but this is the kind of treatment I get... to be treated as if I am the unwelcome occupant who should not be there to ruin their wonderful petty little lives. They do not know what is coming for them. And they have been warned.

Anyways, in the past few days I have set in motion a number of things that will perhaps fundamentally change my life. Finally, after all this time of pondering and wondering, I managed to fill in my application to study another degree this coming September. There were more than ten pages of application forms to be filled in, and a number of motivations to be written.I had been procrastinating and putting the task off, but somehow after I came back from my holidays, I felt such a sudden urge to write the application.

And now it is done! Not only that, I am also applying for scholarships, which will hopefully, hopefully, hopefully be able to cover all my expenses of studying and living. It will be a real adventure if all my plans go through, and I will be able to get a new start to life in another country, and get away from petty little things and people like my brother.

As I was filling in the application forms, I was feeling really giddy and happy with myself. If there is one thing I can do, it is write, and I somehow have a way to write motivation statements that even flatter me. The crisp language, the clear choice of words, the subtle rhyming and smartly structured sentences... I get such a kick out of writing it!

Now, let's hope that whoever will be reading it and assessing my application will be just as, if not even more, impressed as I am.

Summer Space Camp

Me watching the live launch of Russian-built Soyuz rocket lifting off on Friday 14 September!

“It’s not really goodbye, just a ‘See you later’.”

With that I ended my two week stay at space camp in the tiny seaside village of Noordwijk with some forty students from all over Europe. Well, perhaps it wasn’t the same sentiment and feelings I felt towards everyone, but at least there are a select few in the group I have grown fond of, and will miss their company. Just earlier this afternoon, I got a gift and sweet note from three girls. On the note it said:

”If there were many more people in the world, it would be a better place to live in. Please don’t change!”

I was extremely touched by the gesture, and was really, really surprised what effect I could have on people, even in such a short time. I mean, I didn’t do much, and was just myself, but that somehow managed to leave an impression on people. It’s a real boost to my self-confidence!

It’s funny to observe a large group of people, and how people interact. There are those who try very hard and try to impress everyone with their joking and imitations and clowning around, and then there are those who are mostly on their own and so quiet you don’t really notice them. And there are those in between these extremes. The first few days you mingle and try to make friends with everyone, but after a while people group together. Minds flow alike, as they say.

We were all brought together by this course in an obscure but utterly fascinating field of space law, and now two weeks later we go our separate ways. Perhaps some people I’ll never see again, perhaps some people I’ve not really gotten to know well, but I’m glad I’ve managed to make connections with a number I’m sure I’ll “see-you-later”.

It was a pretty hectic and intensive summer course, and I really can’t remember the last time I had so many lectures after one another every single day. Almost 50 in total, from all sorts of speakers, and all crammed into two weeks. Towards the end I was so exhausted and drained that I often dozed off in class. It wasn’t such a great idea to be always sitting at the front, but then again from all my years of studying I’ve managed to develop this technique whereby I nap, but every few minutes or so I nod my head in agreement, make a few ‘Hmm’ noises to express my understanding, or turning the papers in my hands profusely to pretend I’m following very attentively. Take a look at the notes I’ve made, and you’ll see scribbles of lines that just fall off the page which I can’t even understand any more!

Everyday the day starts at sevenish, and by eight we have to be at the bus, ready to ride into the research centre of ESA. It’s literally a different world in there, full of thousands of scientists, policy makes, lawyers, working toward progress and realising the dreams of soaring into space and discovering all that is out there in the universe. Through the two days of lectures we’ve had, I just realised what an unexplored area of the law space law is. All these conventions and regulations dating to the sixties, but so much progress has been made in these decades. The problem of the launching state, liability for accidents, problem of space debris, and just the matter of amending age-old legal instruments seem such political and cumbersome tasks.

But I did enjoy it all very much, especially the team assignment. Even though team work took up every single evening, I really had a lot of laughs working together with all these people from different backgrounds. Our assignment was to think of a creative idea linking ‘entertainment and space’, and focus on the legal, political and other aspects of the project that we write about in a report and present before a jury. We were up until at least midnight every evening, just working, researching and discussing. At times there were conflicts within us, and a number of members didn’t really get along well. One disagreed with everyone, and had to be outvoted before our project idea could move forward. He funny eventually changed from opposing everything to the one who seemed to be doing all the hard work and leading everyone else, even though the rest of us were cursing lowly and confused what he wants to do. I bought drinks and snacks everyday, and tried to make sure there was better harmony between people. And I guess it worked well. Eventually we actually made it to second place. Had we observed the rules of writing a report and presenting the arguments, and not gotten penalised for it, we would have easily been the first! I’m happy with the result, especially when the jury mentioned that the legal part of our report was the best out of all eight competing groups!

There’s this German guy that caught my eye almost from the very first moment. I caught myself looking often in his direction, but he was always hanging around these girls, and I never dared to venture close, and only managed to admire him from afar. Then suddenly on the second day, as we were allowed to have some free time to take some pictures in the ‘high bay’, where all these model space crafts and compartments are, fate kissed me. I was just minding my own business, and this guy told me to go stand in the picture. I didn’t know what was happening, but before it I was pulled into the picture, and standing next to that cute guy. After the picture was taken, we both stood there nervously, and laughed at the surrealness of having been forcibly had our pictures taken. Then he introduced himself, and we struck it off instantly, laughing and joking around, and getting to know one another. He has such boyish features, dark brown semi-curly hair, and a pair of beautiful blue eyes that stared into mine as I talked. He listens so attentive, and responds so intelligently and gently. It’s like finding a match I’ve been longing for. Even on the bus, he sat next to me, and we talked all the way back to the hotel. He was so close, I could feel his knee slightly leaning on mine…

Turns out, he’s not gay after all. I found out playing this ‘psychiatrist game’, and the person who is the psychiatrist has to guess who all the other people are by asking different questions. I was the psychiatrist, and I asked him whether he likes boys or girls. The answer was a little disappointment. I guess he was ust very friendly, and giving out all the wrong signals. But that’s alright, I guess.

Yesterday morning, I carried my suitcase and bagback, and went home really early, alone. But not at all empty-handed.

Space camp

I've been many places, but nothing will compare to the journey I'm about to embark on. Sometime ago, when I was still wondering what to do with my life, a friend suggested I attend a summer course. She said it would take me to places "beyond this world", literally.

So I signed up for Space Camp. It's a two week course organised in Noorwijk, which is a sea-side town containing the site of the European Space Agency's research and technology centre. I only have to pay a bit of registration fee, and the rest of the two weeks is expenses paid, including accommodation. It'll be two weeks of compact lectures and seminars, focusing on space law and space policy. I guess with my background in international law, it helps to be already a little prepared, even though I don't really know anything about what kind of laws and regulations govern space. It'll also be a chance to see so of the technology and things they use in space. Maybe even meet an astronaut or two.

I grew up watching Star Trek, and have always been fascinated by the big, big world beyond this one whenever I look up at the skies. And this will really be a great opportunity.


I really haven't been giving this camp much thought recently, until today or so, because I've just been too busy sorting out my life and future out. I wanted to prepare a bit, and do some background reading, but I guess I'll just have to attend without knowing anything. Which could be a good thing... or terrible!

Funny thing is, I was dreaming last night about camp! I have to share this room with this other guy I never met before. I only know his name and that he is from Austria... and the rest I don't know anything about. In my dream, we were somehow really intimate.... if you know what I mean. That's what happens when you've been single and had no sex for a long, long while~

Onto space camp! To boldly go, where no one in my class has ever gone before!

Graduation

Your personal charm and attractiveness has a positive effect on your career, reputation, or public image. People see you as a loving and lovable person and as someone who is aware of their needs and feelings, which can benefit you at this time. Others are willing to help and cooperate with your aims. Your interest in the arts or in promoting harmony and good will between people is brought out at this time.
Horoscope 31 August 2007

It was exactly a year ago that I started my master's studies, which was supposed to last one year. One year later, I passed all my subjects with good marks, and am more or less able to graduate, if only I could finish my thesis. The good thing in this country is that you can 'study' as long as you want... as long as you don't finish your thesis, you're still 'studying', even though you're not going to classes anymore.

So, with today in mind around a month or so ago, I proposed to our course convener that we should organise a graduation event. Even if people are not yet finished with their studies, we deserve a celebration to mark our year together. We worked hard, were constantly given assignments, and we were good as a group. My lecturer liked my proposal, and went to ask the department whether there is 'room' for a graduation event.

No, no. No money. I was not so much surprised, but just shocked. OK, it's not a tradition for people in the Netherlands to graduate together, because like I mentioned everytime takes their time to finish off their degree. But I'm doing a degree which also has international students, and the department should have at least considered something to bring the class together before we each go our separate ways. Like I told my lecturer it's such basic knowledge that people who are at the end of their studies have some kind of final get-together event... but I don't know whether the department staff is too incompetent or too stingy to even give the idea any thought. I mean, how much is it to organise a small reception? How much effort does it actually take??

However, what gets me even more shocked and upset is that there is another degree in exactly the same subject as my degree that is running parallel to mine. The difference between my degree and that other degree is that the other is (so-called) 'advanced', which in terms of contents is more in-depth. The other difference is that the other degree costs around ten thousand Euros more than mine. In the end, we both have a masters degree in Public International Law.

Ever since the beginning of the year, I've noticed differences in treatment between the two groups. On the first day for example, my group was left to walk around by ourselves in the faculty building, whereas the other group got invited to tea and cake with the lecturers. My group is not allowed to have classes in a new posh building that opened last year, but the other group can (it's the same building I work in, so I guess I'm the exception to the rule). And about the graduation: the other group has a proper graduation attended by VIPs and with proper pompous ceremonies... but my group has to organise our own graduation. This is what I call 'education Apartheid' based on the ability to pay. And it really disgusts me.

No matter. Where there are obstacles in the way, where bureaucracy tries to slow you down and undermine your wishes, you resort to self-help. My proposal to my lecturer was that we organise a 'pot-luck' event! So from the beginning of July till this week, I've been busy arranging for a ceremony of our own. I've mailed around asking my classmates to attend, and have been in contact with my course convener and invited the other department staff to attend. I managed to book a beautiful room at the place I work for this evening (see pictures!!!), and asked people to bring food and drinks so that we can have a wonderful get-together, even without all that pompous and fancy stuff.

Everything seemed to be set, and I was just about to buy the decorations and plastic cups and party hats.... then suddenly four days ago my lecturer mails me saying that the very time that our graduation is taking place coincides with the ceremony of the other group. Which basically means, none of the department staff will attend. My lecturer asked me for suggestions, and I said that perhaps we could merge our event with the official event. That was not allowed, because the room in which the official ceremony is taking place is "too small", and it will be odd to have people from our group there. That was the response.

I was so disappointed, frustrated and a bit bitter. What kind of department is this? Again my doubts and fears of working at the university was confirmed. So much politics, so much power-struggle and pompousness and snobbishness. The discrimination, the inequality in treatment... disgusting. Just disgusting.

All that hardwork, all that planning, and the department doesn't even seem to care at all. My lecturer asked me to reschedule, but I told him frankly that it's pointless and I don't want to. I'm not willing to commit myself to more hassle planning an event that people are not going to show up at. Why should I? I'm a student, and I like all other people pay for education. We pay for service, pay for recognition and respect, but instead we get treated like second-class citizens.

I left work together in the evening. Before I left the building, I walked into the room that was supposed to be the room for our graduation. It was dark, and silently empty. I stood in the room, touched the wooden walls and admired the neatly place tables and chairs, and I imagined.

Imagined what it could have been like to have a proper ceremony, there and then.

Lazy...

I’ve been sleeping most the day today. And not been doing much over the whole of last week. Again, another lazy episode in my life, even though I know that the deadline of my thesis is looming near. In the back of my mind I’m thinking to myself I’m lazy now, but when it comes to the day or night before the deadline I’ll be kicking myself and regretting how I spent all those days doing nothing. It’s always like this!

Just heard from my mum that she’s planning to visit next month. It’s all very sudden, and of course I’m happy to see her again. She told me how she really needs a break from her tiring job, and also partly (I’m guessing) to get away from living with my dad.

It’ll be good that she’s coming in September, because (hopefully!) I’ll be able to graduate then and be able to share the experience with her. Even though in this country we don’t have any official ceremony or celebration, it’s still a special day, and my parents have never been to any of my graduation yet.

To be honest, I’m a little ashamed. I’m about to graduate, but I don’t have anything waiting for me. Most of my friends are already planning to move on to the next study, or to do an internship somewhere, or starting to work… but I’m still here wondering what to do and how to support myself next year.

But my mum told me not to worry over the phone. She said whatever I decide to do, and wherever I decide to go, she’ll be there to support me.

I heard that, and felt like crying…

Why can’t I be independent yet? Why can’t I go out there and get a job to support myself yet? Why can’t I decide what I want to do in life and just settle somewhere and stop having to rely on my parents? Am I really that useless? Or just lazy?

She said I shouldn’t worry too much, and that she’d do anything because I’m her son. She kept on encouraging me, telling me not to give up, not to feel upset that I didn’t manage to get the dream job I wanted at the European Commission.

She told me to just try, and keep on trying. Get an internship somewhere for a few months… get some experience and prepare myself for the job market… even if the internship is not paid. None of them are paid, but they are like a full-time job, which means there’s no time to get another part-time paying job. But without experience, I’m nothing with just a degree from university! Frustrating…

Mum said she has planned it all, and it’ll be alright…

But it’s not alright… I feel so guilty!

Work, work, work!

I really should be working, but I feel restless and wanting to go out all the time.

I remember telling myself on the train journey back home that I'd had enough relaxation and fun for two weeks, and that it was time to get back to work. I did get back to work, but 'work work', which I officially started last week, and not any school work! So one day came, and went, and another, came and went, and another. Already one week after I returned, and I've not done anything at all on my thesis. The last save date of my writings on my computer was exactly one month ago!

Feeling somehow very little motivation to work on the thesis, even though I know I must get a move on. Instead, I've just been distracting myself and telling myself there's always tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow. Frustrating.

I go to the office every single day, and I'd rather be doing my office work than my school work... So I've been busy doing the kind of things that interns do, and most of all building this great new website for my office. It's pretty exciting stuff, and I could just spend hours fidgeting this and that to perfect the site, or do other errands that they ask me to do. I guess my colleagues are impressed with me, and the way I work so efficiently and quickly... but oh how I wish I could put the same amount of effort into thesis writing!

And after an eight-hour day at work, you just want to unwind and not think of anything else. I thought to myself I could still get myself to read and write stuff for my thesis, but when I get home I'm just so tired, that I want to sleep.

Funny though, because when I see the sunset outside my window, all that tiredness goes away, and all I want to do is cycle to the beach and walk around for hours and hours. Hours I could have spent writing and working on my thesis! But instead, I spend them, watching the waves, admiring the clouds, and bidding farewell to the shy setting sun...

Final exam

Everyone looked so defeated and sad after the three hours. In everyone's eyes was the hazy look you get when you don't sleep enough (if at all!) We stood in the hollow hallway of the biggest church, and to my dread some started to talk and ask about what the answer was to this or that question. Probably the last thing I want to think about after a long and tiring exam.

Only managed to sleep one hour last night, the rest of the time I was sick and still trying to study, hoping to jam whatever information I can into my already overloaded and depressed memory bank. The more I studied, the more upset and desparate I got, and started getting really moody, as if everything was so wrong. Felt really terrible...

Glad that all that is over. But it didn't end with the exam. Straight after I had to rush to work, and finish off some chores before I take a small break away from life and everything tomorrow. Hundreds of mailing had to be posted, and I spent a good hour or so stamping and sticking and running up and down to the post office. As if I wasn't exhausted enough already.

Also had to do some last minute shopping, especially for decorations for my godson's first birthday party. So spent some time wandering around the stores searching for the perfect card and lovely balloons and strings to hang. Things that could go wrong seemed to, and when you're already cranky from lack of sleep and so exhausted the world seemed to just now cooperate. Almost go ran over by a cyclist speeding on the pavement... missed the bus, so had to walk and wait for almost half an hour... nearly tripped and crashed into a shelf full of porcelain... hurt myself on the knee with a low bookshelf, which is still hurting... I must have had the most disgusted and horrible look on my face today.

It's been a long, long few months... with mostly downs and so many frustrations surrounding work and studies. In the beginning you think to yourself that things will get better, but the downward spiral of depression catches you and pulls you in. Binge eating and over-sleeping are the symptoms... lack of enthousiasm and this indescribably sense of longing for something (but not sure what) are almost a constant... my career prospects don't seem to have any prospects at all.... And added to this I feel more and more irritated about having to share a house with people who dump everything everywhere.

So I really need, and to some extend perhaps even deserve, a break. Break from it all, break from life, work, and home. A change of scenery always helps to lift the spirit and mind. And most of all, I'll see my special little baby boy again, the baby boy who is turning one, the baby boy who has so often given me so many smiles and heart-warmth just by being who he is.

All change.

Walk

It probably wasn't such a good idea to walk around in the rain, especially when my throat is aching and I feel a cold coming. But I needed it.

With an exam looming tomorrow, I've been feeling pretty down and low, again. All the motivation and energy seemed to have been drained out of me, and instead of getting down to do some studying, I've been sleeping and sleeping. Not that I'm tired or so, but seems like sleeping could take away the days and waking moments.

The weather's not been too kind either. Low-lying clouds, rain and wind. I know that it's the very last exam, but still there's nothing to motivate me onwards. Seems like whatever I read, the words go through me and I forget instantly... worse is I don't really have a clue what we're expected to know from the huge book we've been given to revise. It's as if I couldn't really care less, even though it's so important...

I think it started around a month ago, because of another course I was doing. A group of us had worked so hard and so long on producing a memorial and arguing in front of a mock court. We were so committed and dedicated, had great arguments and performed well in our presentations. Our written arguments was around 50 pages in total, and extremely professionally done. Yet we got this incompetent and extremely frigid teacher who assessed our work. We ended up with a disappointing mark, even though compared to so many others we really worked together as a team and had all our arguments well thought out and consistently presented.

I didn't think it would affect me this much, but it really has. We spoke to our course coordinator, but basically he said there's nothing much that can be done. But the damage has been done, and all of us feel so deflated and discouraged from the whole experience. It's as if saying hardwork means nothing at all, whereas people who just throw anything on paper get similar grades. Why bother trying if this is the result we're going to get? Throughout the whole year I've been quite satisfied with the course so far... but because of this, and a lot of other petty little things that's been accumulating, I'm really feeling angry and bitter towards this entire masters programme, and the whole university.

It took a walk in the rain to get this out of me. I'll be so glad when this whole fiasco is all over.

Tired

I think I've been exhausting myself too much, and feeling the stress slowly creep in and get a hold of me. Last night I lay in bed but couldn't sleep for hours and hours, until it was almost morning. When I finally managed to sleep, it wasn't long before the alarm went and I had to go off to uni.

One more week before my final exam. After that I'll be completely done with my classes for the entire masters programme. I really want to do well, but have been so preoccupied and stressed about my thesis that I've barely even started to study. I've been spending the last week or so just reading and researching for my thesis, but it seems like the more I read, the more lost I get. Was supposed to write up something for my supervisor to read by yesterday, but all I have is around 10,000 words of my typed notes, but nothing concrete that I can show. And I feel pretty guilty, since I had promised I'd give my supervisor something to read, and I really want to make a good impression.

I've decided not to think about the thesis any more, at least for a whole, and just focus on my exam. Problem is this last course is so... boring. Usually I enjoy classes, and pay attention and do the reading and work throughout the year, but this particular one just puts me off. It must be because of that big brick of a 1500+page book that is on the table collecting dust. Just wish it could all be over soon...

As if I don't already have enough on my mind, my brother's been nagging at me to go with him to see the car he wants to buy. I told him that it's really his choice, and that I don't need to be there, but every single day he keeps on asking. So finally today I took a few hours to go do the test drive. It's a pretty amazing car, really flashy from the outside, and a unique shiny brownish-gray colour. The inside is so streamlined and slick-black, with computerised displays and speedometer, and all the essential gadgets and accessories. It's almost brand new, only got a thousand or so kilometers, and has been only used by the car dealer for test drives. Which means the price can be lowered than a completely brand new one.... but still, it's very expensive, and definitely going to be a burden on his finances. I didn't say much, because I've already said what I needed to say. I had already told him that he should buy a car he can afford by himself, and that he shouldn't have to borrow from my mum. But that didn't seem to be important. Not any more, or at least not as important as owning a big, brand new car. I knew whatever I say wouldn't make a difference, because he's already had his eyes and mind set. Me being there was just a formality.

He was so excited, like a little boy getting the toy he's been looking at for a long time and finally has it in his hands. Within an hour documents were signed, and the car will be his coming weekend. I guess I'm happy for him in a way... since it's been his dream ever since he started working, and I'm glad that I'll no longer have to hear about cars, cars, cars again.

But I wondered to myself how long the flashy, new car will have its shine, and how long it will be until he starts to see it as 'just a car', and not as something that's so new and exciting... I guess it's only human that we crave for something so much, and when we finally get it we feel satisfied... but only temporarily. That's what I mean by when he'll start to see it as 'just a car'...

Lazy days

Not sure why, but suddenly have become so tired...

Went to bed 'early' last night, at around eleven, and got up to go to school. Had an appointment with my thesis supervisor, which went pretty well. He's really nice, and we sat down together for half an hour to go through my ideas. Even before I arrived, he had already jotted down lots of useful notes on my proposal, and given me a list of literature I to look at. My topic, on the values of the (so-called) international community, appears to be related to the PhD thesis he's working on, so he really seems to be the right person to be supervising it.

My basic ideas are to question whether there is such a thing as 'international community' in reality... and if there is, what the the values of this community are. There's so much talk and use of the term, and some legal terminology refer to the 'international community', but what is this community composed of? States alone, or something more encompassing, like individuals, NGOs, TNCs? Especially on human rights, we hear a lot about how the "international community" views them as a common fundamental value, and has time and again repeated the commitment to protect human rights for the sake of defending this "international community". But is this mere rhetoric, or something grounded in law as well as reality?

Anyways, perhaps it's because of these mind-boggling ideas, afterwards I felt so exhausted. Sat in the library for a few hours, but didn't get any work done at all. The sunny weather outside didn't help, and my mind kept on wanting to go out. So I did.


I made my way home slowly, even managing to doze on the short fifteen minute train journey. Once I got home, around 4pm or so, I collapsed into bed. Had set my alarm for around 5, but everytime it ran, I pressed snooze, snooze, snooze...

It was one of those sleeps you keep on waking up from, and then fall half asleep, only to wake up in what feels like only moments later, when an hour or so had in fact passed. Usually I have the radio on when I take a little nap in the afternoon, and between periods of half-sleep and awakedness I'd hear bits and pieces of the latest news... Israeli prime minister Olmert refusing to step down... Polish workers 'flooding' into the Netherlands after the lifting of border restrictions... lawsuit against ABN Amro because of its merger with Barclays... three week old Royal Princess Ariane taken up in hospital... And rather unsually I started to dream as well... unpleasant dreams, about this piece of assignment I had to hand in last week.

When I decided I couldn't go on sleeping any more, which was around the same time as when my stomach kept on kicking, it was almost nine.

Summery days

Sitting at home, the sun is shining brightly outside, like a beautiful day in summer.
Just wondering what to do...

The past month or so has been probably the busiest I can remember. First were assignments I needed to finish, then came the big moot competition, which kept me basically occupied for a good week or so. And immediately after the competition, I had my own moot court to prepare for, which meant another week or so of working almost non-stop to rush to finish a 15000 word memorial together with two other girls from my class. Endless, it seemed. Dead tired, it really was. And to add to that, I managed to kill an innocent snail the other day, while being in a state of complete and utter exhaustion...

But suddenly, it all finished. Leaving me a little empty inside, and wonder what to do. I know I should probably start thinking about the exam in a month's time, or even start working on the thesis due by the end of Summer... but I think I deserve a little break.

Even though it was busy, it was definitely worth every moment of it. The moot court competition took place successfully, and perhaps because I was so good, my boss offered me a position to work on through the summer! Just as I was thinking and worrying about what I'd do, and where I could find a job, it came all so unexpextedly. It's just two days a week, but it's paid, and involves basic management of the office I've been working for in the past few months since September. It's perfect, since it'll give me the flexibility to combine with my thesis writing... and also will be a financial boost to my plans to take a Euro-rail trip with some friends : )

As for the project I was working on with two girls, it went extremely well, especially given the short time we had to complete it in. We were given a fictional case about the fumigation of coca crops to argue, which involved Ecuador taking a case against Colombia before the ICJ for breaches of international law. We were the applicants (suing!) and our claim is that Colombia's plans to eradicate coca crops does damage to human life and the environment, and also harms our State.

For one whole week, we worked on it constantly, to the extend that we started to dream about the case itself in the few hours of luxury we had to sleep. It was probably the best team work I've ever had, as we were all so dedicated and willing to work together and to make sure that the final product is clear and coherent. Of course, cups after cups of tea, cartons and cartons of cigarettes (but not for me!!!), and bags and bags of chips and chocolates and biscuits helped to prolong our ability to go on until the early hours of the morning day after day... And because my defences were down, I caught a nasty cough and felt somewhat miserable throughout the week.

On Tuesday past, we submitted the memorial, and dressed up to plead in 'court'. I wanted a little group hug before we all went on stage, but it was a little embarrasing so we ended up shaking hands. And we awed the audience and the judges with our pleadings. We answered the questions that were bombarded at us with respect and which even made our judges impressed. As I stood there, before this mock court and before the watching eyes of my class, I felt so unbelievably confident. Whatever questions that were thrown at me, whatever objections were fired against my arguments, I (and the others of course) deflected them in grace and style. All the while, I kept that smile on my face, which someone had remarked charmed the audience.

Afterwards, we toasted and drank to our success. Even though our eyes were red from lack of sleep (and my throat still aching, while my conscience was still fragile from having killed another living being...) we celebrated at night away, sitting in the garden, watching a DVD, munching on more junk food and chocolates and pizza, filling ourselves with white wine...

We went our separate ways, again at 3am, but realising we were so much closer together.

"Oh, my god... I killed something"

Stepping into the frigid night air at 3am, I heard a crunching sound. I was dizzy, delerious, and exhausted like I never felt before from the constant writing, meetings and researching over the last seven days or so, but the sound coming from under my shoe shook me awake.

I knew it wasn't good, and suspected what I had just done. I looked down, and confirmed that I had just crushed a snail to bits, and saw the slimy liquid reflect in the dim street light. "Oh my god... I killed something!"

I kept on apologising to the snail, even though it probably was no longer conscious.... or worse, already dead. More than 12 hours of working on a big project due tomorrow with my classmates did not make me feel less guilty about what I did. Which is strange, since a moment before I was so tired I couldn;t think of anything else but bed...

I really need to get some sleep before the big presentation tomorrow... but I'll be thinking of the snail I just killed, and hope it will now and forever rest in piece(s).

PIL Day Out

(PIL: Public International Law)

Cheeks chapped and red from the early Spring sun, and winds that never seemed to be with us, but always against us. Bones sore, and muscles aching from the overdose of exercise.

What was a sudden ‘Schnapsidee’ to get together for Easter in the end it turned into some forty kilometres and almost eight hours of non-stop cycling and hiking. More torturous for the others (especially the hunter-gatherer guys amongst us), since the rented lady bikes had no handbrakes and only one gear. Trying to keep up with my tendency of racing whenever I hop on a bike was perhaps hard enough, but the wind and the countless ‘mountains’ we had to conquer along the way made the leisurely ‘PIL Day Out’ a real ordeal. But divided we are weak, and today we proved to ourselves that advanced and regular together we can ‘Climb every mountain, ford every stream, search high and low".

Every journey begins with a big brunch, and we stuffed on the tones of eggs, chocolates, all sorts of warm bread and cold juices. Calories and any excess body weight gained attributable to me could be burnt later, I reassured. Soon enough we were on our bikes and hogging the inner lanes of the cross-country bicycle highways with our turtle speeds. The legendary PIL Tour had begun.

Being devout loyalists of the monarchy and so grateful for the fact that some great-, great-, great-, great-, ancestor of the Queen had decided to lay the foundations of what is to be The Hague as his hunting ground, we of course had to pay her a visit. We stood before the gates of ‘Huis ten Bosch’, only to be disappointed that the Queen was not in and had apparently forgotten our afternoon tea appointment. No matter, as we counseled ourselves with the fact that we were mere metres to the very building (though perhaps then not yet inviolable) where the Hague Peace Conferences took place.

Onwards we went, in search of our future residences in the luxurious and wooded neighbourhoods of Wassenaar. Translated literally, it would mean ‘to wash-strange’. Perhaps that’s why so many ‘stinking rich’ people love to live in what is the most exclusive area of the Netherlands. Enormous free-standing mansions with tennis courts and swimming pools rolled by, some big, lavish-looking cottages to house the gatekeeper at the beginning of what was more a tree-line avenue than an ordinary drive-way. Shame, the mansion opposite the residence of the Canadian ambassador I had my eyes was just been sold. “One day…”

We amused ourselves watching family dramas unfold from the top of what may have been the second highest hill in the country. We could see the scenic electric pylons in the distance, watch the occasional yellow trains fly past, and admire a certain talented football-players-to-be tackle at everyone and everything except the ball. Then it was through the dunes we went, braving the steep gradients and treacherous uneven cycle-paths that led us closer and closer to where the salted-sea breeze blew and lured. Finally, after expending all that energy and effort which made the rush to finish a paper the night before the deadline seem like a stroll in the park, the wide-open sea lay there waiting lazily before us. As did the ice-cream and ‘poffertjes’ (wo)man.

We sat down to coffee, tea and mediocre service. Though the weather was fine, and the water ‘lovely’, we enthralled ourselves with deep and revolutionary debates about the virtues and evils of nature vs. nurture, feminism, bio-power, identity, and why (to be politically correct, some) girls always seem to go the bathroom together.

On we rode on our metal horses, encountering magpies, a lone pheasant, and plumb pigeons, swarms of “killer, blood-sucking” mosquitoes, and realised the true meaning behind “doing it like rabbits”. We stopped once or twice to climb up to lookout points to take in the skyline and argued amongst ourselves which spire belongs to our beloved and revered Peace Palace. Posing like the inquisitive PIL-students we are, we looked on with philosophical glimmers in our eyes, in search of the horizon.

After numerous “Another fifteen minutes…” from me, we finally got to the fish restaurant at Scheveningen. We were all starving, and drained, our knees weak, faces sober like we just walked out of an exam we failed. The wonderful Dutch hospitality and service never ceased to amaze, but the food was pretty decent overall. All save for the tortured look of three twisted fish heads and hollowed corpses at the end.

Being diligent and proud PIL-students, we could not but pay homage to our place of worship. We cycled through the night, braving the black forests of Schevenigen which are rumoured to have countless sex-addicts lurking around after dark (sorry I didn’t tell you this then!), and with held breaths arrived at the Peace Palace. Easter Sunday, the sun had long set, it was close to ten at night, but we stood almost banging at the gates of the holy sanctuary of international law. In the end we satisfied ourselves with numerous shots of the another moment to remember in the years to come. We may be on lady’s bikes, and some of us may not even have backlights, but made a solemn vow to ourselves that we will one day return in all the glamour and glitz we could possibly muster. Next week, dus, for Telders.

What a day... what a great PIL Day Out!

First day of Spring

It was officially the first day of Spring yesterday. Hail, rain, gusts of storm-force winds. For some reason the weather turned, and it suddenly became so very, very cold.

Been kept occupied in the last few days by a number of papers I've got to hand in for school. Just completed two in the last week, and am about to start another one, which will be the final one of my entire studies, or at least that's what I think... Seems like I've been writing and reading non-stop in the last few days, to the point I literally feel faint! But I guess it pays off, and I'm kind of proud of what I've managed to written. With around a month or so of classes left to go, I'll be more or less finished with my whole course... except for that thesis I have to complete by the end of Summer. Sometimes I can't believe it's almost the end... when it seems like it only started yesterday.

Not much interesting's been happening lately... The other day was my brother's girlfriend's birthday, and I woke up especially early on a Saturday to bake a cake. I had bought some flowers and hidden them in my room, and waited till she woke up to give her the surprise. Well, she wasn't all that enthousiastic for some reason, and the cake was only half eaten... and I know for a fact I took a bit part of that half. So the strawberry-flavoured cheese cake with rasberries on top lay in the kitchen for four days... I haven't been home to have dinner much this week, and only this morning did I discover that the cake had actually gone mouldy.


It hurt somewhat, and I felt a little insulted too. I went through the trouble to buy ingredients, (and fresh rasberries are pretty expensive this time of the year!!), and hide it all, and then make it so early in the morning... I remembered promising myself I'd never do anything nice again... but then this afternoon I received the two tickets I had bought online for them to go see this famous beautiful flower garden that just opened.

I gave the tickets to them anyways... I just can't stay angry at people for very long.

Monday morning

Woke up at 8.08am this morning. In order to get on the train and be in class at 9, I usually have to leave at 8.10.

"Oh, sh*t!" I thought to myself as I read my watch. The sun was already up and bright, but I was feeling pretty miserable for having such a wonderful start to Monday morning. Within 10 minutes, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, tried to get my hair in order ( realising again that it was a bad idea to shower and then go to bed...), got dressed, and got on my bike. I cycled as fast as I could, but it was exactly those moments when you're in a hurry things get in the way to slow you even more. Traffic lights, slow cyclists, cars...

I missed my regular train, but thankfully there was a slow train a couple of minutes afterwards, which would get me into Leiden (where I study) a little before 9. I ran and skipped through the streets, and managed to complete a walk that would normally take 20 minutes in around 10. Sweaty, hungry, out of breath I got into class, ten past nine. We have this unspoken rule at the university, the so-called 'Leiden quarter' (Leids kwartier)... usually classes don't officially start until a quarter past the hour, so I was technically still on time.

It was a slow and boring class, even more so because the weather, in what seemed like the first day of spring, was so lovely outside. The lecturer asked questions from the 150+pages of readings we had to read to prepare for class, but nobody seemed to have read anything... because frankly the text is so tedious and technical that you'd have to read two, three times to understand. A grueling two hours, and class was finally dismissed.

Almost the rest of the day I spent in the library, working on this paper due for next week. The topic is up to us to decide, as long as it's related to a theme of international law. In my undergrad studies I had come across criticism of international law as Eurocentric and as something simply forced upon the rest of the world. And more recently I came across literature about how international law was used in the 19th Century to justify colonisation and imperialism under the banner of 'humanity' and 'civilisation'... so obvious, with my flair and attraction for the critical, this was what I chose my topic to write about. There's more and more talk of liberalism's virtues of human rights, democratic governance, rule of law, and more and more you see certain states preaching these idea(l)s, or even setting these conditions for other states if they want to be accepted as a member of the (so-called) 'international community'. Well, it occured to me that perhaps today we are not that far away from the slogans of 'humanity' and 'civilisation' as we presume to be... that perhaps today international law is not something that can be applied universally because it appears to be so neutral and so accepted by all. So in my paper I'm going to try to draw the links between 'civilisation' then, and liberalism now, and how through time and different contexts, the (neo)colonial tendencies and inequalities of the international system have not shifted away from the hegemony of the few over the many. Fascinating, mind-boggling stuff... at least I find! :)

Anyways, after sitting in the library reading (and getting distracted by cute people walking around...), I took a break and went to see an old colleague of mine. We've not seen each other for almost a whole year, since she's been on fieldtrip to a far, far away land called Angola. It was like old times, we sat down to dinner, and two hours later were still sitting there, leaving only because the waitresses were wiping the tables around us in a subtle sign telling us to go. She's one of the few close friends with whom I can talk to about anything and everything. We chatted,I told her about my (love-less) life, family, studies, my disgust of bourgeois pretences like the gala I attended sometime ago... and she told me about her adventures in the 'bushes', about being phone-tapped (possibly followed), and the extremes of poverty and super-rich-dom in Angola.

I cycled home, not in a hurry like I was while leaving home his morning, and admired the beautiful stars on this wonderful, calm evening.

Values and interests

They say there is law that applies everywhere, because the law is the law, and is supposed to mean the same to everyone, no matter where. The law is certain, black and white, and protects the weak against the strong.

And there are values... idea(l)s, perhaps, that certain people (or states) cherish that should be protected and developed because it is seen as necessarily 'good', indisputably 'moral' and 'just'. Contrast this with interests... a self-motivation which everyone (and every state) tries to pursue so that they benefit most, and mostly at the expense of others. It is these values and interests which often makes the law appear more like a tool for those who are willing and able to (ab)use it to their own ends.

In the last couple of days I've come across two things that have made me, more than ever, more skeptical about the 'nieceties' of law, especially the interantional kind, which we lone human beings are almost powerless to influence, yet which affects us all in so many, many ways. One was some of the readings I've had to read about the so-called 'universal' human rights, and the other was a lecture I attended last night, given by an influential (and refreshingly critical) international lawyer from the University of London.

Why is international law so influential? Because through the countless number of international, multinational, bilateral and multilateral treaties and agreements there are, our lives are being regulated, to a large extent also protected, but to some extent also limited. Our fundamental rights and freedoms to life, to speech, to work and to found a family are subscribed by international law... as are our responsibilities should we commit certain heinous crimes like torture or genoicide. The environment, and how to save it from further deterioation and certain extinction, is governed by numerous agreements to cut greenhouse gases, to stop mining, overfishing, and to promote so-called 'sustainable development'. The global economic and capitalist network composed of markets, media and coporations is held in place by a complex regime of free trade and flow of goods and people. And international law regulates war and peace, it says that certain behaviour like aggression will not be tolerated, and international law has set in place security arrangements to ensure that 'aggressors' are dealt with under the banner of 'collective peace and security'. And if there is to be war and conflict, international law underwrites the standards of what you can and cannot do in armed conflict, and provides the bare minimum amount of protection for civilians and property.

Yet... international law is made predominantly by states, and the skeptic, like me, would say mostly by states which are big and powerful. How fair is it that certain states are able to sit in the Security Council just because they were 'winners' from a world war sixty years ago and wield almost unchecked authority over world affairs, and be armed with the veto power if certain events or decisions don't suit their interests? How just is it that certain states are able to wage war against whomever they see fit, supposedly in the name of promoting freedom and democracy, but actually pursuing and protecting their economic and geopolitical interests? How is it that certain states claim the right to preach and champion certain values, and if necessary take action to 'intervene' to make all other states a mould of themselves? And how can transnational corporations, many as influential and affluent as states, control and monopolise so much of the world's wealth and production, while so many countless are left out of the most basic resources for survival, let alone the benefits of the supposed progress and comforts that the age of post-modernity is to usher in?

There is much talk of principles and idea(l)s like the "international community", "democracy", "perpetual peace", "global prosperity"... but in truth the world is any thing but a community, anything but democratic, while peace and prosperity are reserved for the few lucky enough
to have been born in the Western/Northern hemisphere. True, much progress has been made because of an ever closer cooperation between states and peoples the world over, in the area of combating disease, scientific advancements, cultural exchange and political goodwill. Yet, behind these apparent successes lie the reality that the international system as a whole, and the international legal order in particular, is appalingly predjudiced and shockingly fragile to the manipulation by the few at the expense of the many.

I don't want to pinpoint certain states and people for all the faults...I don't want to criticise for the sake of criticising, but in truth, from a historical point of view, the 'west', embodied firstly by Europe alone, later by the United States together with Europe, and now more or less by the US alone, has been most focal in championing the concept of 'the international'. The ages of discovery, empires, slavery and trade, and the late age of colonialisation led to the expansion of 'western' ideas and influences to those places and people deemed savage and god-less. Religion, under Christianity, was used as a 'civilising' mechanism to convert natives into subjects sharing similar, if not same, ideologies, while trade, under trading companies, was used as a 'marketising' tool to transform natives into consumers to satisfy the unsatiable market of production and consumption. And laws, exported and implemented wholesale, were used to legitimise imperial rule, to justify territorial acquisitions and defend against local rebellions. The international was thus first a result of the European (and later America) going beyond their own continents; a direct result of the 'west's' infusion of markets, power, culture and guns into the rest of the world's territories and populations.

Thus we have the idea of the 'civilised nations', originally coined in the age of colonisation, as a way to distinguish European states and peoples from the 'rest'. The idea developed into 'international community', through the League of Nations and United Nations frameworks, under which supposedly all states enjoy sovereign equality and dignity. Though the decolonisation of the 1960s and 1970s changed the balance of power, as well as voting behaviour and direction of the 'international community', the established order of powerful (winner) states is still unbroken. 'Civilisation' turned into something home-grown and cultivated as a result of the 'west's' shared history of ideological, social, economic and political developments from the age of Enlightenment to the liberitarian and Industrial Revolutions. Today, talk of 'civilisation' is frowned upon, and mention of its clash is discredited. Yet, other slogans and notions are used in its stead, notions like 'democracy', 'human rights', 'rule of law', and 'good governance'.

As virtuous as desirable as they are, and I do agree they are the next best alternative to the worst excesses of tyranny, these idea(l)s are far from being neutral and universal. If anything, 'democracy' and all the other catch phrases, are being used as yardsticks by the 'west' to measure other states against, as a means to classify, justify, divide and rule the world, as they did centuries ago. Speak of alternatives, act in the alternative, and the policing actions of sanctions, isolation, and worse, military force, strike down hard on any one or any state that dares to differ. 'Good' and 'evil', 'us' and 'them', 'friend' and 'foe'... all so simple, simplified and all so black and white. Either you are for, or against the new world order. For there is no other alternative, no middle way.

It makes someone like me, who has been studying and working and hoping for a better world in a better tomorrow, disappointed. Really, really disappointed.

I was falling alseep in class today, trying to keep my eyes open and look like I'm awake. I don't know why I'm so tired, even though I slept pretty ok last night in my own bed for the first time in two weeks.

Originally I had planned to stay the whole day in the library to finish off the paper due tomorrow, but I just couldn't. So I grabbed my bag and headed home, all along the way, looking forward to that moment I jump under the blankets and take a good, relaxing sleep.

Almost three hours I slept... not completely sound, as I kept on having these short and intense dreams... one with me floating and drifting over a beach, one of me at a party and not enjoying myself at all... the others I can't remember, but they weren't really that pleasant...

And now dozens of articles to read and a paper to write...