i'm a little Frankenstein

Yep, this is a strange one. Today I cheked out an older blog because a friend of mine reminded me of it. It was called me and my monkey and it was in romanian. Fair enough. And I was about to tell this friend that I have another blog now, and give him the nick and all, but I didn't do it because I was thinking- well, this one is in English, and he will make fun of me BIG TIME if he sees that.
So, fuck. Why am I writing in english? It came so natural when I made this blog, and it still is so natural, but, I mean, why the fuck am I writing in English?
I guess I'm feeling better this way. Estranged. You know, sometimes even my language seems messy and non-ok. So I guess this is happening to me, this story that you see in movies, or you read about as an interesting psychological phenomenon- the feeling of estrangement and the need to leave your country. The lack of love for your country. Sometimes the despise for your contry. The pity- really, the decorations for Christmas this year are sooooo pityful, so poor, so sad, like a duty someone had to do, the mayor or so, like a- oh, well, it's Christmas, let's put the fuckin' lights on, and the lights are (surprise, surprise!) blue and with white stars, like the E.U. flag. Brilliant. Super. Great.
I don't know. I wasn't like that some time ago, but now I think I'm just tired of not getting enough from here, of the constant mood I was also talking about in previous posts, of the I-don't-know-what that floats upon these people.
And here is the answer for my writing in english, I guess. This is the answer. English makes me feel protected. I'm an immigrant-to-be. I'm a fuckin Frankenstein now, in continuous transfomation. I don't recognize my old values, I don't know my new ones, I look at my past, and my friends, like they are someone I will leave soon, but at the same time I'm not sure of it, because all these may be a post NY/London/Wiesbaden trauma, as it is when you come back and it's hard to get used to things. Sometimes I feel that things here just don't ever change. My friends are just the same, my family is just the same, everything moving so slowly, and everybody like- not knowing what the fuck they really want. I don't either. But I try to find out. I really want to make THAT difference. Between you do what you do and you choose what you do.
The rehearsals will be over soon. I got a bit tired and messy and I felt that yesterday it wasn't such a great thing happening on the stage, and I also feel that this show will be kind of long, but then again I've never seen a run trough, whch is really important. It will be ready on the 16th of December.
Well...
And I'll go now to figure out what I have to do next.
Bye.