England, you strange place.

I've never felt so miserable in any place before as here in England, my new place of living.
On purpose I don't write 'home' because it's simply not (yet).

1.
This day is messed up, it started with me staring into the gray sky and noticing the familiar scratching in my throat and the even more familiar lethargy.
I got up, showered, made coffee as every morning, switched on my Laptop and spent way too many hours in front of its screen. (A day passed me by)
When I finally noticed that I really wanted to go to town to at least feel a bit like part of the world and maybe buy yet another nice and cheap sweater at a Charity shop & a notebook for my creative writing class, I realized that it was too late because all shops were just about to close.

2.
My feet walked me out of the door anyway and lead me once around the block in a ridicilously perfect square.
I thought, okay, at least get some fresh air, at least that.
But already after 5 steps or so tears shot into my eyes and I walked as fast as I could to be back indoors quick so that no one would get to see my sad facade.

3.
I have lots of reading to do for Monday, Tuesday and Thursday, but I only read one tiny short story for my creative class that is absolutely the least important thing to be reading. Cool.
I panick about not being able to take in all that stuf about the history of America and feel stupid because all those 18 year olds know so much more than I do.

4.
As soon as I arrived in my room after the walk I broke down crying, thinking that this is all so wrong (like: everything everything!) and that I'm probably the uncoolest and most fragile I've ever been in my entire life so far and believe me, I've BEEN uncool and fragile an awful lot of times.

5.
Vienna Vienna Vienna. I try so hard to tear that image out of my head, the one of the life I could have truely had, that little cute room in that amazing flat, my dream dog, loads of promotion jobs (which in total just means: money for once), stunning people I care about & just the city I love most, surrounding me always. I miss it with every cell of my body, of my heart and mind.

6.
When my keys stuck in the lock and turned and I stood in our house again, for the first time since I arrived here I didn't just think that it felt wrong but that in fact I might give it up entirely, this whole tiresome England experiment.
Because I can't remember a day I haven't cried here and I need it to feel better now.

7.
My best friend told me to just hold on, hold on until I don't need to anymore, until it feels better eventually, and I know she's right and I want to be capable of that, but right now I dunno how and even why. (of course I know why)
What if this just isn't my cup of tea?
I don't even like the british accents, any of them.
(I KNOW I am silly.)

8.
Recently when I talked to my mom and whined about how I'm doing here, saying that I don't even like being in England, she said
"Well..but then why did you CHOOSE to move to England? Nobody forced you to."

That made me so sad. I just don't make sense.
The answer should have been:
Because I hope(d) I can live my potential here.
Because I hope I can prove something to myself.
Because it's an adventure.
Because I get to speak english constantly.
And so on and so on.

Or maybe the answer simply is:
Because I fuck up.
Because I tend to do what scares me most and then regret it.

9.
My blanket cover suggests harmony. Flowers everywhere. Good try.
My wooden floor looks nice.
I think I stink. It's that fear sweat.
That's a safe sign of knowing, I must transform:
My whole attitude towards my present life.

Or leave England.