Some thoughts on my feelings

Something I'm really good at is being nostalgic. Recently I've started to realize that there are far fewer days ahead of me in this city than behind me. This has made me start pondering my first strange krasnoyarsk days.

I was living in the dormitory, and when I first got here I spent most of my time in my room listening to Middlesex. I had no internet, almost no acquaintances, and nothing to do. I ate a lot of mushrooms I bought from old ladies on the street until one day I had a stomach ache and lost my appetite for mushrooms. I had a lot of dreams in which I died, and dreams in which I said goodbye to my parents and close friends over and over and over again.

The first night I slept in the apartment I live in now, my neighbors above were having their weekly Monday night rager. Their conversations were so loud I dreamed that they climbed into my apartment through the balcony and were sitting in my room laughing at me in my sleep.

I kept finding various maladies that convinced me I was deathly ill. Like I took a bath and decided my thigh looked purple. And one day I woke up and my knees hurt so much I could hardly walk. It was really weird, but it didn't last very long. It did, however, convince me my body was falling apart.

I guess remembering my weird feelings is a strange form of nostalgia, but still, I look back on those hazy days of the past fondly.

I've gotten quite used to this place, and it seems like I came here so long ago. I think since I've been here they have even built a new smoke stack next to the other smoke stacks I can see from my apartment.