I'll open this posting with an old cliche: "I can't believe how fast the time flies." There's exactly 6 days left until I go home. I never thought I would say this but I'm beginning to have mixed feelings.
Naturally I thought I would be very thrilled and happy to go home but for some inexplicable reasons, there are some parts of me that want to linger here a little bit longer. I even thought of wanting to stay here later in upper years... but I'll have to see how my mind wanders later on.
It makes me sad to think I won't be able to go to London for the weekend or plan trips with my friends to exotic destinations. I guess I'll have to take comfort from the fact that I've finally been to Paris, the city of my dreams and fantasies.
No more small classes, a castle in the middle of nowhere, sheeps bleeting outside, ducks disturbing lectures... even the castle food, which I always call horrible and barely edible, will be missed and I know it.
I should count myself lucky because all of my friends are from Vancouver area and we can meet up during breaks. But it will be hard indeed to find new people in UBC and try to establish brand new connections.
How funny it is, that I should find myself a bit hesitant to go back home after all the incidents that brought my hope in the mankind even further down, after complaining how inconvenient it is to live here, bitching about every possible excuse that might make people back at home sympathetic of me.
This is oddly reminiscent to the last scene of G. Orwell's 1984, where the narrator describes Winston's final state of mind: "He loved Big Brother."
And I love the Castle.
