.goodbye, summer magic.
It feels so…weird, actually.
I know, it’s the XXI century, the age of progress and all, but something inside of me is representing against my actions at the moment. I’m at my country house, in a village in 75 km away from Moscow, the place where I have been spending every summer since I was born. For me, it was a heaven: I could spend time with my friends, get up at 4 PM or forget about sleep for a few days, realize any sort of crazy ideas, do what I wanted. But the only thing that I have tried to avoid was the connection with the “big world”. Cellphones weren’t working there and our old TV had only two or three channels mixed with white noise, and because of my phobia of noises I never switched it on. So we were stuck here without knowing what was happening in the world, getting the news only on the weekends when our parents were coming to see us. But it wasn’t a problem as it can seem today. It was our own little world, and we didn’t care about the real one – that’s how I personally perceived the times spent here. Later cellphones started working as the mobile net has developed enough for it, and the TV coverage has improved, and even later I learnt how to use my cellphone as a way to surf in the Internet. Day by day, brick by brick, the magic of being isolated started to vanish. But until the last moment I rejected to use the wonders of technical progress without need.
Last year I got a nervous breakdown in August. To avoid its transformation into something bigger, I threw a few random things in a bag and caught the first train to the east, away from the society, from people, from myself. I spent there a week or more, I didn’t count the days, with my cellphone plugged off, being totally alone, no music (I just left my iPod at home) and no connection with the outer land. Just walking, sleeping, writing someting and making up my mind. I haven’t said a word during all that time, because there was no one to talk with. During that week I wrote more stuff than I wrote in the whole 2008, and if I had a guitar there or something, I would have easily written an album-worth quantity of songs. This voluntary isolation really helped me to get through a not-so-easy period of my life. I think I should repeat it someday.
And what now? I’m sitting in my room with headphones on, and writing this post on my laptop using my iPhone as a modem. I call this moment the final death of my own “summer magic”. Its time has passed, and now it’s nothing more than a memory in the mind of a girl who didn’t want to grow up and see that the world has irretrievably changed.
~ by Anna on July 13, 2009.