A city

I spent the past four months as a visiting scholar at an American university. I wrote a substantial part of my dissertation, swam every single day, and kept up with my jobs.

I had intense aesthetic experiences. I was suicidal and cheerful. I was not bored once.

I found an impossible love that made me break most of my rules on dating.

I met a great number of people that were interested in what I had to say.

I found that I can be outgoing when it is necessary.

I realized that I am perfectly able to live on my own. I do not like to share a place with strangers.

I was able to write again. I wrote short poems. I shall not publish them.

I experienced several bouts of depression. I was surprised by my ability to handle them.

I felt alone, but not in a bad way.

I experienced the selfishness and cruelty of two persons I formerly loved.

I was mugged. Somehow, I found myself trying to empathize with the mugger.

I found a foreign city that somehow felt like home.