For Myself

I should be writing about a book or movie now but I can't really concentrate on anything but my self-pity. My favorite student group most probably won't resume their course, which means further financial shortfall for me. And most likely emotional mess as well. I really wanna get out of this vicious circle of having solved one problem and bumping into another one. Mamma says that's how it goes. In which case I don't really wanna get involved with "it." Come on, I'm twenty-four, which entails that I shall suffer at the labor market for the next forty or fifty years. I assume by that time Hungary will have cancelled all possible pension systems. (One thing I like about pessimism is that one never has to feel disappointed.)
Wish I could put on my sunglasses and walk away in the sunset as in a movie. But you know, it never turns out what they do after walking away. Smoke a cigarette, most likely, or get stoned. Not too constructive. There's an urban saying in Hungarian, something like "There are two roads for the intellectuals; one is alcoholism, the other is impassable." But to tell the truth, I'm not even an intellectual. I mean, I consider them to be people who care about their country, watch news programmes, read clever periodicals, and are familiar with contemporary art. I just wanna get by and enjoy myself. Quite simple.
Anyway, it'd be very un-American to give up without fighting, which I certainly don't want to be. Besides, I'm not in the position of surrendering. My duty is to provide the means of an adult life. Period.
If only I could have been wiser at the right time.
"Not to recognize one's mistakes - that would be happiness in life." (Henry James: The Europeans)