|About the Book|
The book presents a period of the protagonists life at the end of college and at the beginning of the post-school life, in a chronological diary format. Through concise vignettes, the protagonist muses over school, the working life, coworkers, the meaning of life, politics, social views, social interactions, and in general our place in this world. It is humorous at times, but it is also serious, thus authentically representing the inner monologue of a young person making it in contemporary society.The book is divided in two parts: Immature follows the college spirit and impatience, while Getting There shows the already evolving state of the self through battling frustrations and obstacles, but also some sort of budding perseverance that should be the building block of the character in adulthood.Excerpts:WHEN LEAVINGI like to break all forms of contact. Both good and bad memories are heavy on the consciousness, and I think the more we remember the worse we feel. Nostalgia engulfs us, we can’t get rid of memories that are of no use really, they are just there, in the way between me and the present and the future. Memories are a waste of time and a lost chance to find happiness. I deeply despise memories.Why are children so happy? Because they never remember anything, and so they never find themselves forced to draw conclusions about things, or worse – about themselves, and their behavior in the past. Kids are who they are right now, and the past doesn’t oppress them or hinder them to discover and enjoy what happens right now. The past hinders me – it nails me to a single solitary point where I am suffocated by the dust of so many decaying objects. Very few of my memories I’d actually want to go back to. My grandmother’s house – the attic and all the stuff in it, the white chairs in the kitchen – the round mirror, the yard, the little town, the old decrepit villa of the fallen party, the river, the forest. The small shops in the center, the red bike, my aunt’s house, the paved streets. And yet why do I miss it? Because I saw all that when I was small, up until the age of 10. I stopped seeing it ever since. In my memory, the experience of these images is still the one of the child me, not the adult me. If I went there now, would I still feel the same? Or would the sensation be different?WORK!Physically, I will be here, but spiritually I will be in apocryphal hell, where “sinners” were hanging from trees with their tongues stuck on branches. Monica Belluci will impersonate the Madonna and blissfully walk around hell, just teasing us sinners more about how nice it would be to get off this damn tree.When I was coming back in the train from work, I felt like I was living someone else’s life. The entire day at work, my brain slowly cooking while my eyesight deteriorates from all those rays – running for the bus and train is the most amazing experience afterwards, but even then I feel different. I get stuck in the moment from too much concentration and exertion. I wonder at the people who, after a working day, still have a brain left to read on their Kindles. I can’t!