Okay. Now's a good time to strike a balance, i'd say. It's been two weeks since I started my studies and it's not quite as I have imagined it to be.

First and foremost: I am so glad that I didn't listen to what anyone else said and picked the subjects I knew I'd love. I know, Philosophy is not something which immediately calls for a bright and realistic future, but who the hell cares? I love the subject. It's interesting, fascinating, thought-provoking... I am going to have to spend at least five years with my studies and I am absolutely not going to damage my brain over a subject I dislike, just because it has a better look-out on a job. I enjoy Philosophy, that's what counts, at least for me.

And of course, English is fantastic, as well. At first I was a little worried, because I didn't know if my English was good enough to actually study it but as it turns out, my worries have been completely unnecessary. The one thing I have to work on though, is my grammar. Gosh, I'm so bad at Grammar, it's not even funny. I hate that German and English are so different Grammar-wise.

English Linguistics is a nice module. So far, it's been quite interesting. However, I definitely like Literature and Culture a lot more.

Another thing regarding Philosophy: We've just had a lecture on "The Philosophy of Love" and we're supposed to write an essay on it. I couldn't be more excited because that, by far, is one of my favourite subjects, regardless of university, etc. I'm really enthralled with the concept of love, especially when it comes to society and the way we manage to live within our own boundaries. It's all built on the foundation of love and therewith comes respect, acceptance and tolerance. Unfortunately, the lecture focused on romantic love, rather than platonic love but as we have to write an essay, I think we're allowed to formulate our own 'thesis', as long as we use the lecture as a base. I'll work on it tomorrow :D (pointless information ftw!) 

Now onto the bad things: the travelling by train is exhausting. I thought I could do it, but today I've definitely reached my limit. I got up at half past five in the morning, got on the bus at half past six and had to sit in a train for 1.5 hours. Afterwards, I had lectures and seminars until 12 o'clock. At three o'clock my train left for Zurich where I currently work (it's another full hour from Basel to Zurich). I work from half past five until 9 o'clock in the evening, and it's half past ten when I finally arrive at home.
So basically, I leave at half past six in the morning and I get back at half past ten in the evening, that's 16 hours of being on the road. Almost 4 hours of sitting on a train in a single day. (Luckily, I only have to work on Thursdays and Fridays, but even so,  I usually don't get back home before 8 o'clock)

That's just crazy, I realize that now. I am so damn exhausted every evening that I can't do any reading for my studies. But I don't have money to rent a flat in Basel and my parents sure as hell do not have it, either. So right now, I'm pretty much fucked. And it's gonna be like that for at least another year. During semesterbreak I am going to work as much as possible and I'm gonna save money like crazy... so hopefully, in a year's time I'll be able to move out! 
 

I'm almost done with finals.

I'M SO RELIEVED. And that's all. I'm tired and I wish I knew that guy's name. Guh.

And he sat there for a long time, just thinking; recalling memories of a past he knew was long gone. He was frowning, shaking his head, doubling his fists as thoughts of anger and rage entered his mind. No, no, no, he reminded himself. I cannot let this happen.

There was a time when he had the grand idea of making a difference. Anything really, just contributing something good to the world. That's what he had always wanted; the one thing he lived for. He had never been as bold as to doubt humanity, he had always been certain that mankind was meant to endure, to live on, to never give in.

What happened?

He wouldn't know. Nobody ever does. His faith and belief was shattered after many years of fighting for a seemingly good cause. It had something to do with woods, he figured. Wood that didn't exist any longer since mankind had been as nice as to burn it all done, without a care in the world. He didn't remember anyway.

His knuckles went white as he gripped his chair fiercely, panting hard and slowly. Where had love gone? Was it hiding? He couldn't blame it, for he wished he had the willpower to hide himself, as well.

Love. Always a solution, wasn't it? And at the same time, always an indicator for problems which were much too big to be dealt with single-handedly. If only he had abandoned those woods, if only he had paid more attention to the people around him, people that needed to be saved, way more than any forest in the world.

It was all clear now; he could see the truth but it was too late. He was too tired, too lost, too scared really, to do anything. Not that there was much to do anyway, the lost generation had proven to be most effective when it came to eliminating itself. The difference he so desperately wanted to achieve had never occurred. Those damn woods, he thought bitterly. But no, he would not think of it again, he promised himself. Never again.

Bigotry, oppression, injustice, pure and blatant hatred. How could he not have noticed? How could he have been so blind? No money in the world could ever buy the things humanity would have needed to be saved. No charity could have provided the solution everyone had desperately been looking for. While he had been so occupied with converting people to save the forest, he hadn't had the time to look beyond the obvious and recognize the origin of our inevitable downfall. And no forest would have had the power to prevent it.

The answer was blatant, easy, and obvious. It had always been around, tingling our noses like a small, annoying fly, easily overlooked and forgotten. And he knew damn well that he would have had the power to see it, he just knew, yet it only brought him more grief when he thought of all the lost years he had spent, somewhere down in Africa or South-America. He could have made that difference, he should have, too.

Unity.

That was all. That was all mankind had been hoping for. Though it was too late now. The end was close, he could feel it. If all nations had united, if everyone had taken it upon himself to provide the world with a long lost hope; it would have been a winning cause. Respect and acceptance, that's what had been important and significant enough to fight for. Not anymore, he mused, gripping his hair in sheer desperation, trying to get rid of the memories he had been trying to fight many years. Yet he couldn't.

If mankind would have been saved first, no woods would have needed saving in the first place. If he had stood for unity, pleaded for unity, fought for unity, he would have found a way to make a difference. He failed hopelessly and he knew it. There was no consolation in the world to make up for his mistake, his unforgiving failure. He could have saved everyone, but he wasn't patient enough to simply see.

And that thought alone was all it needed to make an old man lose his last breath of life. Never again.