Really? A new entry already? Can this be true? Is the universe still intact? Check. Is Julianne Moore still the best living actress without a single Oscar? Check. Am I still a nerd trying to find luck in his life? Check. Okay, people, relax, all is fine. Phew. I just wanted to give you a much sought-after update, that’s all. See, I am in a very strange mood right now. How do you feel when on the one hand something beautiful may be - and I’m saying may, because I’ve become very, very careful in this regard - blossoming, while on the other hand every breath you take wreaks of utter exhaustion? (I’ve still got it, apparently… Wannabe-philosophical posts that seemingly don’t make any sense are my specialty. If anyone can decipher any of this, I’ll have to give you a reward. Seriously.) All of this is incredibly personal, of course, and privacy is also an aspect I’ve gradually learnt to deal with in a more mature way. Generally, I open up myself rather easily, which, in many cases, can be dangerous. (And hurtful.) But the reason I’ve actually decided to keep my innermost feelings and complex thoughts to myself is that I don’t want to get on anyone’s nerves. (Hoops, ‘ts to late for that, huh? Forgive me, dear readers. I’ll give you candy for wasting your time. Eventually.)

Exhaustion is a word that lays heavily on my mind… and heart, lately. Never before in my life have I felt this way. Never ever have I had to quickly hide behind a corner so that no one notices I’m bursting into tears… uncontrollably. Never before have I lost seven kilos without noticing. And never before have I wanted to admit to myself that I don’t know what’s going on with me. That, ultimately, I may just not be stronger than my problems. (Which, ironically, aren’t even my problems, but Lord knows I’m not a cold bitch… I can’t help but care. I can’t help but empathize. That’s just me.) ‘Being strong’ is mostly labelled a good thing. Physically strong men are generally considered attractive, emotionally strong people admirable. But there’s nothing enviable about occupying a very special position in a family, in an environment: being the strongest person, that is. Reaching a point where everyone ceases to - excuse my language - give a shit whether you have to run down to the cellar to cry, because usually, and up until now, you’ve always been smiling. Smiling. And smiling. I’ve tried to be the best human being I can be. I’ve been asked to be forgiving, kind, helpful. I’ve been asked to make sacrifices. And I can honestly say - with a conscience as clear as it could be - that I’ve tried. And for the most part, I’ve managed. But I’m living my life. My life. My. And I cannot do this anymore. I can’t take anymore of this. I have to move out. Caring for a mentally ill family member and all of its state-deteriorating side-effects can’t get the better of me. I still want to smile. And smile.

On the other hand, I’m happy. Something exciting may await me on the horizon. I’m sceptical, as always, because in the past, I’ve always ended up being hurt. Truly, truly hurt. And (for the near future, at least), I’m done being hurt. But there’s absolutely no need to be so pessimistic, which is why I’m hoping for the best. And relishing the few exciting and lavishly happy moments I get. For a change.

There’s a beautiful verse in a song by The Smiths, that goes:

Haven’t had a dream in a long time
See, the life I’ve had
Can make a good man bad

So, for once in my life
Let me get what I want
Lord knows, it would be the first time

And I will end this melancholic little post (beautiful, nonetheless), with the title of exactly this song: Please, please, please, let me get me what I want. […] Lord knows, it would be the first time.

What? Really? The geek is… back? Well, no, not really. See, when you are, say, me, ‘back‘ is a pretty relative term. How many times have I promised the exact same thing? How many times have I apologized for not posting anything in ages? A lot of times. Rough guess? 1,659. Yeah, that should be a quite accurate number, actually. So… what makes you think it’ll be different this time around? That’s the thing: nothing. I’m not back, I’m just here. Right now. Writing an entry. That’s because in this very moment, I am in a very chatty mood. And if I don’t have anyone to talk to close-by, usually some sort of other self-expression has to do the trick. Which, in this case, is blogging. (And maybe, just maybe, I will do exactly that more often from now on. Only time will tell, I guess. If you managed to successfully analyze my blogging-pattern, you’ll realize that I’ll excessively blog for about a month and vanish for, hm, say, six months after that.) How is all of this relevant? I don’t really know. Have you missed me? Definitely. You know that secretly, you have. And I have missed you too.

So what has happened in my life since I last wrote an entry in 1983? Phew, a lot. In a nutshell: A very important era of my life, namely ’school’, has ended. Quite successfully. Still, I fell into some sort of post-school depression. I also realized who my real friends are. Shockingly, I can count those on just one hand. (And sadly, I’m no alien with 13 fingers.) I opened myself up to these people, and what I got was sheer support, for which I love them. I have learnt so much about myself as a person, and I’m really and honestly proud of myself. For the first time in my life I’m completely and utterly comfortable with who I am, and I’m having a blast. Not that my life is any more spectacular now than it was back in my heyday (truly everyone knows my heyday is yet to come!), but loving yourself just the way you are really is the key to happiness. (Okay, shoot me. I’m pretty sure this is the title of some cheesy self-help-book. Just moments after writing it I could puke at the thought of it. But the essence of it is still true, minus the kitsch, of course.)

Bottom line: School ended, I sorted out friendships and relationships, and I’m happy with myself. Where are all the buzz-worthy fireworks? Well, I’m still waiting for them to come. The most important news I have to share: I got a job. (Note to the readers: A compulsory job. It’s called Zivildienst and it’s a welcome alternative to serving in the army, which, God forbid, was never a choice for me. Hallelujah!) Back in June, I was one of three guys to be picked for that special job, and I was the one who ultimately wound up getting it. (Fortunately.) The burnings question: What kind of job? Well, brace yourself for this: I now work at a women’s shelter. Actually, I’m finishing up my third month there. In these past three months, I have experienced many more challenging situations than I’ve experienced in my entire time at school. (And you haven’t met the people I went to school with!) I’ve seen the devastated look on a woman’s face who has lost her children and is committed into a psychiatric facility - against her will, that is. I’ve seen women who have lost virtually everything - their jobs, their families’ support, most devastatingly: the faith in themselves. Children who have never known anything else than a life in misery and poverty. And my heart is aching every single time I see these things. But they let me grow, as a person. And that is the most precious thing I could hope for, along with the fact that I genuinely get the chance to help these people. And at the end of the day, I really feel that this is what counts in life. Of course I’ll be telling all of you more about my work at the women’s shelter (only if I’ll ever blog again after this entry) - the things I get to see there are really worth telling, and worth reading. (And of course I won’t invade anyone’s privacy or exploit anyone’s trust, that’s not my intention. My intention is to share with you what life sometimes has in store for people. From now on, this blog will not only feature stories of my seemingly unspectacular life, but also shockingly daunting stories from the women’s shelter.)

Other than my work at the women’s shelter, what important news are there? Care for a newsflash? Sure, let’s go: Virtual TV is finally back online with a new design, and I’m very proud of it. Also, I’m producing new episodes of my virtual hit series Faye, due sometime in 2010. (Or 2014, if we stay realistic.) I also took up tweeting again, and at times I feel a little Twitter-addicted. I fell in love for the second time in my life (yes, with a person!)… and was hurt, again. But not as badly as was the case back in November of 2008. I bought a fancy MacBook Pro which I’m loving to bits and pieces. I decided to move to Vienna with my BFF Andi next year, and I’ll either be studying film (which was my initial plan) or graphic design (the idea of studying that was sort of an epiphany, and I don’t want to dismiss it). I’m so happy Julianne Moore was Golden Globe nominated for ‘A Single Man’, and so disappointed she got snubbed at the SAG awards for Diane Kruger in ‘Inglorious Basterds’. (Still hoping the AMPAS will honor her with at least a nomination. For God’s sake, it’ll be her fifth!) Movies I’ve seen since last May that I love? Princess and the frog (so glad there’s finally a hand-drawn Disney classic), The Hangover, (500) days of summer (I’m in love with Joseph Gordon-Levitt… uhm, and Zooey Deschanel, of course), Up, Julie & Julia (who predicted Meryl will win the Oscar for that flick? Everyone thought I was wrong. Well, we’ll see come March 7th), Drag me to hell (best horror film ever), Inglorious Basterds (the one and only Tarantino I’ll ever like). I was terribly devastated when Michael Jackson died and I still haven’t recovered from the shock. Also, I’m still mourning Bea Arthur, Golden Girls’ Dorothy Zbornak. Not to mention Ray (the firefly from ‘Princess and the frog’… God I loved that firefly, I want to marry it)! My Matura grades? Any guesses? I’ll just tell you my average: 1.0. You do the math, buddies. Also, three of my new favorite TV shows: Damages, Big Love and United States of Tara. (FX, HBO and Showtime. I’m not big on networks, am I?)

A lot more things have happened. For Pete’s sake, seven months have passed since I last wrote, so that was kind of a given. But now that you’re updated, I can re-vanish for a few years, right? Just kidding. You have me back. Tomorrow my transformation into a geek will be complete when I’ll finally wear my brand-new retro nerd glasses: a Ray-Ban Clubmaster. I’ll have Andi take photos, and I’ll likely be inspired to retool the site a bit, changing the design and all. But like always, don’t expect any fireworks.

Until next time, stay cynical. Over and out,

Dimitri 

Wow, so that was it. That was really it. The Matura; at least the written one. In retrospect, I really don’t know what I was so scared of. But to be fair, I wasn’t really anxious before taking that English exam. And tada, proves I didn’t have to. 100 points out of 100. A humble fourth of these (= 25 out of 25) for the actually rather challenging listening comprehension, which exaggerated a little with the fancy British accent, making it almost incomprehensible. Don’t get me wrong, I love the British accent, but it’s undeniably harder to understand than American English. Well anyway, here come the three texts that I wrote, which made for the remaining 75 points.

First, we had to write an argumentative essay of about 350 to 400 words. If you click on the small thumbnail on the left, the task we had to fulfill will emerge in a bigger picture. And as a small bonus, you have the option of reading my texts in the original handwritten versions. It’s much more personal that way.

I like that text, actually. I’m proud of it. I’m getting rather abstract at some passages, but overall, I think what I wrote quite sold my liberal views on the topic. Anyway, next up is the second text (a formal letter of complaint), one that should have been shorter. I guess I couldn’t quite restrain myself, which resulted in a text that is a little longer than it ought to have been. As before, you can take a peek at the task that we were asked to perform when clicking on the small thumbnail, which actually contains two tasks. But I’ll talk more about the latter afterwards.

I’d make a great concerned middle-aged mom, wouldn’t I? Oh yeah, I definitely would. I’m proud of this letter of complaint, as I was able to use some of the fancy adverbs I so desperately wanted to scatter throughout my Matura. Notice my frequent use of “utterly” throughout all of my texts. I just adore this word so much I want to hug it. It sounds so sophisticated, and yet simple. My oh my, my use of know-it-all adverbs is really obvious, huh? Abundantly, inexorably, poignantly, anyone? Ah, gotta love ‘em. And last but not least, a short story. The weakest text of the three, and the shortest one, too. Take a deep breath and take it all in. (The task is the second one on the scanned sheet above, by the way.)

Yeah, told you it wasn’t anything special. Although I like the sentence about the hopeless search for something aesthetic in that image in the mirror. For no one knows how to throw in a ‘callously’ just as subtly as I do. Ah, just joking. So that’s it, folks. That was what I produced in five hours of my life [on the 19th of May, 2009], and what consequently and fortunately got me an A. Stay tuned for more Matura craziness. Upcoming: my mostly error-free French Matura (and that was a huge surprise, though a very good one at that) including a translation, my complex Mathematics Matura (in order to revitalize any of mine [and your] underused brain cells responsible for logic and other nonsense like that) and finally, my victorious and glorious German Matura (don’t get your hopes up, it won’t get nominated for a Pulitzer… or will it?). Over and out.

Last November, I was utterly curious to finally get to watch Kate Winslet’s and Leonardo DiCaprio’s onscreen reunion. I’d never been a big fan of the much buzzed-about blockbuster Titanic, but when I saw the trailer of this new drama called Revolutionary Road, I got hooked. I’m a huge sucker for subtle dramas featuring richly nuanced, three-dimensional characters and a riveting, realistic story, and this movie proved to include all of the above - quite abundantly, that is. But what’s it about? In the hopeful 1950s, Frank and April Wheeler seem to be a model couple: bright, beautiful, talented, with two young children and a starter home in the suburbs. Perhaps they married too young and started a family too early. Maybe Frank’s job is dull. And April never did see herself as a housewife. Yet they have always lived on the assumption that greatness is only around the corner. But now that certainty is about to crumble. (Taken from the back cover of Richard Yates’ Revolutionary Road, Vintage Books, New York.)

The movie starts out very slowly; the story seemingly takes all the time it needs to get the ball rolling and introduce two complex and therefore amazingly interesting characters: Frank Wheeler, and his wife, April Wheeler. Whereas the beginning of the movie might seem a little low-paced, the audience can witness the first of the film’s many highlights after just a few minutes; April and Frank have an ugly fight on their way home; it seems that all the irreversible damage has already been done, and there’s not really anything that can save their broken marriage at this point. The flow and rhythm of the story doesn’t slow down after that. Myriad beautiful and subtle scenes gradually paint pictures of who these characters are; what they feel, what they want. They are struggling to be happy, or quite frankly to be great and special, and as an intellectual audience, you feel with them throughout all their painful struggle. To sum it up poignantly: the screenplay is stellar; Justin Haythe’s adaptation of Richard Yates’ late novel is not only true to the original, but it is compelling and taut. No scene is irrelevant and redundant, and one of the biggest strengths of the movies, the dialogue (especially in very strong and emotional conversations), just stands out, due to its audaciously frank bluntness; viewers are quite pleased to see that for once, characters actually say what they think and feel rather than keeping it to themselves.

The production design for this movie was luscious, the costumes lavishly beautiful. It’s always great to see that there are still a few people out there who know how to make a story taking place way back in the 50’s look not only credible, but breathtakingly stunning. Sam Mendes’ direction falls nothing short of pure perfection. The images in this movie seem so naturally beautiful, and yet are they artistic, and if one carefully pays great attention to them, they just prove picture-perfect. This director certainly knew how to make this story work visually, and the frames and the pace, and even the editing, all of it makes for a movie that goes under the skin. Not to forget the wonderfully melancholic music by Thomas Newman, which successfully echoes the tone of the entire movie, providing it with yet more dramatic nuances.

Of course I’ll now finally have to address what makes this movie the best movie in a long time; the performances. Kate Winslet is April Wheeler. The subtlety with which she plays this difficult role is almost unbelievable; given the story’s approximity to reality and the strong dialogue, her heartbreaking portrayal of this troubled character just rounds out the whole picture. A little weaker than his female counterpart, Leonardo DiCaprio still acts his guts out, and deserves some recognition, too. His portrayal of Frank Wheeler is hauntingly good and mature, and the variety of emotions he evokes with it is downright phenomenal. But one has to argue that it is probably the fact that these two talented actors worked together - once again - that made their respective performances so strong, and I’d have to wholeheartedly agree.

This seemingly depressing movie is undoubtedly one of the best dramas of 2008, if not the best. Its powerhouse performances and its strong story make it not only worth watching, but a masterpiece that will be remembered for a long time to come. I know Kate Winslet won her Oscar for The Reader, and quite deservingly so, but personally, her portrayal of April Wheeler in this extraordinary movie was what sold the deal for me. The movie is now available on both DVD & Blu-Ray. Also don’t forget to read the stellar book by Richard Yates on which it is based upon, also entitled ‘Revolutionary Road’.

Click to see in full glory… and enjoy. Anyway, you’re invited if you want to. My door is always oh-pen. Duh, see that bed? It’s e-e-empty! And that remark was just whor-ible. God how I love to play with words. (Obvious, isn’t it?)

Lovely, right? Almost everything’s from IKEA, by the way. My absolutely favorite items in this lil’ word of mine: my DVD collection, my cork board with many, many memorabilia, post cards, photos, scribbles, notes and much more that makes me who I am. My cupboard (without any knobs to open it, if you noticed… I’m a pro at opening it without them). My TV set, of course. Huh, just … well, I’m in love with it. If you could marry a TV, I’d marry it right now. (That’s if it wanted me, too.) And see my pillows? My myriad pillows? Looks comfy, right? Yeah, but I get rid of them every night. I just need one for my head and one to hug. You’re free to guess as to which two I’m using, and for what

And next up: Pimp my Dimi!

Drafts are… well, drafts. Sometimes they are not supposed to be published. But these drafts here that I’ve saved on Wordpress, they should be seen by the public, trust me. Enjoy the elaborate look behind the scenes of my life, basically, for here’s what I’ve never ever published:

From an entry I started writing on September 10th, 2008 and continued writing until I stopped on November, 30th, called I know what I did last summer:

Next up, an extract from a rather serious entry, titled Tomorrow’s a new day too, you know, written on the 4th of January, 2009:

Phew. New year, new luck? Yeah, right. The first four days of 2009 show me it’s still the same old, same old thing. And once again - hopefully for the very last time ever - I’m also complaining about the same old stuff. It’s January now, you know. I had been hopeful - or at least I was truly trying to be hopeful - and this being hopeful and waiting for something to happen in January, the prospect of something changing… that was what kept me going. Some might say this sounds ridiculous, and it does. But it’s nonetheless true. Right now, so many damn thoughts and feelings keep me from sleeping, eating, concentrating; quite frankly put: being myself. I’m torn between the wish that everything hadn’t happened, and that I would still be the same person without these experiences. Then I would have been spared all the hurtful repercussions. Then again I don’t regret anything that has happened last year… why, when the outcome proves to be so devastating? I would like to think it’s because I have the urge to grow wiser and to learn new things. But I know myself as a person, and I don’t like to admit it, but it’s because there’s still hope for me. And this lack of proper closure (like real closure, and some final answers) is killing me. And the thought that I can’t move on while they can (that this is everything on my mind while they rarely ever think about it… only if they ever think about it, that is)… yeah, wow, it’s… I’m stunned, I don’t know how to put it into words what I’m feeling.Okay, there’s nothing much left right now. I just needed to write this down. Once and for all, and for the very last time. I’m not going to ever write about this again - I promise. And I keep my promises. I need to deal with this. It’s not like I haven’t dealt with other heavy stuff before.

[And see, I did keep my promise. Never ever whined again.] And finally, an entry from the 5th of February (so you see, I tried several times to post something!), titled There’s always tomorrow:

And that’s about it. No more drafts from now on. Just entries.

Some sort of intellectual drought, apparently. Seriously, why is it I have these creative highs during which I basically can’t contain myself from writing dozens of entries every single day, and then again a complete drought hits me and bam, it’s over. It’s over until five long months later, I’m suddenly back again. Back in full glory, that is. I don’t have the answer to that question (quite tricky, huh?), I can just say that you should be happy my blog-abstinence is officially over. I myself can’t tell what the incentive was this time ’round for me to start rambling on here again, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m here, right now. And what might interest you is what I’ve been up to the past five months. I’ll try to sum up what happened in these months in brief paragraphs that only contain the real essence of what was important in each month. (But y’all know how bad I am at keeping it short.)

Let’s start with cold and depressing January. (Emphasis on depressing!) What a blast I had back then. No, wait, actually I didn’t. January was horrible. January was when I sank to a new level of patheticness. When I did something that I still regret so much that it almost hurts thinking about it. Want to know what? Well, that’s my dirty little secret. (Though it’s not dirty, only sad. Utterly sad.) Let’s only say that I lost all my dignity for something that wasn’t worth it. And that, my dear friends, led to an incredibly hurtful drop in my self-esteem. The snowy and rainy weather didn’t help either. School was going well, as always. Other than that, I can’t remember anything special happening in January. Except me being in that horrible place that I never in my life want to return to.

February wasn’t all that spectacular either. In what were my final ‘Semesterferien’ (no fitting translation here, sorry guys!) I went to Vienna to spice up my oh so exciting life. Long story short: I didn’t manage, even though I really tried hard to change something. I went swimming in my aunt’s pool, I read a book about prime numbers and got hooked with Mathematics (who knew that would happen?), I hit a creative high and wrote about 15 of the best pages of fiction that I’ve ever written (and who thought that would happen?). Other than that, February was bo-yawn-ring. Sadly so, but that’s the truth. Mission Spice Up Life needed to be postponed till at least March due to some difficulties. (Ah, not to forget: February was the month I had ‘Stellung’. Meaning I went to the military so they could tell me how fitting I was. Fitting to be the next super-soldier. Funny thing. Not such a fan of the military, though. But still it was fun, fun, fun! And they told me I’d make a great soldier! … Yeah, like that’d ever happen.)

March… March. Wait, there was something in March. Hmm, let me think… ah, my birthday! Yeah, right, finally I turned 18. What a wonderful thing. Other than feeling some sense of freedom, that really didn’t mean anything to me. I almost found myself being alienated by the thought of feeling ‘adult’ just because I now happened to be 18 and it said so on my ID. I was basically still the same person. Now these five past months here, that’s a whole other story. These five months, no matter with how much sarcasm I comment on them here, changed me as a person. I matured, I really did. But again, that didn’t have anything to do with that insignificant number that I consider my age. March… was still somehow exciting. I celebrated my birthday together with Jassi - sweet, innocent Jassi - in a cool location that a friend of my stepfather’s owns. I got some money when I turned 18; money that had been on a bank account since I was 12 (that was when I was involved in an ugly, almost fatal car accident)… money that I was given by my insurance company back then. A few days later I could start redecorating my room. One wall is now elegantly painted in a dark blue (the other walls are beige); I bought some furniture and an orgasmic LCD TV (excuse my language, but if you saw it you’d understand). Oh, and a Blu Ray player. I didn’t know I would even notice the difference, but ever since, I fell in love with HD. March also marked an all new high concerning the success I had in school. 100 out of 100 points in English, 48 out of 48 points in Mathematics. Not that it matters, but it was still good to know I at least didn’t have to worry about my grades when the year was to come to an end. (Concerning school it came to an end, that’s what I mean.)

… which it basically did in April. April was a month that saw us soon-to-be ‘Maturanten’ growing more and more anxious towards the… well, the ‘Matura’. We counted the days. We studied like crazy people. We tried to console each other. We tried to save our remaining braincells (damage control, anyone?). We had nightmares. It was intense. In fact, this pre-Matura time took the word ‘intensity’ to a whole new level. (In retrospective, that’s funny. Very funny, that is.) April was also the month that finally gave me closure in that ugly matter that had cost me all my dignity back in January (see above). April was mostly school-centered, and quite abundantly so. Quite logical, given the fact that it was one of the final months of school.

May; that’s where we are right now. May takes everything you read in the preceding paragraphs to a yet another whole new level. The written Matura, for example; it’s over now, it’s done. Eight years it had been approaching inexorably, and suddenly, and quite mercilessly, it was only one night before it all was to finally start. It was an unrealistic experience. Starting with German (we had to write an argumentative essay based on a very, very difficult - almost cryptic - impulse article!), continuing with Math (hallelujah, never been so scared in my entire life!), resuming with English (aw, love it, though the listening comprehension with the fancy, largely incomprehensible British accent was just plain mean!) and ending in a grand finale avec Français (which I admit I was very nervous about, given the fact that this marked the subject that I least expected to get a good grade in… I’m still curious as to how well I did in the end). Today, we write the 23rd of May. I’m returning to blogging here. (Or maybe not, still have to make my mind up about that. At least it looks like it.) And maybe, only maybe, something great has started. Maybe, my life is taking a turn. Maybe mission Spice Up Life finally worked. We’ll see. One thing these five past months taught me was not to expect too much, and not to über-analyze everything that comes my way in life, thereby ruining it. So, only time will tell. To the next five months!

Thanks for reading this, folks. These are my thoughts, btw, only my bare thoughts, and I get that they might seem very incoherent to some of you. (Most of you, I guess.) I’ll try to keep it more simple in the future. Though just like shortness, simplicity isn’t really one of my great strengths.

… right, that would be school. Phew, I just wanted to apologize for not writing in such a darn long time. I’ll be writing something soon. Maybe on the weekend. At least I’ve got a whole lot quite a few things to tell you all… look forward to fresh and optimistic entries! It’s 2009 now, my friends, and that means all the everlasting and ongoing whining is over. YAY!

Due to my long-lasting admiration for Michael Cunningham’s extraordinary book The Hours, which started several years ago when I discovered the stunning movie of the same title, I have decided to dig deeper and analyze this literary masterpiece, looking closely at its actual origins; Virginia Woolf’s powerful 1925 novel Mrs. Dalloway, and the genuine life story of the famous author itself. The Hours could not exist without these fundamental, underlying bases that made it not only possible to redefine and properly modernize Mrs. Dalloway, including all its initial themes, but also to draw upon an enormous collection of characters, events and symbols, to create what The Hours successfully depicts: a subtle, beautiful book with a rich background. These three components - Virginia Woolf’s life, her work (represented by her most important novel Mrs. Dalloway) and the modern adaption of both, The Hours - are tied closely together, and it is a truly interesting experience to explore all the parallels between them. This is also the reason I chose this as my special topic for the Matura, and on the following pages you will be able to discover the myriad connections I found these books had.

Note: This is the brief introduction to my special topic for English, along with its cover; I’ve already written about six pages, which means there are about nine pages left that I have to write. Okay, I better get back to work now. It’s really inspiring though; I’m researching, structuring, designing and most importantly of course writing this special topic while either having The Hours run in the background (the movie, of course) or listening to Philipp Glass’ majestic score. For all of you interested; the final file will be downloadable as a PDF file as soon as it’s finished.