We are... Wait, what are we really?

Art history, what the ... ? But are you sure, how about the money, the career, your future, your kids ? (I'm 19!) You're not beautiful enough to marry rich. (By the way, have you gained weight?) Oh, now you're just being difficult.

The Beginning
I like lots of things, maybe I'd like even more if only I knew them. I read, I draw, I take photos, I'm an annoying self-assured little thing that can charm herself out of sticky situations. I'm me and I found something I'm good at, and I mean really good at. And it's interesting and different, and all in all just my cup of tea, it's what I like.

The Choice
And then I arrived. I didn't expect much, I raised myself to be like this, and it was confusing, and stressing and messed-up, but I was happy to be here none the less. Sure it's not sunshine all the time, it's mostly boring, but it's my cross to bear, besides I look around and bless my cynicism for not expecting more - like most people did.

The Consequence (so far)
I met people. Each one different, each here in the same place, each for a different reason, but still together... We were set apart from day 1, confused, then ignored, then confused again, then messed with, and finally confused. But you know what? We're (more or less - obviously) together, in the same fishbowl so to speak. We are the minority, and we'll one day rule the world. So this is for everyone who is looking to find the truth in art, and searching for it in U.B.B Cluj.

Currently blinded by the silence of a thousand broken hearts!

Over and Out.