I haven't had the energy to write what happened during the last few days, but they were filled with new kinds of experiences, some worry and many new things happening.

First of all, I came to realize that I'm actually in my second year, which, alone... Holy shit. Emotionally, this is the first time I made it this far in a uni. I did enter the second year in the uni back in Kemerovo, but it never felt like anything new, exciting or different. This time... boy howdy, it does. It's a lot to conquer in a few days, so I'll need time to figure out exactly what I feel about it. What I have already, though, is this:

The second year is filled with camaraderie, the feeling of belonging and some ground for a certain kind of confidence that tells you "You made it this far. See how far you go". For the first time, I have fully-fledged shared experiences with people that I belong to: my year's Foreign Languages Faculty students: the exams we've went through, the teachers whose paths we've crossed (possibly together), the mistakes and the great things we did or saw, or even heard of. It, in itself, is great, but it's not it for the year.

I get a whole boat of experiences both from having the freshmen in the uni and guiding some of them (in more ways than one). The sheer fact that there are people in "your" place (in a sense that it's a place you've gotten very much used to) and that those people are completely unfamiliar with their surroundings is astonishing because it reminds me, once again, how different we all are. It allows me, if just for a moment, to see the world around them with a sweet numbness of mind trying its best to grasp onto what is going on around it - and it's a beautiful moment, to be able to share someone else's experiences with such clarity.

I started out worrying about whether I'll be able to be a good curator, a good guide for the new students. One of them - Polina (I'm sure you'll hear of her a lot from me) - unintentionally exacerbates this worry of mine by being extraordinarily vigilant and curious. She's full of energy, unlike anything I've ever seen, and it's beautiful. She's been moving crowds to dance and chant like it's no one else's business. Aims to be a curator next year, herself, that one.

I realized some time later, though, that I worried because I imagined myself doing a lot more for them than I have to or even should. I thought of guiding them as padding their every step in this, apparently, new and dangerous place, when the reality is - they'll be fine just like we were; but they do have to learn some things they won't be able to on their own, like organizing a freshmen's concert, and this is where I come in, as well as on a matter of a few other questions they might have. I don't have to be the one to keep them from falling: just the one to help them get back if they do and tell them where they might lose their balance without proper preparation.

It went much better from there onwards. I pop up once in a while in the social network conversation to ask them something or share an advice. The worry disappeared. Whether it's the consequence or the reason, I now act more proactively and confidently towards them. Polina's asking me questions I never knew answers to makes me improvise, and it's a skill I'm honing quickly to be a good curator. It bothers me somewhat to rely not on specific information but on the extrapolation from what I know (like assuming that the photographs would appear on the faculty's page after the event), but I don't think it's harmful, so I'm keeping up with it so far.

(I did, however, give birth to what I think is a wonderful thought: "Socrates said, 'I know that I know nothing'. False confidence is intoxicating, but it is poisonous")

Today was the Friendship Run, where all the freshmen and their curators have to run around the university completing some tasks. Said tasks include: one-step-at-a-time minesweeper; putting all the guys in a line and make the girls use them as bridge to cross to the other side; collecting paper cranes from within the circle without stepping the ground on which they lie (to which one of our fellow curators proposed a brilliant solution that let us win despite our circle being huge) etc. It was a lot of fun. We didn't win, partly because there were so damn many of us (about eighty people - around two thirds of the year's freshmen - as opposed to last year's twenty), but we were excited, there was nice music for us to dance to (there was, among other things, a dancing competition; the girls from the group I curate rocked it, Polina among them) and we made great many photographs (nice ones, too), so it was all really good. Hella tired, we were, but it was worth every single second.

Next weekend, we're organizing them a picnic in a nice clean forest overlooking the river.

Talking to people grows easier every day. I feel much more confident socially, which also helped me realize that all the disdain and hatred I harbored for those who don't answer my attempts at socially wooing them was a shell I've been crafting for myself, a shell that made me and the people I'd like to know even further apart. Adapting the stance of love and curiosity towards people has been a transformational experience, and it still goes on to craft my experience with other people. I made an effort not to push people away when they disagree with me, and that earned me a friend (Masha, the germanist to the bone, whom I've talked about in the very first Curatoriade post); hopefully, more in the future.

A yearmate of mine (who is also a curator) asked me today: "What do I do with those who don't want to communicate, who want to sit in the corner of the class etc.?". There are plenty of new students who shy away from talking even to their own group; I know because I was one of them (which makes it almost funny she asked me this; I wonder if it's that she noticed my sudden transformation from shy to seemingly extraverted or that she didn't notice my shyness and just asked me for advice). It's interesting that because of my bad experience with socials early in my life I'm not only capable of answering this question but also providing those shy with a point of view they may relate to.

In Russia they say: "Nothing bad comes without the good" ("Нет худа без добра").

I enjoy this new social confidence. I invite people out, apologize when I should (the narcissist inside me is what makes this an achievement), am being sincere (the vulnerable narcissist in me's undoing), start conversations seemlessly, joke a lot more (though my sense of humor is still quite offensive, which I notice right after telling one such joke) and overall enjoy social interactions more. It is as if I broke through the shell I've created in a matter of a single day - the day I attended the first curator school's meeting. Maybe that was what I should've done all along: just do it.

It may also have to do with the fact that I have someone under my responsibility that I'm able to deliver to despite the effort it takes. This idea keeps me going through a lot more than I thought I could, including literally running around (see above). I get this amazing pool of energy when I can do stuff I wouldn't have normally allowed myself because I didn't feel like it. It does take most of my energy, though, so I don't give my projects as much attention as I wish I could. It's a shame, but I enjoy having such a responsibility: it gives sense to what I do. I want to find a way to reliably return to running the projects as well.

My group've met our new Grammar teacher. She seemed somewhat intimidating at first, but after one class with her, I realize that I admire the way she handles herself greatly. There was a moment in the class when she was explaining something and, having looked at us, figured that something's wrong: we looked too confused. She asked the group about it. I suggested (though in reality, I meant to save the group's face) that we're just listening carefully. She immediately replied: "No. You clearly don't understand what I'm talking about. Should I explain it?" - and I thought to myself: "Wow". It was the way she said it: with calm confidence, as if she couldn't possibly be wrong - and she wasn't. This kind of confidence you can't fake, and it's amazing to see it be presented in real life, in real time. She does well with joking to relax the atmosphere, too, which is just icing on the cake.

I found out some things about myself, as well. Apparently, I have grandiose tendencies (whereby I imagine myself being more than I am), which turns into excessive self-improvement. It explains this pattern I've entered when I was about sixteen: I wanted to live up to the fantasies of myself that I was having. One such fantasy during my time in the first uni (when I was about 18) was to let loose, to act unfettered enough to just say all the mean things I could think of to a person who's both close to me and disagreed with me on some level. It's pure abuse and egocentrism, but for the grandiose part of me, it was the pinnacle of social fortitude; for me, back then, it constituted the personal strength I lacked when it came to relationships.

I'm in a much better place now, but the patterns emerge more the more I engage with people, so by now they're fairly obvious to me. I still have the fantasies and the ideas of messing with people in some way pop up in my head at times, but I've decided that I'm not willing to play these games anymore. Just the fact that I'm capable of talking about this with clarity and without the profile-fixing (whereby I would exclude details that would defame me, in however small way) shows how big a progress I've made.

...and the year is just starting.