I was thinking of it all day. I want to write in English again. Sometimes, it feels more comfy, than writing in Hungarian. I  don't know why. I just feel like it. Words come easier, I can write more descriptive expressions. I remeber making up some sentences in my head, earlier on today. I cant remember them now. Surprise, surprise... Oh, got it.

I would be handy to balme him for me being late this morning. But the thing is, it was not his fault. Even if he texted me at bloody half 3. I made him stay, I stood up late. Somehow, when we agreed with Matt to meet at 10 in the morning,  i felt I was gonna be late. I just knew it in my bones. Despite the fact what I was planning to do, I was late. Whatever. Not a new thing.

I often think to myself: whatever happens to me after graduation, I will miss speaking English. If I leave this country anyway. This is one thing I don't regret at all. No matter how long I have to speak for, how tired or drunk I am, I still enjoy it. Hearing myself, fluidly talking about whatever I want to express just feel awsome. Every time I get drunk, I start thinking about the fact that Im not speaking my own language. And I just keep thinking, whilst speaking, I feel the edge of the answer, but I can never get it. How is that possible, anyway? I might not even want to break the secret. So it stays, as it is. Misterious and joyful.