Mercator Blog

Imported from the old Mercator Blog (Original Author: Ivan Stefanov)

And so that's it. An (unofficial) NO from the admin and I am out of this place for real. I honestly didn't believe it is going to happen that quickly; after all a big part of me is still left in this soggy, cloudy, quite oftenly depressing campus, how could I ever detach from it?

I don't know. I guess I'll have to find some other way, but it just comes to show things simply happen, whether we like it, whether we have planned for them, or not.

It is not the end of the world, I know. Life is in front of me with all those exciting things to come. If only it wasn't for the little voice inside my hand telling me this is a door I would never be able to completely shut...

Imported from the old Mercator Blog (Original Author: Ivan Stefanov)


It is the middle of the year again, or, to be more precies, half of the year has passed beneath my feet - fast, unforgiving - never coming back.

It was July Morning yesterday. The day, which a single hippie anthem turned into a celebration of the new beginning, accompanied by a night of quite unrestrained drinking. The roots of this meet-the-new-dawn romantics probably go way, way back to the cult of the Sun, common in most early civilizations... The new dawn, a new day, smell of a fresh air and cold night clouds backing, giving in. Eternal strive for the new hope; as if the simple fact that you have gotten out of bed early/didn't go to bed until *very* late would change anything. But I love it, love it, love it. My private New Year's Eve - the July Morning.

I missed it again this year. But one thing I've learnt - the date itself is not important. Whether it is July 1st, September 16th or March 4th doesn't matter. What matters is to remember that there *always* will be a sunrise; a new dawn; a morning of pure resurrection. Even if you are a lazy asshole like myself and could hardly be bothered to sacrifice a good night's sleep unless very special circumstances occur. What is important: the sunrise in you. This is another, much less known song by Uriah Heep, by the way.

Imported from the old Mercator Blog (Original Author: Ivan Stefanov)

As I was sliding in and out of consciousness this morning, never minding the effort to wake up or fall completely asleep, I was quite probably the happies person on Earth.

We are taught to believe that people who do not spend their life working are lazy bastards, committed slackers and so on. I, myself, have always despised people who are too lazy to do anything with their lives. But while experiencing the warm waves of the knowledge that today I am free, and there is nothing expected from me in this day, but to have a nice, relaxing time, I am not so sure anymore. Yes, sure, I've spent the last three years without laying back for more than a week or so, and perhaps I deserve to get this hippie-like month or two before going on... But is the pointless lazying really without a point? Hell, there are complete cultures, philosophies, founded on the notion of having your time observing the world...

Anyway, holiday rocks. I wish I was not alone here in this forgotten town, so I could share it with someone.

Imported from the old Mercator Blog (Original Author: Ivan Stefanov)

So that was it. As fast as expected, the last week or so of my student's life flew away. A quick burst of 4 exams, and it is over. Over. Completely - nothing more to do here, everything is finished. At least with Bachelor's education...

It is so easy to count the days - exactly 14 to Check-out day. But there are some other things that are so hard to count - not that it is complex, it is just ... hard. For instance, when you count, you know that there is no time to drink another crate of beer. Or there is no point in buying one more box of pizzas. No more than two chocolates. No use in printing a new book to read. Two or three more laundries. Time - I don't care about it. But all those little signs of life that are flowing through my fingers faster than I can count - this is really getting to me. I can't believe I'm saying it after 3 years of constant, at moments almost unbearable pressure, but it seems that now, when it is all over, is the real time to be strong.

Imported from the old Mercator Blog (Original Author: Ivan Stefanov)


So, it's all over, then? The guided research is - kind of - done, not complete, but done, paper submitted, presentation given, although it passed quite bad... but whatever, it. is. OVER. And with all the courses already passed, as it seems, I am starting to embrace the idea that my days in this university are counted. Hopefully, at least the undergraduate days. I really want it all to be over once and for all - I do not have the nerve to wait for all the grades and stuff, I am so tired of the whole grade business that I just want my diploma in my hands and the long summer rest I have promised myself some 2 years ago.

Today something else occured to me - even if it happens so that I am admitted here and I do not see the last of this university on 6th of June, I will no longer be living on campus. Strange thought. This campus, this college started feeling like home, kind of...

Imported from the old Mercator Blog (Original Author: Ivan Stefanov)

46 hours and counting... down. This is the time remaining to finish my guided research, finish the paper, check it, double check it, drink a glass of cold water to flush away all the bad taste of incompleteness and imperfection and submit the damn thing. One day, when it is long since gone, I am sure I'll be missing dearly these hours of high-strung, nerve-twisting tension... straining your will, or your stubborness, to the very edge, which you never exactly dare to cross.

We are always so afraid of the edges, even when we are constantly moving on them. What lies beyond is scary. Freefall? FREE fall? I wouldn't call it this way - to fall and to be free are contradictory terms in my eyes.

Anyway, one day I'll be missing it all, but right now, in this very moment, I would love 2 hours for myself, sunset at the top of the world, a hammock, and the inevitable cold beer. Or the soft touch of the freshly mown grass under your bare feet on campus green, as hippie as the experience may sound. But bring it on, whatever may come. 46 hours and counting down.

Imported from the old Mercator Blog (Original Author: Ivan Stefanov)


Wow, I haven't written here for a really long time. The sixth semester kind of got me and with all this guided research and such "I am going slightly mad". Not that slightly, if I have to be sincere, though...

Anyway, I just wanted to note that a new list for communication with the Mercator College team - information _AT_ mercator-college.org . Feel free to use it for requests, suggestions, or just to tell us how great we are :P

Now let's read some scientific bullshit - wrapping it up.