Another day, another nightmare. I am tormented by thoughts of my subconscious.

They cut wounds like sharp knives to the flesh, and in the light of day all that is left is the pain.

Make no mistake, my skin is thick and can sustain. My fault is my brain, the root of this pain.

Perhaps I should stop these thoughts of anguish; tell them they're not welcomed anymore. But my gap is deeper than oceans, my lack is their sanctuary.

Clarity is what I have, and that must prevail. My brain at sunrise against that which reigns at dawn. Le roi est mort, vive le roi!

Essay in support of application, IE Business School

Every day I play a game of fortuity.

I live in a house I call my home, but veritably: home is a concept inherent in my presence. I belong nowhere.

I work where I can to ensure I float above the surface of the sea. I live modestly, but I seek greatness; oysters are a luxury, but so is freedom to me.

I like to fill my days with art. I read all sorts of things, from love poems to Russian biographies, and cricket compendiums. It seems gruesome to me that my augmentation of knowledge be limited by facets imposed by my professional pursuit. I paint to express ephemeral emotions, and I write to modulate conclusions from acerbic matters.

I am riveted by aspects of international law and I dedicate myself to it. No matter what flaws the international infrastructure may have at the present moment, they can only be curtailed by paramount concepts of law and by humanity itself, for hope lies always in the future. 

Leaving my parents' house in Romania at the age of eighteen was not a great risk; it was an adventure in all of its essence. The past five years in The Hague have thrust me into an array of situations, and consequently, although condensed time wise: I have tasted triumph and I have cried loss; I touched joy and I have sank in despair; I have crawled in poverty and bathed in wealth. I am ready to leave.

However, an activity which nurtures my personal development is running; and this activity started in The Hague. 

I do not run for the physical benefits of it, running gives me clarity of mind. When I lace up my shoes in the morning and set off on the cold pavement, I depart with a problem. Step by step, foot after foot, I forget about my surroundings and I run with the problem. I do not run away 

from it, nor do I run towards it; we run together. 

And in this isolated stretch of solitude I surrender myself to reality. I evaluate the many aspects of this problem in contradistinction to what I have conceived to be my values as well as what I seek to accomplish in my appetite for elation. At times, it becomes overwhelming; so I run faster. I endure physical pain over misery induced by my problem; I run to breakpoint.  It is only when I have stripped myself of fear and pain, that I can delineate my next step. 

I seek balance in an unbalanced lifestyle, where the hunger for joy could only be nourished by a leap in the dark. 

A letter to my beloved,

I will never find the right words to narrate this story to you, in a manner which can even slightly come close to dignify its essence. I took a great risk when I quit my job last year.

Working full time in the restaurant, I was finally walking on a solid foundation. In my first year of living in The Hague I struggled financially a great deal. But I desperately wanted this education, so I bore my hardship; I had imposed upon myself that it will all be worth it in the end. 

Between work and university however, there was hardly any time left for anything but sleep. And in the life of a law student, sleep represents elysium. When having established a lifestyle where I can balance these two in a way where not only did I cope, but progressively excelled in both, I decided to take on more responsibility for financial gain. My view was that, fastened in this situation until graduation, I may very well make the most of it and earn a steady income.

Thus by late last year, I had finally established income security. I enjoyed the privilege of affording to travel slightly, go out for meals sometimes, and spoil my parents at significant times, because in Romania they are perpetually struggling. Every day was the same: filled with endeavours, yet empty in its essence. 

Progressively, I sacrificed my personal unfolding as a human being for income prosperity in a path of academic pursuit. I am not wistful; I did what I had to do to survive when times were tough. And after that, I exhausted my situation for the better.

But, the past five years have passed by in an instant. One night after my shift, we sat on that bench and talked until dawn. I opened my eyes for the very first time: in a patterned lifestyle, I was functioning mechanically as if I was wearing a pair of blinkers. I had no interests, no hobbies, and no skills outside the realm of these two spheres I had immersed myself in.

I went home and wrote to you that morning; an amalgam of emotions rushed in an email I never sent. An email that vanished subsequently, together with my drive to thrive. But you sparked something irrefutable. I couldn't sleep for weeks, my brain was searching for a solution, but there was none; I was financially dependent, and paralyzed by fear of failure. Until one day. 

When I handed in my notice, on 17 November, I feared I would find myself the same place I was five years ago. I did not envision that it would result in the greatest endowment of all: time.

I have allowed myself the time I needed to finish my LL.B. dissertation; a piece which persuasively challenged the current framework of international criminal law in anticipation of future challenges imminently emerging, and my masterpiece. 

Also, I made time to feed my curiosity and shape what my interests are.

Doubtlessly, I'd like you to know that it was you who encouraged me to take this risk, and you who inspired me to be. 

Our encounters enthralled me with each occasion. We spoke about everything for hours, in what seemed endless nights. Slowly, you became a pillar to my foundation so I can effectively terminate an employment which dictated my way of living. And subsequently in this pillar, you have continued to challenge my foundation, infiltrated in every crack, until I built it stronger. What did not kill me, made me.  

Not only that, but you have searched with me, and inspired me to find this hobby which I enjoy; you embraced my art and inspired my paintings. In my newly discovered appetite, you have introduced me to literature. Inadvertently or cautiously orchestrated, your nature exhilarates my critical thinking.

Fundamentally however, you have nurtured my drive to pursue law in times when I neglected it. As a consequence, I earned the utmost privilege of addressing an audience of distinguished academics as well as judges of the International Court of Justice, at the Peace Palace in The Hague, and discuss with them the pronouncements of my LLB dissertation.

You believe in me. You told me on the bench that night, and now I see it in your mien. 

Now that I have chosen a path and found this programme which enthralls me, you chose to remain in that pillar, either fearlessly or in defiance of the potential impact it will have on you.

That night, I fell in love with you. And despite our profuse differences as partners, my feelings are not ephemeral. For life without you can never truly be whole, and my heart belongs to you wherever you are.

Yours,

R.

In light of the foregoing, quitting my job was indeed a time I took a great risk; writing this letter is another. But right now, I can only describe the outcome of the former.

Alice

Last night I dreamt we had a child; a little girl. She must've been 11 or so, she had long brown hair and olive oil skin. I cannot recount more than a small fragment of what my dream entailed, but we were visiting this city, and she walked around telling people that "We are friends, from Romania". She said that in the same way you'd imagine aliens coming to earth and introducing themselves to humans: "we. are. friends." - to you; treat us like we are humans, like all of you. It felt as if we were in a world still where being Romanian was not good enough; at least not as great as being English. But she seemed proud in some way; she had a fearless aura around her as she walked confidently on her feet holding my hand. We turned right going uphill on this paved road which was bordered by flowers to the right, and to my left you were walking. A step behind and to the middle of the road, as if - if anything were to happen - if we somehow slipped backwards or a car came driving by, you were there to protect.

And then we stopped on a bench by the sea; it was so hot. She and I were sat down and you were standing up facing us, telling a story. I couldn't hear the words in my dream, though your lips were moving. I could not hear anything for a moment, I just observed you with the sun shining from behind you. You looked like you were truly happy, if one can imagine that in a dream; the white tee shirt you wore contrasted so beautifully on your skin darkened by the sun in this city. I looked to my right, she was eating an ice cream; a cone with one white ice ball. Then I looked up again. You opened a bottle of sparkling water to drink from, but in the course of your story forgot about its fizziness and it splashed your face. We laughed. Her laughter pierced through that moment of absolute silence like lightning pierces air; so delicate yet mighty. You laughed with us too; you had not shaved for a day or so, and your dimples were showing, contouring your smile.

Then wiped your face with your forearm, and smiling, you bent over and kissed me on the lips. You looked me in the eyes and briefly laughed again. You then turned and stepped to the left and kissed her forehead; she was now eating her ice cream again. I woke up.

Life is too short for some

When you die, I will die too. I don't seek to live a long life, but one rich in adventures with some truly majestic moments. Embarking upon this journey, I'd hate to live every day as ordinary, for I have so little time.

I want us to be partners in this life, and parents to other humans; to teach them by example that life is precious and one should seek adventure even when it means bearing the costs; postulate forward that human relationships are the essence, and not acquisition of status.
One should desire the accumulation of knowledge for their own journey, and not stepping on the footsteps of a system. Because knowledge through education is the greatest gift one can award himself with. The only other one is freedom. To be free to dream with an untainted innocence, that cannot be taught - perhaps inherited.

Our children, we'll build them wings to fly and smile at them from the ground; when they fall, we'll make sure to catch them, no matter how high.

Our sanctuary will be as wide as it needs to be to nurture growth and development. We will build an indestructible nest to come home to, regardless of the challenges one faces every day. You and I, together we can build the future.

And when all that is established, I fear no death. For life without you can never truly be whole, and my heart belongs with you, wherever you are.

There is zero doubt in my mind, I was born to realise something extraordinary.

Up until this summer, I was convinced my fate was to change the world; through law, or voluntary work, or something along those lines. I have always assumed my contribution will be manifested through the prism of the United Nations; thus my greatest dream was to work for the United Nations.

Now, having worked for the UN, I doubt myself. Not because my views have ever so slightly changed about the majestic nature of the institution; that belief still runs through my veins.

It is me who changed.

Having met the one person who made me feel less isolated - perhaps I should explain...

Last summer I failed myself in a way I can never redress. I knew I was sinking, told everyone I was sinking, nobody believed me but one person. And this person still believed in me until the very last moment.

However, part of me felt it is ok to fail, perhaps solely to prove to everyone else I was correct. I was surrounded by the highest of expectations, which in fact, I build for myself. No one ever pressured me to be more than I can be, to achieve more than I could aspire to; I challenged myself to be that person. And when I felt tired, and I needed help, nobody offered their help because they all knew I could do it.

It infuriated me. And it also saddened me to the point of despair.

It was truly comforting to meet someone who made me feel less isolated in my thoughts, as if I was not alone against the world. From that point onwards, I began to wonder whether my destiny isn't to be somebody for someone.

Perhaps I was born to be somebody extraordinary to another human being.

What is the point of living if not establishing meaningful relationships with other human beings? Career is superfluous and has an ephemeral satisfaction to it.

I have the capacity to be the most driven person I know, but what's the point of it? I am interested in more basic things, with a greater fulfilment level than any job can ever offer. Others say I lowered my expectations, while I think they contrary.

Why would you seek anything else in life other than love?

Sure, love does not pay your bills or bring you status, but one cannot take fortune or titles to their grave. We are born and then we die; and life is nothing but the accumulation of memories.

Perhaps I am mistaken in my beliefs, but I want my memories to be shaped by people who have themselves shaped my life in a manner I could never truly repay them. I do not seek status, though I am driven towards establishing one.

New Year's Resolution

Yes, just one. 

I will not pretend that 2015 is an entirely different moment in time where I can simply decide what to let go of from 2014, and what to adopt for the next twelve months. What I will do however, is chose to become a stronger person.

In my pursuit of greatness, I simply must be more adequately prepared to face whatever challenges I encounter. I have been indulgent enough to allow myself some time to be at the bottom of the sea, but the time has come for me to swim again. 

I feel the gargantuan weight of an ultimatum. I have been walking along the blade of a knife for months now, waiting to fall; for the first time since then, I feel I can jump off safely and carry on walking on solid ground. 

Simultaneously, it feels I am on a train ride and my stop is coming up next: I need to get off, or I'm stuck on the train to wherever it will take me. But somehow, I am glued to the seat. 

The only thing holding me back is fear. Perhaps ordinary, but I do not fear the unknown; I fear those things I know the taste of. 

And then again, what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. What hasn't poisoned me, can only taste sweeter with every bite. 

Decision making has been troublesome for me during this time, but the one thing I know beyond shadow of doubt is that I do not want to lay my head on your pillow and make believe you love me one more time. 

We fell in love, despite our differences; and once we did, something sublime was created. I would loathe for it to die because I did not have the strength to rip myself off that seat. 

Perhaps peculiar to many, but for those struggling with depression, the perspective of swimming in a sea of despair is a comforting zone. Opportunity doesn't knock twice, so I'm getting off at the next stop.