Sick. Hate it. Too much time alone with myself. Too much time to think. Sometimes I just want to be really blond, dumb blond. I think too much. I analyze too much. And it always brings me to the same corner- nowhere.  This is russian soul, something that any foreigner will never understand. Dont try. I can cry and smile, i can smile crying, i can laugh and then cry...no way i dont need a doctor, it is just me..russian soul....

what is in my head now?

snow, tea with milk, black and white, rain, yellow leaves, my house at Tanjong Ria, the window, lotsa tears, my Panda, my love, dad, starbucks, Natasha, Geneva, last day in Geneva, Bridge in Geneva, planes, sky, grey sky...