It must be pretty weird to see a 25yo girl screaming her lungs out ‘cause she got lego for her birthday. But you know what, I don’t care. Mum bought me Jek-14’ Stealth Starfighter, total surprise and like come on dad, I’m just happy, deal with it.
Yeah, my mum was quite thoughtful this year. On the other hand, my dad got me a green Yunnan tea from Oxalis which is this really low quality tea shop. Since I’m teanazi, who spends ridiculous amount of money on high quality tea it does not make any sense. But whatever, today is good. And that’s quite unusual for birthday, since I normally almost hate those. But this year’s good so far.
… you are my favorite Simon’s cat. Sleeping and eating, moody and playful, grumpy and mischievous. Just a true cat. And I… I’m the kitten.
Let me tell you one thing. Waking up straight to a panic attack sucks. Breathe in. Breath out. Nope, still sucks.
Last two days were weird and almost unreal. Too much has happened. But I did not loose my integrity. My principals. I had to deal with some crap, but I did not loose myself in that process. So, I have some new knowledge about human nature and actually, about myself and all that stuff. Yeah. Well… I’m still me. And although I have met some jerks that only wanted to use me, I was able to put that behind me, close that chapter and look only forward. It could have been worse for sure.
Oh Tatyana, what the hell are you doing? Little (or not), weird and for some time suppressed rant that has no meaning at all and it’s not affected by up-to-date events.
I often feel like some heroine from 19th century Russian novel, which is actually quite disturbing and absolutely not as poetic or romantic as it sounds like. Nah, in this case my long-time prospect’s would not be that good.
I could choose between depressive train obsession, passionate (aka pathological and compulsive) letter writing, settling down with kind-of-a-simpleton, moving to freaking Siberia (because love conquers all, even freezing cold apparently), ending up like a fickle and tremendously naive girl who loves the wrong guy and idealizes the life of birds (oh, the freedom and no boundaries… moving every six months to other side of the planet, because it’s… cold again), or I could fetch up like one elderly madam, seriously unable to accept reality, stuck in the past and overly protective about her glamorous trees. Right.
So every time I have this strange feeling that my life is trying to be a piece of Russian romanticism or realism (and yes, I actually quite like these troubled authors) I quickly turn to the reality, not letting myself to dwell on jealousy, envy, love, hate, self-doubt or whatever crap is going on right then. And, of course literally, I rise, Bright Eyed and Bushy Tailed, prepared to do some shit in this world. Or at least I try.