Sunday between winter and spring

Sunday. I’ve never loved this day in spite I was born on this one. Since yesterday despondency’s reach me, made me slowly, thoughtful etc. Now I’m listening fanny music and trying to awake my core. It matters nothing if the college pulls me into depression. It doesn’t matter too if I’m not inspired and not ready to desire mointains. I really feel tired and annyance from my live as it is. It is the sping with its desire to change everything, to make a routine new breath. Or just avitaminosis. On the whole we’ve bought some blouses and waste money in new pizzeria. 

I hadn’t done all I planned to do and to my pity unwillingness to do that either hadn’t left room of my soul. 

Some of Esher’s works.



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