Tomorrow lecture about Lermotov datained me with literature’s teacher up to four hours. After my repitition she spoke me much about litretature, country, poets. As she excused for her outpooring I said my traditional way of answer. “It’s OK I’m good listener”. A lot of thing she said I could to reply but didn’t do.

The day was good as I felt energy and deserve to paint our nude stage. I finally covered my underpainting colour with strokes. Long time after my pouring into body’s colour we got break. It’s such a fanny kind of life’s way to continue to listen dull talk but not with the same keen face. I have a freedom to be strange and to be myself.

I dreamt about sleep sleeping and get up with sun lighting through the window. Two degrees instead of minus seven. Little dizzy inner.

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