weekend and death

Being quarreled with my mom about countryside works we are in the different rooms now. It is so usual that I even have no desire to write on this point.
Maybe our unplesant morning with that kind of pressure distort a common mood for the day. I should be work hard on colour sketches and learn a theme for exam. The both of them have been done but not so good as I wanted to have. At midday it had already been a weakness and head spinning, low pressure. The classical package. The “Woody Allen. Documentary” film made me hovering a little with all that real unreality. He said wisely: “The one thing aparts me from the greatness is myself”. Even if it is not meant greatness but something the best this is very true. We are the only obstacle in front of us. (Oh I am so tired with all my pathetic words!!)
En route to the tennis with some reason I thought about death. In fact the day I die will be happened sometimes. Strange thing that I will die but much buildings I like would be on their places. Something will stay here.
Moments I like are when we play good tennis and feel some progress and when I go home so tired but very energetic and alive.

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