pre-holiday writings

This was the day before the holiday.
At the morning I went to the Uni for lesson and talked with the girl the most of time at the break. Her manner to speak too open seems me a bit childish. And she doesn’t think or just tell about their study as ambiguous as it could be. (And what time I found myself angry with the college and life) Anyway the group of pupils in the study was very schoolish. I mean children who afraid of any phrase and spend the break with cellphones rather than talking with each other. Even though we got some fanny talk during the way back.
At the midday there was the process of cleaning flat up. Nothing special, but my pallete left the spot at the balcony and I had to rub it. (Creative activity destroys clean order)
Then we began the hardest part of the day, I mean purhases for New Year eve. Yesterday I made the list but today mom had been going so chaotic, with distractions and fast changes. It was hard and boring to carry things home. In the supermarket I enjoyed steering the hand cart and observing the work of enveloping machines. But it had been the same chaotic process without the concrete leader. It is so diffucult to persist on some purchases you know as I don’t pay for anything and the crisis in this area. But she doesn’t speak presicely.
The other point is that there is no New Year spirit in the cheap markets among ignorant people. That’s all so down-to-earth, so predictable boring. But I like to observe sellers anywhere. In the household chemicals’ store there were so uneducated, vulgar seller as the market’s area be commonly. The same was at the butcher shop where two sellers changed their mind about price just because of neighbour’s greed or stabborness.
In one word, I do not like local markets. If I’d choose it would be a small good shop with delicious goods and polite service.
Oh, let’s keep silence about wishes. I’d like average thick tree with elegant decoration, french cooking and everything is in the wood house at the mountains among friends and family. This is why I don’t like to figure dreams out. Reality loses its taste.
I’ve written too much to be justified.


The second day I painted the still life. It was ok, until it began to be grey dirty colour. And yes, I’ve remembered immediately that painting isn’t easy thing to make it fine. The other thing I remembered is that it’s so tedious to work after dinner.

After dinner some power drew me out of the flat. I couldn’t sit in front of the screen and write my great deal of essays. And I went out in the best condition of soul to damn streets.

It turned out that making my exercises at further McD’s is so cozy. People around are real, with real passions and boredom. I could hear to two girl of fifteen, one told another that she’s her only friend and nobody would connect with her in hard times. (Typical teenagers)

Meanwhile, I started again to write morning pages and have already some clarification in my mind.

There has been the seven essays for literature in my word file since yesterday. But I’ve still been at the beginning of the curriculum and already afraid of having no time to do. Though I want to have New Year vocation with films, books and mulled wine.

Touching New Year. There is still none gift for anyone on my desk.What’s wrong? The idea of handmade gifts demands time and discipline to make all, and bought gifts aren’t available now. I have no idea what to give my mom.

But the truth is that girls will come from Moscow and evidently we’re going to meet. So I must think completely about this. Buy or make something.



outstanding day in the tipography

I completely forgot how was it – feel after working day.

Mom asked me to help to the designer with the order as the second one was ill. As usual with her it appeared a long day with several pauses. Zhenya was friendly as usual though I heard her displausure about work. It’s unchangable and her little garland is the only New Year decoration in the cluttered office. I could not work there and be inspired every day in such muss.

At the dinner break I did a little trip to the other district and percieved the cold weather fully. Evidently it’s the winter.

There was much delay and I went home and back instead of working. Finally we got our film for laminating and I had all pages done.

Simultaniously there remains only two weeks before New Year day and street are decoratated a bit. In crisis style.

About my friendship (as a shit)

This all is like being in greyness. The middle of December in the provincial town without sufficient connections to laugh on jokes and come out with ideas.

I don’t want to say I feel lonely (it’s not true) but I want to say I feel forgotten by exact person I thought as a best friend – N. This crack spoils the picture. I send her a letter as we talked on this in facebook, but neither answer nor her own letter or a stroke of text – nothing. Like only me is interested in this relation. And my not moving on is the plausible pretext to break off ties. The first week after I wrote letter and hadn’t recieved any answer I thought very straight about all of this. But now when I feel bored and tired of the December (common thing) I try to find a warm piece in my heart to heat and can’t. I’m angry with this.

There is the jewish saying: Don’t pour the dirty water until the fresh one hasn’t come. And yes I have not the fresh water, but the dirty one in out of here too.

So, the decision I made was to stay friendly and polite, but away. I must be stronger than now to overcome such silly obstacle as december’s splin and than to get fresh water of my life.

People do us stronger or weaker but we shouldn’t be so dependent of them.

Fabilous evening.

It was miraclous day and especially evening.
We met with Lena to watch the film “Macbeth”. She was sitting at the cafe and writing something in the notebook. I came with smile and did great deal of jokes to make the air easy. Her new work is on the local sweet’s factory and she was ashaming while speaking it. I said her there was nothing to be shamed of. We talked much about different things and even about our relationships with girls of the group. And as usual self-improvement.
The film was great. Yes, great. It was like an integral piece of art. Scottish-like music, dark foggy landscapes and the fabilous work of actor with immortal text of Shakespeare. I enjoyed every moment, every picture and sound for the whole two and half of an hour. There were philosophy of destiny and the man who drove crazy by destiny. There were bones and blood as wall as poetry and beauty. The world of windy, deserty land where mistery steeps into life unwillingly.
But the other part of delight had been after the watch. I began to praise the film and wag hands. The woman of thirty spoke with us too and soon we went in touch. It turned out that she graduated our college years ago and tryed to enter the Academy, but failed. She took me great advice of girl who had already made mistake. To try again, to move into the capitals and enter the university’s life before the entrance’s exams. (And that this is the whole system of applying known people not strangers, despite real result). Her description of local life was pessimistic. There is no chance to earn enough money with creativity and ways of development are making money or making family. That was so great push. For me it was a voice of …. universe. And I was glad to take her advice to go and take photo of her pictures in the college during the year.
The rest of the meet we exclaimed about the film with emotional tones. We were unbearable inspired and talked much on the bus stop until she drove away. At home I was out of sense and exclaimed to mom too. This was the wonderful fruitful evening I spent with the nice girls, with great filmmaking artist and with the stranger.