What game we play when we are sitting at the messy hostel room with the chocolate cake and some fruits? Why the burning sun lights the faces and makes them laught again and again? The thin clothes-line cross the room as we sit by the parts of Russia we are from. The blonde girls are neighing like some fifteen year old teenagers at the school break. The remains of the cake left at the table and nobody wants more. It’s impossible to look out of the window without being blind. The boy is sitting almost calm in the black sweater. Jokes are hard to explain or understand and impossible to laugh with some presence of mind. No more sweet meal. The girl with the brakets is washing up and talking to me the same time. Are there enough reasons for being here? The boy mentions the black and white movie, some talk about other films I haven’t watch yet.
At the staircase boys are smoking, the girl is eating remained piece of cake and we basically die laughing about ideas for a tale. The scriptwriter boy looks strange talking about Griffins and Russian series. The smell of cigarettes is hard to endure. They put out them with the ceramic plate. Lots of laugh. My speech about social media networks and internet as a driver for changes in minds. Good speech.
The room is full of air and it is fresh though the water is still terrible. The stomach is hurt as well as teeth. No sketches today, no painting, just planning and looking out of the window. There will be a new laptop soon.