It is silent in the room. I have remains the excitement in my head. It tries to think big. Pathetic films allow me to hover above the routine and ponder about life. Immediately things like a choice of bread or fish become pointless. Such rubbish doesn’t matter. I try to fumble an approach to life, the majors are somewhere in the air. I need to catch it. I need a big view on everything, I mean really big not just perspective in the frames of my own life.

Too long I was thinking in limits of my own life, of the practical questions. I want to be myself, to like what I like and not compromise with people. I don’t like outer “trying” to understand in order to be confirmed by society. I won’t “accept” things I do not accept. Different people, different opinions, tastes. I mean I won’t fake acceptance.

The main thing I want is to live my own life, not someone’s else. It certainly contains theatres, films, and other arts, it contains that emotional impact attempts to understand, estimate things through thinking. And I shouldn’t be ashamed by my obsession with fictional feelings, abstract and unpractical matters. I shouldn’t feel any shame for my positive feelings about minor things, however strange or antisocial it looks like. That’s me.

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