Friendship is being able to tell how fcking terrible you feel and describe all your awful thoughts to a person who disappeared from your life for half a year, but no hard feelings at all. She is the only one to actually understand.

Listening to Nick Cave, because I've suddenly found out he has other cool songs apart from "Oh children" from Harry Potter.

Thinking about how these winter holidays were an endless chain of eating-sleeping-playing computer games, and how I might be entering a new period of my life. It could be a fresh start, although it's cheap symbolism, of course, to think that a new year means anything at all. But what if?

Do I have the strength to start anew? I feel something changing, just slightly, or maybe these changes have already happened and now I start seeing more clearly. I don't know.

But I feel cozy. Calm. That's unexpected.

Chiquitita, tell me what's wrong
You're enchained by your own sorrow
In your eyes there is no hope for tomorrow

How I hate to see you like this
There is no way you can deny it
I can see that you're oh so sad, so quiet

Chiquitita, tell me the truth
I'm a shoulder you can cry on
Your best friend, I'm the one you must rely on

You were always sure of yourself
Now I see you've broken a feather
I hope we can patch it up together

Chiquitita, you and I know
How the heartaches come and they go and the scars they're leavin'
You'll be dancing once again and the pain will end
You would have no time for grievin'

Chiquitita, you and I cry
But the sun is still in the sky and shinin' above you
Let me hear you sing once more like you did before
Sing a new song, Chiquitita

Try once more like you did before
Sing a new song, Chiquitita

ABBA, Chiquitita

I guess this is what is called an identity crisis. I don't belong with my country anymore, but I have nobody to connect to in a new country as well. I have no idea how to celebrate Christmas, but I only want to listen to listen to the same new year songs from USSR, just because they remind me of my careless childhood and deliver a sliver of that happiness.

As a child, I didn't have a lot of music, so our new year playlist consistet mostly of ABBA and the Beatles + soviet songs, and it just felt right. Every time I hear these I am brought back to that cozy past where everything was perfect.

I would like to become a new person, but I have no idea how. Now I can only mourn the life I had to leave behind, see how my family is enjoying the new year parties, exchanging presents and singing those songs together.

I am not alone, and I know it. I have a wonderful person next to me. And we both have made this decision. It doesn't make it hurt less though.

Highly recommend, really.

Every time I browse Pinterest in search of images of characters, I think about all those imaginary personalities I could borrow. A white-skinned feminine tiefling with a flute, a squat and wide-shouldered gnome artificer wearing a steampunk armor, a rogue high elf moving stealthily through tree branches… So many stories I could explore.

Make a new reality come true. The best and most beautiful kind of escapism.

I am not sure if it's retrograde Mercury, or simply tricks of my personal universe. A person who keeps appearing in my life and then lying low for a year or so again, turns up again with "can we be friends again?". At the same day as a few years ago.

There were so many stages of acceptance, so many thoughts and a caleidoscope of emotions from hope, joy and exhilaration to sadness. fury and depression. Once I was able to say "no" and close this door forever (or so I thought), thinking I was behaving like an adult finally. Pain and frustration passed long ago, leaving just scars, but making me grow.

I would like to say I don't think about "what if..." anymore, but seeing this message brought a whirlpool of thoughts again. What if? Could I maybe start anew? This time - openly. Without hiding, twisted excuses, being secretive. Asking my husband if he could say "yes" to my resuming communication with a person who nearly destroyed our marriage. This was a stupid thought, albeit I entertained it for some time. He will never accept and never forgive. The wound might be old, but it won't heal. I have to respect that and face the consequences of my choices.

Personally, I would forgive, though. I actually bear no grudges against those girls who I saw as my rivals and who were a constant source of my frustration for a very, very long time. I guess I have grown older. This is probably another moment for me to prove this. No matter how it still aches to keep radio silence for such a long time (I am not fond of blocking people), I can't. I just can't risk it again. Let's accept this is just impossible.

I can't be your friend. I can't let you into my life. Sorry.

Goodbye. This time forever, I guess.

They say "sport and physical activity are good for your mental health". You think "go fck yourself, I don't want to move, I want to lie on my bed watching the ceiling all day, nothing will help me".

Then you go to the gym.

Damn.

It does help. I feel tired, but better, surprisingly. Why is the best advice so difficult though

Suddenly it occurred to me that I must write my own biography. Like from the very beginning, starting with the earliest memories. Desribe all the beautiful things, pivotal moments that happened to me and put down all chaotic and meaningless memories living in my head rent free.

No, I am not a celebrity and will never be. My life won't ever pique anybody's interest, except for the closest people. But! I am almost 30, and I understand that I will eventually forget so much. There are things I want to forget, but there are many more, so many more that I don't.

Actually, my life is a wonder. A story with so many plot twists, so many incredible characters who taught me a lot. Although I am down in the dumps now, this retrospect could be so damn helpful.

Also. I will have kids one day. I personally would love to have a chance to peek into my parents' past. What they were thinking about when they were young? Who influenced them? When did their life took fateful turns? I think when I have kids I will write about their childhood, too. About all goofy and touching moments. I will keep their handmade stuff, letters and paintings, just like my mum did. Now we can keep it all in a digital way, which is cool. So apart from my bio, I will start writing theirs. Isn't it a TRULY fantastic idea? To remember it all. To remember all that makes us what we are.

• thinking that "traveling is the best thing in life / it recharges you / it helps you forget things / it helps you relax". I probably have had enough traveling for the last 3 years (4 countries), and now I can confidently say that it is a nice little hobby, nothing more. It won't make you happy in the long term and won't change your life. It is not so deep.

• "men are good / women are stupid" and "women are cool, men are stupid" and stuff like that. I can't express how furious I am when I hear BS like this. Can we just… disrespect stupid people as a species? Without labeling them based on their gender? I have a feminist friend who keeps drilling my brain with her inexplainable aggression towards men. Girl… I know many more decent and cool men than women, but it is my personal experience, and I never say we should exterminate any of them just because a sad story happened to us. How can you, an educated person who is able to think critically, be so narrow-minded and so terribly judgemental? Let's hate awful people and let's agree that normal and good people exist.

• writing hateful comments under posts and videos. Just plain idiotic. You can never come across as an intellectual if you do this, ever.

• trying to show your naked body to everyone in social nets. So pathetic. You can say what you want, like you do it for yourself, and all that. But be honest, you are an attetion junkie. Did you have a childhood trauma? Did parents neglect you? No father figure?

• downplaying your opponent's points in an argument by "where did you find this BS? It is just not true!" instead of giving valid counter-arguments to refute this point. I haven't met ANYBODY who is actually able to argue in a calm and productive way, which would make an argument useful for both sides. The only thing I hear is "what you say is wrong" and over-emotional behaviour.

• putting your blind trust to authorities. Like… really? Living in an information bubble in the 21th century is a crime. NEVER trust what they say on TV or government-affiliated media.

• thinking that you are ugly or fat and/or doing plastic surgery or botox duck lips or a face that can't move and express any emotions at all. It always looks terrible and makes you look older and like a cheap whore, the only exception being medical reasons. Is it a conspiracy? Am I the only one who sees how awful it really is? And they say you should start at 30 because you start getting older. Go fck yourself. Women are always beautiful on their own when they are healthy and happy. At any age.

I said what I wanted

Frantic daily scrolling during the last 2-3 years has taken its toll definitely. I probably have ADHD: I can hardly continue doing one activity without peeking into my phone or checking the news. I can't focus on writing essays or doing anything that requires thorough thinking for a long time, only when I have a tight deadline. This is actually rather pitiful. I need a big conscious effort to stop getting distracted, although I used to be super efficient once. When life looked so exciting. Bring me back to those times in 2019-2020, before the world was fucked up completely.

Do I need these news? No. I am safe, as safe as I can be. But I start every morning with it anyway. Even if the whole continent goes boom, then what can I do anyway? The only accomplishment will be "I was one of the first to know". Absurd. My husband doesn't understand why I keep reading the news, being on a different continent entirely and as far from the thick of things as possible.

My ex-boss keeps writing to me with offers to continue working together. I have plunged deeply into gaming, reading and doing absolutely nothing. So the idea of really working is… somehow strange and embarrassing at the same time. I haven't been doing anything really productive for months. And I realize that real work would probably be VERY good for my mental health. But I was so exhausted this spring that I can't help feeling abject fear when I open WhatsApp, because I expect thousands of chats with numerous problems to solve and new worries to haunt me at night. Am I really that sensitive that just three months in a position that I am not fit for has made me into a panick-stricken and unbalanced animal that shrinks back when it comes to work?

I feel so angry with everyone for some reason. Really mad. Everyone seems so stupid, so wrong, and I have had two exhausting arguments in one day. Given that I get too excited while arguing, these two were quite… stimulating, too. Infuriating, that is. Why do so many people have such an absurdly wrong and stupid opinion on vital topics?

I know I am wrong to be so angry. It is probably just a sign of how empty and frustrated I actually feel. Maybe I should just confess that I don't feel OK, and stop downplaying my own emotions? I know logically that my life has literally no problems now. But why do I feel so bad then?

Alright, let's break down what we have here:

1. I feel more detached from what I write if I write in English, not in my mothertongue. It kind of helps me see everything from the outside, like a stranger watching, not judging, but contemplating.

2. I feel like a useless piece of shit. To be more exact, I was feeling really down in the dumps, really frustrated and depressed, then I had a week away, which has recharged me a bit, but the fact remains true anyway. Just doesn't hurt as much now.

3. Conflicts with relatives are R E A L L LY infuriating. For many years these conversations keep happening, relentlessly, stubbornly, leaving nothing but smoldering anger behind. I wish people understood the fact that their children are not children anymore and have a legitimate right to live their life.

An interesting remark: I have lived abroad for 3 (three!) years, and the only thing of interest to my family is when I am going to have kids. Not what my life is like. Not what I feel and what I think about. Not what books I read or films that I recently watched. Only when I am going to have babies. Or, alternatively, there are arguments about my stupid generation.

4. I have fallen in love with the city I am living in. I didn't anticipate it because it actually gets lots of hate, and I can compare it with the cities I have recently visited. True, it is not the best. But this week's trip has opened my eyes somehow. The haze is gone, I actually missed the city. It is quaint, cozy and quiet. And beautiful, too. So maybe I was wrong all along, and I still have the chance to love this country and stop second-guessing my life choices.