no anesthesia, pls.

If the fact that I dated a girl unable to love anybody back, an ex-prisoner, a junkie or a sociopath, wasn't a sufficient proof of my masochism, nobody should have any doubts now that I have a crush on my dentist.

it's not up to you

hi.
today, I'm gonna show you something pretty.

nice, uh? simple pleasures can significantly improve the quality of your life. riding a bike, eating ice-cream with a bunch of funny people are just an example. living carefully, enjoying exercises, developing love for healthy food, finding one's creative hobbies, being honest with yourself and kind to other people.

it's pretty but it's a lie.

one can live one's life honestly, despite the society's traditional views; one can be careful and reflective about their everyday life; one can travel quite a lot and be open and kind in their interpersonal relations.
but honestly,
it won't bring you money. it won't bring you people with whom you have real connection and mutual understanding. venturing into new places won't necessarily help you find yourself, it may actually cause the opposite thing to happen -- being lost and unassisted causes feelings of being upset and miserable.
by the way, not all feelings are beautiful. some of them are like a black dog. like a sediment on your heart. like a bitter sting. some feelings are never worth experiencing.
it is not easy to change your job. it is not up to you what kind of people you encounter -- more of coincidence, actually.
a bike ride and ice-cream can make your spirits rise, but the road to happiness takes more than five steps seemingly derived from Paulo Coelho's books.
life is not simple.
there are both easily achievable pleasures and deep dark states of mind where ice-cream won't really make any difference.
I don't like the modern urban shallow philosophy lying to people that if they are an average middle-class folks, with food to eat and fairly good health, and they still can't find themselves happy, then it's their problem -- but they are almost there, cause it's sooo easy.
it's not. never been.
I'm not saying we should all stay in and cry. I am active and will encourage anybody to try the same.
but I can only decide what I give, but it's not up to me what I get given.

busy until further notice

sometimes I wonder why I ever leave home and expose myself to social situations that make anxieties eat my stomach.

I could just stay in, listen to Zemfira and read books.

learning things, new encounters, diversity of activities -- all sound nice, but looks like the costs have just exceeded the goals.

http://media.photobucket.com/image/alone%20post%20secrets/SmoothCriminal_photos/Post%20Secrets/alone.jpg

Не мы такие, жизнь такая

Page one.

Kiev, Andriyivskyy Descent, October 20^th.

Yesterday I saw Diana Arbenina live for the first time. She comes out and says: don’t wait for any support, just live your life. As if she was saying this to me. And then just as if she was singing my lines: I can’t, I can’t take it any more.

Andriyivskyy Descent. I have smoked two sobranies: a purple one and a pistachio-green one.

Green tea, gloves that I bought yesterday with T and P.

I was a bit afraid to be alone in a big city that I don’t know at all. And now it feels like it’s what I needed: a few stains of sunlight, yellowed linden tree, empty tables. Green tea and cigarettes make good company. They never judge, never watch. Never assume.

The wind gets up.

Page two.

Invariably, the difficulty of interpersonal communication is caused by the secrets of the other person; secrets which, if learnt with empathy, would break your heart, make you understand and justify the harsh behavior full of fear and withdrawal. But remaining unknown, the secrets make us attribute each move against the other person or protecting one’s own face to nothing but bad will. But it’s all not about us, but about life. Life that’s hard, dark, with very few glimmers. Sad and lonely. Addictive. 

Yes, I am a nolife.

But it's all because Ellen's shows are available online.