sometimes i think i should never speak to anyone ever again

i went to the 24/7 shop
to fill the void
to feel the void fill with CO2
can something be considered full if it’s full of gas?
if yes, then my life is full of whatever the chemical formula for air is.
good thing i know that vacuum wouldn’t feel any better.

i came home to an empty apartment, to my empty room, dark and lukewarm (just as you are)
without a sound i put the only cure i have on fire
surprisingly, it didn’t hurt.
at least, it didn’t hurt more.

lying on the stone cold floor i remember being so very afraid seeing your eyes for the first time ever
what a miracle, seeing the eyes of a dead person on someone living
the red-lidded black void

who am i kidding,
it hurts like a motherfucker
being rejected
on at least two levels


- 20 nov 2016

Закрытая запись, не предназначенная для публичного просмотра

universe, what the actual fuck, please don't make me relive the most pathetic part of my life, please let me redo it because i'd fucking love to

я сегодня проснулся в пять вечера и мне очень грустно
и я опять влюбляюсь в каких-то людей и сталкерю их и от этого мне еще грустнее
мне кажется, я слишком много времени провожу в интернете

it took me several years,
with hours of bad therapy, a shitload of prescription drugs,
a dozen of naked neighbours spotted in the windows of the block opposite mine while smoking on the balcony,
seven healed cuts on a place i’ve never shown to anyone,
a million stiff smiles,
a hundred bottles of wine drunk all by myself,
countless sleepless nights, weeks i barely remember,
an album never written and recorded, songs never sung to those who they really were for,
a couple of relationships never meant to work out,
friends, lost and found, some dead and some living,
limbs, broken and mended,
hopes, and fears, and expectations never met, chances blown,
hair grown, then cut, then grown again,
a fuckload of fuckups, minor and major,
a number of shitty jobs, hated to a certain extent, some well-paid, some not so much,
eating skin off my fingers,
eating out in fancy cafes but never the person i was there with,
making a house become a home,
with blank white walls and white furniture and an old tv painted white just to fit in
and now i finally got used to living alone
and i’m unafraid
and i want to face the future
with a smile on my face, ready for the fight.
and maybe i still need time to process all this shit,
but i’ve never felt better, and i’ve never felt so good all by myself,
and thank goodness gravity keeps everything in place so i don’t have to pick up the pieces after every breakdown,
and i’m whole,
and i’m never coming back.

...aaand it's gone.
я не спала всю ночь, читала старые записи, ужасалась от того, что со мной сейчас происходит, и мои умозаключения привели меня к тому, что здесь было лучше. что я делаю не так.
Катя Несмеянова - это я.

все спокойно и довольно хорошо, как всегда: потихоньку, ничего выдающегося не случается и случаться не собирается. есть своя прелесть в этом, наверное.

лето заканчивается больным горлом под Хорошо темперированный клавир, и все очень даже неплохо, наверное.

провал! еще провал!