philosophical fury

F*ck it. They f*ck me up. I m f*cked up. I m f*ucked up with this f*cking system. This Steel(-coin) Curtain. This Mafia. I cant believe that for exploring the world futher them my country I have to crush to political “troubles” and then – money “troubles” they beat me with smiling smugly.

They fuck me up

We live through it in different way. I was sitting in library overfilled with unreal plans and anger (that one which destroy from inside). I was mixing philosophic termins from the book with the most dirty words I don’t usually use, this wonderful inheritance of my tatarian past. I ran outside to find her smoking nervously under the rain with tears on her face.

Reread it again, please:

“meeting conflict, contradiction – is not the signal to hysteric. Is MUST be a signal to use all the power and resources to Pass it”.

Forget about it, Fei said in French cafeteria where I was eating cheese watching myself up in the ceiling.

That was 10^th hour I was crushing myself.

I came back home and we started. We had our head, we had internet, we had anger enough and – what the most important – we had wish enough.

At 3 30 we composed a plan which was may be one of the most complicated I ever used to reach a country.

But we made up a way. Let us try to use it.

I m ready to agree with each single world of Chaadaev “philosophical letter”, this disappointed paper of powerless anger. I m ready to write my own! But this time nobody declare me “Mad” and imprison me. (well, very very probably!).