Hey,

some of my friends are getting really mad. Some of my acquinted too... Maybe you should stop here, reador, and ask yourself: Is that me she talking about?

Our little boy with funny gestures and big soul, we were laughing at him, but loved, like he is a child... With everybody I felt like his advisor, some sort of. And now I can tell - it's lack for little good-guy-company for him. Maybe, it requires specifically you. Don't know, who reads. You know! You can, I know, hear me. All of you. I am loud.)

Maybe you, reador, is all in your trobles yourself. Will it draw away your attention from badness to help strayed and hopeless?..

And a gift to me...some poetry in my head at both Russian and English... Paper! Pen!!

Soon. very soon. 

Pleh mih.