Every summer after my volleyball experience ended (about 3 years) I spend my hilodays at someone’s countryhouse, dacha I mean! First it was Zayaz’s – hot parties, music (poor neighbours), drive, lots of alcohol, boys, fun, drugs, madding. Then Nicola_Vulgare – long talks ‘bout life, love (doesn’t exist), essense, sense, rubbish, soul. Now it’s Andrew’s – empty cottage, one air-bed (now broken), gnats, scent of paint, nature.

 What next?? Whoose dacha it will be? Or it’ll stop?

All three houses are near, Zayaz, next station Andrew, next Nicola. One via. It makes me think… coincidence… or my life-rout… my progress (or regress) on the map. Ha-ha-ha. Logic and veiled sense like in K. Mansfield works, I mean no logic and no sense)))

But according to this fucking philosophy it’s rather regress cause

Time: Zayaz – Nicola – Andrew

Distance: Zayaz – Andrew – Nicola

So as it clearly stands out – this year REGRESS.

Fuck, having read all that, I came to the conclusion

Пора заканчивать читать так много Палланика)