Text by Me

I see that this blog is becoming more and more some kind of free style.

Cynicism is becoming my number one choice as cope mechanism.

The amount of years I have been playing my favorite video games reminds me that I am probably already old.

I feel like that the goal of daily writing is close to its fulfillment.

A mess is mysteriously spawning in my room always when I am sick.

It's a strangely peaceful feeling to be in a room full of people speaking unknown language.

When I am returning somewhere where I used to spend a lot of time, I feel this need to experience (again) superficial stereotype that is so heavily shaped and biased by nostalgia.

When something is clearly coming to an end, it feels differently compare to feeling in its beginning.

It's a strange feeling to return after a while to somewhere where I used to be daily.

My favorite author published his first book when he was over 25 years old, that calms me down.