today i thought that my irrational desire to go to moscow, or stay in the hostel, or come to lewis, is a mind's reaction to tough times and fear. my stressed, tensed body demands peace and comfort, which, as it remebres, was with close people and familiar environment. the desire to smoke is the same. my soul wants me to soothe this vibrating discomfort.

i am freaking out for no apparent reason. god, will i ever calm the fuck down? will i ever stop talking to them in my head, will i ever find enough strength to say enough?