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From the airport in paris [Aug. 23rd, 2006|04:04 am]
I was expecting, that maybe if I didn't go to sleep, this day wouldn't come. If you don't go to sleep, how can morning turn to day and evening and night and then again a new morning, a new day? You haven't allowed for the secret time when the calendar changes to go by unnoticed, you don't allow it to be secret, how then can it keep going, opening up it's secret? I haven't written here all summer despite plans otherwise, but time never gave me the right moment. And now... now time is completely non-sensical. How do I talk about this summer, about these last seven short short weeks in Russia? What can one say about finding, in a foreign country, in a foreign language, the strongest and most искреный friendship I have known?

Constant announcements about outlawed liquids are not helping me write. Sometime, in some quiet place, I will write more about this.