I’m tired of wandering this 70-step “can” and waiting for some miracle to help me deal with emotions and mental state.

I get tired of seeking help when everything that is and is expensive, disappears under the virus or tactlessness or unwillingness to work. I know we’re all overwhelmed and I feel more and more like the shit of a fucking screw.

I’m tired of waiting for things to end because it seems to me that it will end so easily, neither for me nor for others. I want to move on somewhere further again, even though I know it’s impossible, but I’m really looking forward to it.

I’m tired of waiting for some good news, even though everything is so turned into noise that you don’t know what’s real, and what’s just the “cry” of social media is as everything now seems like just a bubble blowing, and no one will see who and how much they earn (will earn).

70 steps drive me to despair and I once thought of jumping from the balcony where I am now sitting and writing this scribble. I am driven to despair by the fact that my friend A.D finds himself in isolation, even though he had no strong contact anywhere to get infected. I think it’s a mistake and that the test was wrong, even though no one wants to tell the truth. Or maybe just, they aren’t, and my friend, the conspirator, is (was) right.

I’m tired and don’t know what to do next, sometimes it hurts me, sometimes (like now) I go crazy. I don’t know what the world will be like tomorrow because already today things are going nowhere, and I don’t want to end everything without looking at what will be next – and anything can be further