Berlín

blegh I hate that fanbases have simplified relationships in ‘shipping’ because I can’t find a lot of good analysis of aglaya and artemy’s relationship that isn’t “do you ship it?”

I have so many complicated feelings about aglaya and artemy and I think they care about each other in their own way, no I don’t think they are good for eachother, yes she loves him even if she’s manipulating him, no she does not love him she’s being manipulated by children, artemy might have a thing for milfs, I can’t call Aglaya’s sudden feelings for Artemy unrealistic because same, Artemy is driven by love for his family while Aglaya hates hers, do they have anything in common other that not liking the polyhedron? it makes no sense and all the sense. They live in an existential nightmare. Are feelings even real?

Powers that Be what are you doing making your dolls kiss

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Silco: "Yall, this battlefield really didn't pass the vibe check"

Sevika: "Jinx, you really have to stop teaching Silco modern slang"

Jinx: "looks like you don't pass the vibe check either, Sevika"

treat yourself like you would treat your favorite character

15.07 UTC+3

You wake up in the air.

You wake up on the last row.

You wake up with an ebook in your hand.

In general, you feel this trip like a distant memory. Separated from you. Even though its hard to recall the conditions so good if you have never experienced them. Wide aisles. Two-courses lunch. Indian half of the plane. Transit. Knees don't abut. Food on specific plates. Metall silverware.

3 hours 15 minutes left. 76% of the phone charge. The stewardess puts a glass of coxe on the table. Not a "cup", but a "glass". We took off two-minutes-to-hour ago.

Look back on the page of Fight Club just to see that the guy's flat exploded during the lunch. Book's in Englsih. As if I'm not fed up with the language after my school year. As if I'm not sick of it. Nervous nausea starts to lighten for the first time in four days.

You wake up on the ground.

You wake up in your bad.

You wake up with knot of hysteria in your stomach

Dad's watching second volume of Deadpool one seat aside from me. Outside it's -52.5° Celsius. I haven't learnt all the Fahrenheit, feet, pounds and value added for goods, which, depending on the state, ranges from 10 to 15 per cent of the price indicated on the price tag (excluding essential products and food in general). Mother's watching a something with Kate Blanchett. After all everything I've heard involuntarily about this actress I got sick after one mention of her.

I haven't slept well since the beginning of the exam week. It's 16 nights. I wake up every threeto four hours and can't calm myself for a long time. Critically insufficient for an organism in stress. Two hours fifty-eight minutes left till the first landing. "The duration of the flight is 4 hours 10 minutes". The Transatlantic twice longer. Girl in front of me is watching "Frozen 2" on Turkish with English subtitles. I worry about Elsa.

You wake up in a liminal space with no time or geotag.

It's 5 am in LA. Means that it's past eight at Godmother's. Good morning, you sleeping beauty! Screen in front of me shows that right now, 15.25 UTC+3, Mecca is on the left if one needs to address. Sore eyes -- adding the on-board-one, there were about five hours if sleep.

You fall asleep in the air.

You fall asleep on the last row.

You fall asleep with an ebook in your hand.

I like to always have at least one nerdy theory that is both visibly, evidently incorrect and also completely impossible to disprove. My last theory was that Rey was Yoda’s daughter. It’s laughably wrong but for a good solid few years there it was also impossible to refute. 

I haven’t had a really great Prove Me Wrong theory for a while, but I think I just formulated my new one, which is that Taika Waititi wrote My Immortal. 

you’re not evil girl you’re just lonely and no one has cared for you in a while and its making you crazy can you go get a fucking chai latte or something