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Mostrando postagens de Novembro, 2017

Malibu, 2025.

Malibu, 2025. Note to self. It had been already snowing. Awfully early to, but it was Moscow. Normally, after the first snow I’d meet Seda and she would complain about every single aspect of her life and connect it to the snow fall and the coming winter. Now, however, it was just me. I remember I had been looking for emotional sustainability. I, yet, couldn’t find the equivalent of “green, sustainable” for feelings. I was not sure either it was a color. Oh. Right. It was exactly the things that happened after we graduated that defined us. I died my hair blond, took off to Vienna to meet old affairs and taste the Austrian cuisine (all of it, but I specialized on schnitzels and apfelstrudels). Martin moved with Masha and Domenico to the countryside, after which they became gypsies in the alps. Seda took off with Gennady to the United States in the pursuit of happiness according to the American constitution. I became a vegan after that, but remained blond. Seda ended up working temporar…