Russia Yekaterinburg

WE had to explain what blogs are to the class a few week ago. Maybe it was more, I can’t remember. I can’t even remember when I started my double life. The more I learn about the people here, the less I trust them. Everyone has a motive. What’s mine? Perhaps it is to escape. She says she can’t breath here anymore. She counts days, weeks, hours, sometimes. She still wants to fight it, I lay down and surrender. I had a nightmare about my favorite things, they weren’t so special, then I ate candy for breakfast. I was free this weekend. I don’t trust them. At least I’ve begun something. Nothing works as it should.

It was clever, I never told you.