Ты feed your soul with pain,
reviving some old wounds,
old memories that should have
been buried somewhere
where Ты would never find them.
But memories have found you,
living inside your head,
hiding in your tears.
The road of happiness
seems so distant to your view,
tho Ты still seek for these days,
the days of change.
Misery is smiling to your face,
and you're looking straight into it,
thinking, seeking for the answers
that eat your soul.
Ты might not meet the happiness
in this life and that's your scar,
that's your misfortune,
the tear you're hiding.
Ты live like a shadow,
inhaling the dust of your
time, knowing that all good
things are bypassing you,
thus your life is just a dust
in the air.
The road of happiness
seems so distant to your view,
tho Ты still seek for these days,
the days of change.
January 16, 1815
Journal,
We have gotten fortunate, Journal! Nastea has found coats in the broken down train. She sits by Sasha now, covering her in them. And she took one for herself as well. I can see color returning to Sasha’s cheeks. Nastea coughs harshly, shivering nervously. Her toes are turning blue, and one has already fallen off. We slept in the train last night, getting as much warmth as we could. We have to start to Переместить tomorrow, find shelter. The berries Nastea fed Sasha seem to have made Sasha a lot sicker than she was before. She’s coughing up blood now. The snow around her is stained with red and pink. I attempted to make a огонь earlier, and let me tell Ты journal, it didn’t work out. It’s much to cold to start flames. For every time the огонь ignites, it extinguishes, the harsh winds blowing it out. I’m losing my teeth, journal. Nastea can’t talk anymore, and her and Sasha’s hair is mostly gone. Journal, what’s happening to us?
Bye Journal,
Nadia
Journal,
We have gotten fortunate, Journal! Nastea has found coats in the broken down train. She sits by Sasha now, covering her in them. And she took one for herself as well. I can see color returning to Sasha’s cheeks. Nastea coughs harshly, shivering nervously. Her toes are turning blue, and one has already fallen off. We slept in the train last night, getting as much warmth as we could. We have to start to Переместить tomorrow, find shelter. The berries Nastea fed Sasha seem to have made Sasha a lot sicker than she was before. She’s coughing up blood now. The snow around her is stained with red and pink. I attempted to make a огонь earlier, and let me tell Ты journal, it didn’t work out. It’s much to cold to start flames. For every time the огонь ignites, it extinguishes, the harsh winds blowing it out. I’m losing my teeth, journal. Nastea can’t talk anymore, and her and Sasha’s hair is mostly gone. Journal, what’s happening to us?
Bye Journal,
Nadia
The pookie fell from a дерево
upon hitting the ground he farted
scared at his own flatulence he tried climbing up the tree. But for every branch he grabbed he tooted. and for every twig he broke, he farted.
farting all the way up, pookie climed that tree. He had to make it to the вверх Ты see, cause that where pookie's make pee. Relief was almost in reach for pookie. till a stiring occurred within.. a rumbling sensation, and pookie knew.. with a tear, that he couldn't hold it in.
Till this день those who were near сказал(-а) it sounded like a cow mooing. The momentum of his farts became like a rocket and shot pookie up and out that tree! Up in to the sky..till pookie could not be seen.
moral of story? dont eat beans. O_o
Далее chapter "The pookie Returns"
