Surprise Guests At The Coffee Shop, Take Out A Notebook And Pen Instead Of A MacBook And Start Writing

Sheltered from the weather at home, from the strong wind that brought wet snow to our city, I decided to make myself a coffee and continue sharing my thoughts...

I know how to be a friend.

I grew up surrounded by grandmothers who said, "You can't trust anyone." "Friends aren't real." "Everyone betrays except the family." But family was not easy, I grew up early and friends turned out to be the people I could rely on in any situation in life. It wasn't always perfect, but people have good hearts and can forgive.

I never had male friends. I mean, there were girlfriends' boyfriends, girlfriends' husbands, my brother and my uncle, with whom I am only 7 years apart. There were colleagues. There was a friend of my husband's who at some point in our life became more of a friend of mine. He used to call me, he used to come over when I was alone at home with my son, I even used to joke with him and say, "Well, call him (husband) and arrange your time, we'll sit all together." But he got married and communication became minimal.

Men have always been interesting to me as individuals, I did not like all those female conversations with clichéd phrases that "all men are the same", I was silent and annoyed. This is not the case and all men are so different, so interesting! There is a whole world behind each one of them.

And it is such happiness or luck or magic to find a very similar person in this huge world. Honestly, it's like a gift from heaven, unexpected, inspiring. When you feel free to talk about your favourite movies, books, discuss art, talk about writing fanfics and not feel ridiculous! Not to make excuses for your taste... And also lifting the veil of secrecy and sharing your playlist (which you call "silent shame" because of your weird taste in music) *smiling* is, I think, the ultimate in trust.

Yes, I definitely know how to be a friend.

There's no time to write because I'm chasing the sunshine... ☀️

Trying to catch the rays that are chaotically tangled in the branches of the trees and in my hair... 💛

Everyone in my town is like cats in the sun today 😺 squinting, basking, stretching...☀️💛

That's how my writing feels... 🖤

Yeah 😊

There's something special about fading flowers... Something fragile... 💜

"Let's go quickly, just stop for my cocoa on the way..." "Are you a child?" I hear my eldest son's question and look at him in surprise. "It's just that only children drink cocoa," he begins to explain, and I smile back. As we walk for those ten minutes, I think about when I am a child....

When I buy cocoa instead of strong coffee to keep me warm...

When I buy "Kinder chocolate"...

When I take the children's toys away from their chocolate eggs...

When I lose the power of speech because of someone's rudeness and then leave quickly, wiping away tears, so they don't notice...

When I stubbornly defend my point of view, not always listening to arguments...

When I don't want to think about the consequences... "Let it go somehow..."

When I don't wear a beanie, when I take offence, when I eat sweets instead of lunch, when I pick up a kitten on the street (not knowing where I'm going to sleep next week)...

Yes, I'm a child. Sometimes and fleetingly... But then I take a deep breath, put on a strict black jacket and become an adult again.

Touching the beautiful again... ✨☀️

Sky🩵🩶

For work... I visit everything (related to art) with pleasure and interest, because then I have to write about it. One exhibition replaces another...

Today I was most attracted by an art object with old letters... Someone's correspondence. I wondered if it would be interesting to look into it... What if there were someone's secrets or something that would hurt... To be the keeper of someone else's secret or to share someone else's pain... No...

I guess there's a reason they say you can't read other people's letters.