And I should say, I completely got used to 11th Doctor. He is brilliant. Of course, i still miss 10th Doctor, just as I missed 9th Doctor, but it's ok. They all have their own, very special personality, they all are different persons, and they all are one, they are Doctor. I love each of them individually and i love all of them altogether as one indivisible Doctor.

Oh, yes, i'm mad about The Doctor Who.

Best TV series ever. 
 

Sorry for mistakes, i'm too tired to check it all.

I'm sorry, Wallander, i'm so sorry, i know, i must be the laziest bum on this planet. 

- Nothing happens to me, - said Watson and i join his club. Well, actually, he met Sherlock afterwards, but i think i'm not so lucky and it won't happen smth like that in my life. So till last three days really NOTHING happend to me. Alone in the city.

But, as i said, there was nothing special in my life till last three days. 

CAUSE THESE DAYS ARE FUCKING MAD!!!11
I am DEAD tired. DEAD. Cause three days ago me and my mom suddenly realized that Alex is coming on 16th of July. And accroding to the fact we've been living peaceful bachelor life and didn't really try to keep our apartment in good order, we had FUCKING HUGE amount of  things to do. We threw out about 6 huge garbage bags filled with junk. We cleaned EVERYTHING, we made every our room PERFECT.  Somebody kill me, i can't feel my back.

He. Is. Coming. Back. Oh my God, i'll be hugging him in 34 hours and 12 minutes. I can't believe that these two years of waiting will end. 
I'm trying not to think about the time when he'll have to go back. Sometimes i think that it might be better not to meet him every two years. Not to meet him ever. Because it hurts. Very, very much. Stupid thoughts, of course, i must be happy. And i am. But it still hurts and i can't do anything to reduce the pain.

What's new? I'm ginger. Because of Amy, i think :D I've found my lost headphones. I've  passed PET, yeah! I've bought nice old-fashioned bag. I've taken up learning German. 

And that ABSOLUTELY AMAZING t-shirt will be mine in two or three days.

And i miss you, Wallander. Very, very much.

I've just returned from a walk with my friends. I love such evenings.
Why i\'m such a lazy bum when it comes to writing a thanksgiving post?

Thank you for everything. For The Doctor Who, for the most beautiful sound in the universe - the sound of TARDIS, for "Exterminate!", for "Doomsday", for  waiting for Doctor, for unbelievable understanding without words, for my brother's politness, for his successes in tennis, for currant jam with cookies, for tee with сinnamon, for camomile tee, for sunsets that can be so beautiful anywhere in the world, for my very first postcard that have been sent four days ago, for incessant rains, for wedge of gulls, for repeating "Come on, mum, just imagine that that's London!" while walking under the rain, for walking in a shop with turned on "Exterminate!" on a mobile phone, for sleepeng till 3 p.m., for taking up learning German, for night dreams after watching Doctor, for feeling when you finally come home from cold outside.

I've just finished watching another serie of the Doctor Who and i'm sad. The first reason why i'm sad is because things are happening in the series are sad. The second reason is because such things are not happening in my world. 

I'm enjoying being melancholy like that and listening to Belaya Gvardiya. It's so strange that negative emotions can be positive sometimes. Strange and very nice.

The Doctor Who is gorgeous series. I can see more than convoluted plot and unbelievable fantasy of scriptwriters. Indeed, i have many things i can learn from them all. I envy with white envy Doctor who loves people (and other creatures) so much, that his love can even turn Doctor's enemies into his friends. That is unbelievable ability to look into the very soul and not to pay attention on external actions and behavior. To look under the masks.

That's how BBC teaches unobtrusively to be a man.

I'm mad. I've turned on "Claude Debussy - Clair De Lune" and i know i will cry. For those who don't understand, that track was playing throughout one of the most  heartbreaking moments of the film "Atonement".

Isn't it great that there are so different people exist? That amazing that all people are different.  I wonder, what if survival instinct didn't exist? How many people would stop fighting? Or there is smth else what keeps us alive? Is there the difference beetween the love of life and the survival instinct or they are just the same?

I've realized i don't want to become anyone. I just want to love the life throughout all my life.

He is showing off his detective skills. Dark hair again. That suit again. 

Jesus, there are no words to express my adoration.

"-Alright, Doctor, 
- Alright, Sherly".

Sherly. SHERLY. I'm crying.

He is showing his detective skills. Dark hair again. That suit again. 

Jesus, there are no words to express my adoration.

"-Alright, Doctor, 
- Alright, Sherly".

Sherly. SHERLY. I'm crying.

And a very special one! Thanks God, Alyona isn't a person who ignores their birthdays rather than call attention to getting older. Indeed, it doesn't make any sense at all. You would become older anyway, so what's the point to ignore the celebration?

Oh. It was sooo exciting, when we were going somewhere and noone except Alyona knowed what we're going to do and even where exactly we're going. And that feeling, pure childish happiness , when i realized that we was in art studio. In art studio! I expected everything but art studio. It was amazing experience and we all have learnt of new things. And had a lot of fun. Especially when we're dueling with hairdryers.

Definitely, Someone Above was in the bad mood today. Or in the too good mood. And that Someone Above was really enjoying turning a rain on everytime we came out. Anyway, it didn't make us upset. Ha-ha. 

 Wallander has already showed her work, sooo that's mine:

Really i don't feel like writing smth, so let it be tango.

I guess tango doesn't need a special representation.

The scent of the woman, remember?

Gotan Project. Don't really like electronic music, but...but these tracks are amazing. From album "La Revancha Del Tango", 2001

Still has a kind of evening melancholy that bothers me a lot. I'm feeling so worthless, and, unfortunately, it's not just emotions, that's quite true. No achivements, no success, no even dreams and ambitions. Hope i'll handle this in future.

I remember when i was about twelve years old i understood that avoiding this world and just running away in my own world of dreams, which was much more friendly to me, wasn't very good idea. I thought that i might have become mad, and now i think i was a сlever thought, actually. Remember i was crying because i forced myself to forget everything about the nice world where i used to hide from reality. I wondered, how people manage to become adult if it's so painful. Now i see how. It's not painful to become an adult, it's painful to keep being a child when you're ready to leave a childhood. Difficult to explain... It's like when you have a lot of power but don't use it.

Empty thoughts, absolutely empty. I tried to remember what this day taught me, but i failed. I just want to think about such silly things like how night influence on me and on others, how people make their choices, why i'm not a cat, because i'm not allowed to walk at the night and they are, about the fact i can't live without people despite the fact i don't really like them, how people invented the Gods and about other stuff. 

When i wrote "I wonder what I will dream about tonight?" in previous post i couldn't even think about what i would dream about. I've never had such a sad dream.

No, Wallander, it wasn't about X-men, and that's strange, isn't it? I dreamed about Doctor.

First thing which i remember is i was sitting in my room with Doctor and he was telling me something very exciting. I remember that i felt like my head was being filled with lots of information, and i really liked this feeling. By the way, it was the ninth Doctor, he looked like Eccleston.
Unfortunately i don't remember what we were doing together. At first i decided, that we didn't do anything that Doctor usually does, but afterwards some details have surfaced in my memory. I remember me sitting in dark room and writing something and i remember us running somewhere. Also i remember that i wasn't the only one Doctor's companion. I remember that there were three children, i forgot  the youngest two, but i remember a little afro american girl, who made origami.

Why it was so sad? Because i saw Doctor dying. He told me that he was dying and he had to go. We both was crying, i couldn't imagine my life without him. I remember me thinking to ask him to take me with him, but i realized soon, that i'm not suitable for such life he lived. We just couldn't be together. I realized that he would forget me. And the saddest thing is when he was hugging me he asked me to remember and to write down everything we did together. I sweared. I sweared and now i can't remember anything.

The last thing i remember  he  trying to calm me down. He smiled through his ​​tears and said: "But the stars continue to be born!" (still don't know what he was talking about and how it could help me). I only had time to think: "Yes, but without you" and i opened my eyes. 

First few minutes i really hated real life.

Yeap. The X-Men: first class.
 Sooo, i didn't make any assumption about this film so i can't say if this film met my expectations or not. Buuuuut...

Dear God, it was gorgeous! Of course, what could i expect, it's Marvel   
Today was my first acquaintance with Michael Fassbender (Inglorious Bastards doesn't count). What can i say, i'm a fan! Join your club, Wallander. I always check if actor is suitable for a role by trying to replace him by another one. Well, i haven't find anyone. Anyone who can be so cold, strong and even cruel but at the same show involuntary that he is just a victim of the occasion, hopelessly devoid of any possibility to be happy ever. Anyone who can express it all in look in his eyes only. Yes, i remember Fiennes' look in his eyes in Onegin, but could you imagine him as a X-Men? :D
McAvoy...Young drunk professor-pacifist :D He's like cute kind daddy for all these noisy naughty assholes  students. Indeed, he made of kittens. Freeman, be careful, you have a serious rival :D

I suspect appearance of a huge amount of fanfics with pairing Charles Xavier/ Eric Lensherr. If you watched the film and didn't noticed anything beyond their friendship, you MUST be blind. Can'twait-can't wait-can'twait. Phooobs, please, don't disappoint us

In my opinion it doesn't make sense to write about any other character/actor. Can you guess why? Because noone can be better then one men, whose participation in the film took about 30 seconds. Judge for yourself, who can be better than really damn drunk Wolverine telling Charles and Eric politely to fuсk off without even looking at them. I'm in love :D

Guess, who is the main evil again? That-guy-with-submarine-with-gay-club-and-nuclear-reactor-inside? Eric? Nooooope. If americans shows Russia (especially Sovet Russia) in their films who can be the evil? Exactly, exactly. Have you seen a contrast of color spectrum between a views of England and Russia? Brrr, it looks like if the hell was on the Earth, it would be located in our the Great and Powerful Homeland.

Damn my English, i've been writing and translating it all for two hours T_T

I wonder what I will dream about tonight?

Despite the fact it is beautiful Мay evening, i can imagine the night when this poem has born. As far as i know, in 1910-s was a kind of turning point in life of Alexander Blok, the time of difficult decisions. In addition to this it was October...The only thing that can be worse than October is November. Cold, rainy and windy nights, everything that was blooming and living all summer is dying slowly and painfully. It's a dreadful time when hopes are dying, and a soul is becoming devastated.  

...Actually, it was just a short digression, a stream of feelings.  At first this post was supposed to be dedicated to one of my favorite modern composers - Sophie Solomon, or rather, her "The light that never dies ". That's obvious that this kind of song was inspired by the poem "Night, Street, Lamp, Pharmacy" written by Alexandr Blok.

Read by Ralph Fiennes:

Really, it was one of the best birthdays i've ever had. Don't know how to express my thankfulness to you, guys.

Thanks for long morning, for a little bit of red lipstick, for a funny old "lady", for a conversation about childhood, for amazing presents ( i wonder, how do you manage to guess my thoughts?), for happiness that fulfilled me all day, for tasty food, for good wheather, for holding expensive camera in my hands, for sitting in the end of the bus, for being thirsty for an hour and then drinking a bottle of milk, for being children, for shooting a water guns, for holding a raven in hands, for trying to kill mosquitoes with water guns, for being wet, for talking about Alyona's birthday, for chatting a lot, getting tired, for feeling when you sit down after long walk, for funny stubborn girl, for dreaming about sofa, for the book about Sherlock Holmes that is waiting for me tonight.

Yes, it has finished finally. And i've understood not really pleasant fact.
I'm absolutely unable to work hard. I'm feeling terribly happy knowing that i don't have to bother about anything anymore. Don't know how i will feel when i'll have to become an adult. Actually, i don't want to know.

It's so delightful, just to write down lazy night thoughts and listening for carefree songs.

Nonchalance, btw, isn't so bad. At least, it protects me, so spineless and weak, it isolates me from all this stupid turmoil, others' opinions and boring daily stuff and give an excellent opportunity to look inside myself, to try to listen to my heart at last and to understand, what i really think about it all. Well, i have three months to do it.

To eat, to drink, to sleep, to read. I've heard somewhere such a definition of happy life in four words. The beginning of summer and Francoise Sagan are inclining me to carefree life without tomorrow. I haven't decided yet, should i be ashamed of such simple needs or not, but,  i believe, in any case, it is worse to lie myself by trying to convince myself that i like all that daily fuss... Probably, one day i'll like it all.

I'm going to finish reading "Il nomme dela rosa". I've already known, who is the muderer, so, Wallander, you can't blackmail me anymore. Finally i've found such an author, whose books i can re-read a thousand times in order to solve puzzles. I can't read book, which i understand cleary. No matter how i like the book, if there are no more puzzles and secrets in it, i won't read it  - reading for a second time can't be compared with the first time anyway. I wonder, if writers know, how many puzzlies there are in their books? Now i got strong desire to get acquainted better with the Bible and with history of medieval monasteries. Love the books which make me want to read more.

Thanks for this spring. 
Thanks for young leaves and blooming apple-trees, for late sunsets and long walks, drawn-out games, the realization that i'm still a child, for huge amount of british actors, for slight spleen, for bothering questions, for chocolate cake, for drawn-out birthday (i've never got so much presents), for Fransuaza Sagan, for ability to immerse in a book and forget about everything, for music that's suits my mood, for chattin' with my classmates, for good exam results, for little John Watson (during the walk we saw a little child dressed in a kind of little military coat and he was carring toy cane), for harmonica, for new book by Umberto Eco, for the end of school year.

---

For cheap ice cream, for strong emotions, for the sunrise, for spending time with friend, for being offended, for green eyes, for the way insult influences on me, for strong desire to immerse in a science, for puzzling night's dreams, for looking for empty swing, for taking photos of children, for honest little girl, for the smell of blooming trees, for George Orwell, for the way Google translator translate (damn tautology -__-) my post.

Let it be new weekly column -The midnight music.

As far as i know, Gary Jules is american singer-songwrither, not really popular (especially in Russia), and it adds him value in my eyes actually.
I fell in love with his amazing voice, soft and genlte, and with simple but very meaningful lyrics. His songs seem to me to be tender sad tales that are perfectly suitable for such a rainy night as today.

Mad world

Beautiful

I really need to get prepared for my tomorrow exam, but i have strong desire to write something and i just can't help it.
I've read somewhere an interesting statement about blogging. Can't remember it fully but it was smth like that: 'The blogging has given us a the world fulled with people who have a lot of mostly nothing to say and strong desire to say it'. That's all about me.

I always wonder how people manage to divide relationships into groups like lovers, friends, mates and so on. it seems to be so difficult to me, almost impossible. How to distinguish true friend from amount of other friends? Okay, in some situations it can be easy. But how to feel the moment when the love begins and ends? The moment when you get more rights to enter more deeply into the personal space of the person? The moment when you can open your heart fearlessly? How to notice that person has drifted away from you? It can be so imperceptible. Are there any borders between these kinds of relationships at least?

I guess, these questions can't be answered. People must learn it during the communiction with others, but...why didn't i learn it then?

...Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Thank You for Sherlock Holmes, despite the fact i know that you wouldn't like to be remembered as the author of Sherlock Holmes only.