Dear Mary
Dear Mary!
I'm writing this stupid letter while having a stupid physics lesson and I want to sleep so badly that I might fall on Druyps' shoulder and start snoring.
The reason of my letter is pretty stupid, just like this room, these people, this snow outside the window.
It's the end of an era. It struck me so hard that I'm not able to breathe and I'm making crazy eyes, J-o-k-e-r's style. Elvissa wrote to me via the iPhone ICQ, a lot of rambling about her new boyfriend, Vasya. And, just for a laugh, I asked about Dominic. What about Dominic, then? I asked. Is that all in the past?
And she said that yeah, he was more like an infatuation than Love.
Mary, my youth!! My teenage years!!! Where are they??! Where's that time when we didn't care about anything and we could only complain about life, school, the lack of money, our parents??! It's gone, that time's gone and now it's just a handful of pitiful memories.
The memories about times when it was possible to lie on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and imagining bright pictures of the wedding with a drummer or the vocalist of the famous band.