I hope all is well with you. It’s very cold. I always check the weather in Moscow before I think about how you are doing. I like to imagine your steps in the snow in the streets, and russian road rage all arround you, maybe Putin riding a bear flying right by, nuclear weapons shooting meteorites that explode all the time… all i know from russia is from youtube, newspapers and russian literature of the XIXth century, so I am not sure it is a very accurate perception.
I know that I am suffering from platonic love when I wake up with a pain on my lower back. It is the result of some form of anxiety that probably makes me more tense during sleep, and thus, toss and turn in bed. I once discussed this with a doctor but he gave me a strange look.
Luckily it is a very occasional condition since I was 20 something years old – ever since i stopped being a student and being exposed to a large array of girls for which to fall in love with. Don’t worry. I am well aware this is a mental condition and has nothing to do with reality. I didn’t knew this when I as younger. At the time I was always more or less in love for some unknown girl, but I was also having a hard time at econometrics classes. I never knew if I felt anxious and restless because of girls or the next econometric or statistics exam.
The story of my life was very similar to a seismograph: long periods of flat lines in which I had a deep an rewarding relationship, living together, making plans for the future, discussing the arrangement of furniture in the living room or the next vacations, having babies, followed by sudden bursts of needle jumps in 8.2 richter scale earthquakes in my single and half-single periods, the search periods, the decadent phases, until I surfaced again, grasping for another normal bit of life like i just want to have.
The deja vu feeling got to me. You listen to some words and you say some words once and you have heard them and said them forever. Like a dying volcano the lava in my heart grew colder, petrifying some of my teenage dreams in very beautiful, but lifeless sculptures. Maybe I still have something asleep, deep bellow the surface?
I’ve met statue people, like those in Pompei, buried under ashes, with that look of awe in their faces, like “what the hell is going on” look you get when volcanic melting stuff engulfs your town. Life is short isn’t it?
Well, i’m doing great here. I hope my team, Benfica, wins this sunday. Do you like football? Hope to ear from you soon.
to Russia with love