Shooting with (Patreon)

Arnold 

Finally, I came down from the mountains) in the literal sense of the word) 

These few days were very full and strange, like the last six months of my life. I met an incredible sunrise and a full moon in the mountains, hugged the mosses, climbed to the top, heard the real sound of trembita, met the morning fog in the mountain forest, and in between this beautiful I learned that my ex’s military comrades (with whom he met me) almost all died in battle, my stomach and pancreas said "goodbye" to me and I spent almost two days on the water, the boyfriend of a friend (with whom I was in the mountains) decided to break up with her and I tried to support her, well, of course i got sick. 

I am crazy about the reality in which we live. It is strange to me that the words "died", "explosion", "burial", "commemoration" already sound so commonplace and familiar in our mouths that they do not even evoke any emotions - and can be present even at a rave party.

My life is Beautiful. And at the same time, I often think that I feel sorry for myself. I am sorry that I live this. It's a strange feeling - the adult "I" accepts this world as it is, and the little "I" still doesn't want to. And probably this resistance prevents me from fully enjoying life.

But this is all thinking and digging. At the moment, life is beautiful... and negative moments still give something - some new awareness - the main thing is to understand it.