inner monologue about infinity, genius and stuff

hello everyone (not sure if there’s ever going to be anybody except me, but still). it’s me again

recently i’ve had an opportunity to spend some extra time with my classmates. more of a waste of time than of a spend, i’m afraid. quite a doubtful pleasure. you know, i just realise I’m a different one. a more geeky one. more intelligent, maybe. a one who’d replace dull bitching about hair, relationships, america, farts and getting shit-faced with something slightly more intellectual, british, and elegant. like today’s underground west end theatre bakery play about the earlier days of Stephen Fry or something.

i’m not sure whether differing is a bad thing to do. i mean, all the greatest ones did differ, didn’t they? and so do i. feeling weird and awkward, out of the crowd is ok for geniuses. Lennon didn’t feel like a normal human being, right? and neither did Nietzsche (he surely felt more like an Übermensch), Mortenson (or Baker, whatever you like more), Feld, Dodgson, Joplin and everyone else who’s ever done anything worth attention. that’s just because we gifted chaps see the world in different colours, from a different angle, as we are apparently too cool for ordinary vision.

now that i’m done with the different, it’s time for the difficult. the difficult is to find out what the heck to do. it’s always a problem. yesterday i a kind of took part in something, don’t really know how it’s called, but the thing is that they take your fingerprints, analyse them and then tell almost everything about you. whether you have potential to get a disease in a particular area, or what sport you’d be good at, or whether you’re good at anything and, if yes, what’s that you’re good at. turns out, i’m good at everything. social sciences, arts, science, technics, linguistics… everything (and i also can be an exellent goalkeeper). so the test didn’t really help with choosing future career. and it’s hugely important to make the right choice to achieve something, to stay in humanity’s memory for at least hundred decades, isn’t it?

but i don’t know, actually.

maybe i just need to wait and see what happens next.


good luck everyone.


p.s. i assume this little jew Feld didn’t feel like a normal human being because he was the most perfect child of Rarn ever, did he?


hello there


my name is Nica and i’m a sixteen-year-old female Russian lost in the blinding whiteness of the tundra. i decided to have a blog as some pretty good stuff is about to happen to me and i just need to share every single moment of it with somebody. i’m quite an outsider, and, frankly, i’m not even sure anyone’ll be reading all the crap i’m writing here at the moment.

every two or three months or so i seriously fall for an awesome dude from the screen. for a couple of years, there’ve been marc bolan, lee pace, dylan moran, tom hiddleston, four of the bealtes (which are john lennon, george harrison, ringo starr and stuart sutcliffe. i don’t know why, but i don’t really like macca), simon amstell, and others. for the time being, i’m hugely obsessed with noel fielding.

don’t know if there’s anything else i should write there.

love britain and everything connected with it.

live long and prosper,


p.s.: yes, he’s my current crush. and yes, he’s old and mature enough to have been someone’s dad already. being honest, i’d love to have such a dad