I have toyed with this notion of writing for over the last six months, at least on a more serious level. I just was not sure how to go about what I was trying to do. Yet here I am with a big thanks to WordPress. There is a sense of pride and accomplishment, believe it or not, getting this far, just getting this all together, and even then, I know still how much work lays ahead of me, not that I am complaining about the challenge, quite contrary to the opposite of what I feel in feeling rather nauseous and excited. Nauseous in ever awaiting the backlash from the gossip that will start to spread with news that this began, and my own comfort levels in attempting to expose whatever it is that happens to fill my keyboard. It could be the sting of a breakup or bad jobs, or excitements and joys that come with the future while still sitting with the side effects of PTSD and depression, something I do not really like to talk about because it seems boring and like a cliche these days, and the vulnerability that comes with sharing too much or not enough, but either way putting it out there for the world to judge and awaiting whatever crucifixion that is chosen as appropriate for the stoning. It could be my own perceived notion that the world is out to get me and that everyone is only there with tar and feathers ready to cast judgment, but I know, I know there is still something more for me in writing it out and writing through it, and may be, with that, the sense of calling that keeps me up at night might finally feel like I am listening to my purpose. Why am I so scared to talk about it? To talk about life honestly and authentically without ever awaiting someone’s judgment from either side; both American and Russian. It has always been odd to grew up in society where we defined ourselves by our heritage while denying apart of what we are in understanding our own identity, those born on American soil but still labeled as an outsider regardless either because of our parents’ religious preference and how stupid, that we continue with such limitations in our critically thinking and judgment. The first generation I believe has it the hardest as they are stuck between those too lenient and those still ruling with iron fists. At last, the final not give a f*ck made it a little easier to put it into words, but that is another story for another day. For now, rather the introduction has been the focus, the pressures that are supposed to spark curiosity enough to which keep you coming back. So, for now, it is a goodnight and until the next post.