Oh, the impenetrable morass of the mysterious Russian-adjacent soul. I recognize it and love it and so want to episteme, but at some point, I just stop aleating, and feel like the proverbial Russian crane in a bog- either my beak or my foot was stuck and I was no longer making any inroads. Perhaps that’s the point?
Oh, the impenetrable morass of the mysterious Russian-adjacent soul. I recognize it and love it and so want to episteme, but at some point, I just stop aleating, and feel like the proverbial Russian crane in a bog- either my beak or my foot was stuck and I was no longer making any inroads. Perhaps that’s the point?
perhaps! I ask myself the same question very often haha
LUNCHBREAK CANT COME QUICK ENOUGH
ohhh why what is going on
just wanna read but at work