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 i'm not going to keep this journal anymore. i'll write all of my entries - english, russian, gibberish, in the other - 
so don't be surprised if i add you there, don't be alarmed by all the russian - it won't all be incomprehensible.

it's time to draw things together, even though it's spring, it feels like the dead of winter to me, the sun a mistake - too bright, too warm. it's fitting that our house is always cold no matter how warm it gets outside. i pull the blankets to my chin and watch the pine trees outside. 

i hope you are all well, no ghosts are haunting you and the road is transluscent-blue into summer.