I dream something completely impossible these days.
Yesterday, I fervently excused in front of someone for that I am such a loser, today was trying to get on to some, (I think) railway official Belov, and before that very comically tortured one of his subordinates for some microscopic fault. Strange. The mattress is as hard as I like, though there is no cushion. But such a surprise how much shit I have in my head.
To Moron with Gd’s help will depart in an hour. Today my hosts have invited the Russian-speaking neighbor, and with his help told me the price for everything (5 days full board + 200 km on one of the most atrocious roads on Earth): 2 thousand roubles. I was expecting twice as much and bargain to three. All right.
Read yesterday “The Voyage of the Beagle” a little. Can’t get rid of the impression that I’m writing the wrong things. For instance, the wonderful children of my hosts, or that the Mongolian stern faces in reality are always ready to smile and seems that they need much less movement than us to wide smile.