Many of you live in America, about 10,000 kilometers away from me (≈ 6,214 miles) 😮

Sometimes it feels like we exist on neighboring planets. Different culture, different habits, a different way of looking at life.

When I first came to Europe from Belarus, I felt the difference almost physically. I don’t know whether “mentality” is a real scientific concept or just a word people argue about, but I noticed it. People dress differently, even faces seem slightly different, cities vibes differently. The contrast is subtle, yet your brain reads it instantly, like an animal entering new territory and realizing - okay, the rules here are not the same.

America, in my head, is a completely separate world.

I’d love to travel across it. Live there? Probably not… though I’ve never been, which makes that opinion extremely confident for someone without evidence.

But there are so many unbelievable places that the map itself looks like a to-do list for several lifetimes.

Whenever I feel sad, I do the same thing 🥹 I buy a ticket and leave somewhere. Cheaper than therapy and sometimes faster. Movement somehow puts me back together.

Funny enough, I own almost nothing. I basically wear the same clothes, just rearranged in combinations.

A few T-shirts, jeans, hoodies, sneakers. If I buy something new, something old leaves. I throw away socks and buy new ones, a full life cycle completed 🙂

Almost everything I have- I use. Every object has a place. I do have decor though, without it a home is just a box. All the paintings on my walls are mine. The plants I grow and propagate myself. Books are the only category where I completely lose rationality.

In the usual sense I barely own anything: no piles of cosmetics, no “just in case” reserves. But I’m ready to spend my last money, energy, and opportunities just to reach a new place and see the world.

I think if I arrived in America, the first thing I’d do is find an old pickup truck. It just needs - to run. Then I’d drive, no plan, no expectations. I’d sleep in the car under the stars and wander for months.

Sometimes I don’t need the meaning of life I just need a road.

I want to go to South Dakota 😁 see Mount Rushmore. I remember seeing it in Twin Peaks, and something inside me clicked. Not memory, not even a dream more like recognition. As if a place you’ve never been somehow knows you.

Do you ever feel that? When you understand the feeling but can’t find words. A strange phenomenon- the emotion exists, language refuses to cooperate.

I’d smoke a cigarette at the Grand Canyon. And hug the biggest trees, but…

But now, I’m going to sleep. It’s already 3 a.m., and suddenly I had a wave of energy to write this.

Good night. Hugs.