The Russian’s 31st came and went and he was not impressed by my behaviour. I had no credit or means of contacting him, however, I should have found a way. I also should have tried to go back home sooner and bought him a present more than the spliff. I ended up writing him a poem, but I am still not satisfied with it and told him to think of it as a work in progress from me. He didn’t react much to it, but after he made me read a letter one of his female friends wrote him he broke into tears.

Fuck my life.

Oh, and he lost his job, so I can’t quit working because we need some sort of income. He can’t possibly be angry at incalls at this time. Screw that.

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