605
January 1 in Moscow
Silence, empty streets, free subway cars, lonely police. It looks like Moscow utopia. All year you can imagine it can dream of the residents of Khimki, similarly can be misleading Mossad agents, but once a year, this is really a utopia becoming reality. On her own. In the New Year's Eve alcohol neutralizes the majority of Muscovites and those who want them to become. Only rare botany with cameras represent a Moscow fauna in the morning the first of January. These are real scumbags, which, perhaps, terrible mess. Because there is no worse than a man capable to stand at seven in the morning the first of January.
Original: onreal
Shower, coffee and auditory training. In the course of anger management you convince yourself that you need to drink a coffee and a shower watering itself, and not vice versa. On the morning of January 1 it is not difficult to confuse. Himself lepish like plasticine, putting the pieces. The pieces do not add up. Coffee does not invigorates. Such a decaying substance, losing in the course of the last remnants of sleep and morality yours truly went to the metro station "Theatre."
In Okhotny neighborly huddle drama and comedy. Comedians, however, all went on vacation after the adoption of the law on orphans. True, not costumed actors preparing for January 2 to give the Nutcracker. Now it is calm. Or, would be to say the intermission.
Guests sleep in capital hotel "Metropol", members sleep on Seyshelovyh Islands, the homeless - in the underpass at the Manezh, I sleep on the go. All even.
Not only sleep wipers and traffic cops. Both collected.
I walk past a fenced from all sides Revolution Square, past the toilets, painted under gzhel, past the "Zhiguli" with bright yellow wheels and exhaust pipes, which can be stored zucchini, and I think that this is still a dream.
Dream big white lump swells in the middle of Red Square. I tried in vain to find out, whether those mushrooms that I ate the day before, were mushrooms. But a huge white pine cone disappears.
Around some unfamiliar faces. I want to go even to someone scratch your tights and other places, and to ask the traditional question for the Russian people - "there cho?" But look back and realize that this innocuous question simply no one will understand. It is necessary to learn English, for sure everybody knows him.
At the foot of the Cathedral of the Intercession themselves slow step. Beautiful and a lot of migrants. In one sentence, these two concepts clearly appear discordant. Another indication that this is just a dream.
On Red Square wants to get away. And not because of the dozens of young men standing bunch, and curiously looked at my camera. There uncomfortable. Lurid rink, bubble on the site of the mausoleum. In the eyes of doubles. It seems only yesterday our government hiding from us at the same fence. And now for two.
On Vasilevsky descent is slippery and there are kiosks with beer. Perhaps that's why fewer people. Even the police car in which I looked, stands empty. Perhaps the police catch criminals.
Pustnynno on the Moscow River bridge. Rare Tajik comes to its middle and then turns back.
With stunning views of the bridge. I quickly pull out my easel and sketch. Our scientists then develop a plan for how to turn the turret in the coffee shops. By the way, I have already told that the marinated mushrooms as a side dish - great festive evening?
Friends told me that soon all piled out "this shitty Raska". I did not think it would happen so quickly.
In fact, Moscow - a very beautiful city. It is necessary to remove the machine and all the people, as it becomes apparent. But here ponaezzhayut with one goal - not to admire the city for those who live here. Well, not for the money is really going here. Well, judge for yourself, do a hundred thousand - this is money?
The next picture was taken on the request of the Moscow City Hall that you are blamed for endless traffic jams. Three hundred rubles in my sleeping pills.
And three hundred rubles.
A New Arbat, I think, and expensive work. I'll be the way to trade up to three hundred and twenty.
Alone, I go to the temple of Christ the Savior. It calls the soul, here are the legs themselves. Somewhere in here yesterday, I dropped a pack of cigarettes. But the miracle did not happen, God does not condescend to me.
I have no choice, how to ask to pinch myself by passing girl. The attempt failed, but agree that might work? I had to pinch myself to. After fifteen times, I realized that I still can not sleep. It's not a dream. Not a hallucination. Not a fantasy. This Moscow on January 1st. This way it will not be for another year. I have already, in principle, starting to speculate about this, but I explained to red dog. He was so friendly that I shared with him mushrooms ...
Source:
Original: onreal
Shower, coffee and auditory training. In the course of anger management you convince yourself that you need to drink a coffee and a shower watering itself, and not vice versa. On the morning of January 1 it is not difficult to confuse. Himself lepish like plasticine, putting the pieces. The pieces do not add up. Coffee does not invigorates. Such a decaying substance, losing in the course of the last remnants of sleep and morality yours truly went to the metro station "Theatre."
In Okhotny neighborly huddle drama and comedy. Comedians, however, all went on vacation after the adoption of the law on orphans. True, not costumed actors preparing for January 2 to give the Nutcracker. Now it is calm. Or, would be to say the intermission.
Guests sleep in capital hotel "Metropol", members sleep on Seyshelovyh Islands, the homeless - in the underpass at the Manezh, I sleep on the go. All even.
Not only sleep wipers and traffic cops. Both collected.
I walk past a fenced from all sides Revolution Square, past the toilets, painted under gzhel, past the "Zhiguli" with bright yellow wheels and exhaust pipes, which can be stored zucchini, and I think that this is still a dream.
Dream big white lump swells in the middle of Red Square. I tried in vain to find out, whether those mushrooms that I ate the day before, were mushrooms. But a huge white pine cone disappears.
Around some unfamiliar faces. I want to go even to someone scratch your tights and other places, and to ask the traditional question for the Russian people - "there cho?" But look back and realize that this innocuous question simply no one will understand. It is necessary to learn English, for sure everybody knows him.
At the foot of the Cathedral of the Intercession themselves slow step. Beautiful and a lot of migrants. In one sentence, these two concepts clearly appear discordant. Another indication that this is just a dream.
On Red Square wants to get away. And not because of the dozens of young men standing bunch, and curiously looked at my camera. There uncomfortable. Lurid rink, bubble on the site of the mausoleum. In the eyes of doubles. It seems only yesterday our government hiding from us at the same fence. And now for two.
On Vasilevsky descent is slippery and there are kiosks with beer. Perhaps that's why fewer people. Even the police car in which I looked, stands empty. Perhaps the police catch criminals.
Pustnynno on the Moscow River bridge. Rare Tajik comes to its middle and then turns back.
With stunning views of the bridge. I quickly pull out my easel and sketch. Our scientists then develop a plan for how to turn the turret in the coffee shops. By the way, I have already told that the marinated mushrooms as a side dish - great festive evening?
Friends told me that soon all piled out "this shitty Raska". I did not think it would happen so quickly.
In fact, Moscow - a very beautiful city. It is necessary to remove the machine and all the people, as it becomes apparent. But here ponaezzhayut with one goal - not to admire the city for those who live here. Well, not for the money is really going here. Well, judge for yourself, do a hundred thousand - this is money?
The next picture was taken on the request of the Moscow City Hall that you are blamed for endless traffic jams. Three hundred rubles in my sleeping pills.
And three hundred rubles.
A New Arbat, I think, and expensive work. I'll be the way to trade up to three hundred and twenty.
Alone, I go to the temple of Christ the Savior. It calls the soul, here are the legs themselves. Somewhere in here yesterday, I dropped a pack of cigarettes. But the miracle did not happen, God does not condescend to me.
I have no choice, how to ask to pinch myself by passing girl. The attempt failed, but agree that might work? I had to pinch myself to. After fifteen times, I realized that I still can not sleep. It's not a dream. Not a hallucination. Not a fantasy. This Moscow on January 1st. This way it will not be for another year. I have already, in principle, starting to speculate about this, but I explained to red dog. He was so friendly that I shared with him mushrooms ...
Source:
