I don't blame myself.

  I don't want to come back time. I just want to go through the next days, months, without thinking about it all, about thinking how weak I was letting me to do so many things I'd never do if I were who I am. That was bad idea to trying to be me more myself than I am.
 Now I need many things to think about instead of this one thought. I was crying two days ago while listening Symphonie No. 40 by Mozart during laying in bed before sleeping. I wasn't thinking about my thing. This music is so beautiful, it made me think about every person in world who is so important for somebody and it all make them so unimportant. That's beautiful. I imagined myself laughing 20 years old miss in XVIII'c. dress. Winter in Breugel's paint. Views in gardens.
 I know how easy it's to fall depress for me. On the other hand I'm stupid optimist. Now I don't have any force for fight. I'd like to lay and read Gide's novels for feel as in dream again.
 I'd like and I can't.