FAVOURITE QUOTE:

Are you afraid of blood? Its color, smell. The one that flows down your wrist and stains your shirt red, falls to the floor in large drops, instantly forming a small puddle.

I would have liked to say that I understood something, anything, seeing his blood-red eyes for the first time. The danger, the desire to escape and disappear, or simply to look surprised. But, having learned to lie to others, I have lost the ability to lie to myself.

I felt nothing.

Buenos Dias, people. My name's Anastasija (you can call me Ali) and I am from Kyiv, Ukraine. I've been studying English for almost ten years now, and writing stories in my native languages for two years. I play badminton and do yoga sometimes.

I like writing about medical stuff, PTSD, healing process, trust issues et cetera. Because digging in your own crap makes you want to tell the world about it in any way possible.

So, I though, why not to try my luck here?

I know Ukrainian, Russian and a bit of Latina.

I also want to learn Spanish and French.

Welcome.

BD on 13 July