I'm writing this confession, it's 18.53My Christmas Eve started at 18.40 I had half a borscht, I listened to a pancake of insults from my father, who works abroad and thinks he's unknown to whom. To see my mother and grandmother crying out of laughter and moments later out of fear. Father went to sleep in a sneeze on a bench after he had smashed the mirror and frightened all the animals. No. We're not a pathological family. Christmas standard. It's sad to see a 13-year-old girl who's gonna tell everyone she's cool anyway.