Am I alive? I always have a pair of socks under my bed. No, that's not because I'm messy. The reason is... dancing. I must have these socks to slide on the floor at night with music at headphones. The verb “must” in the previous sentence isn't inappropriate because dance is my living need. I feel this physically, I mean like hunger or thirst. The excitement in my head and the pressure all over my muscles — it's impossible to confuse these symptoms with something else. Do I know how to dance? No. Have it ever stopped me? No. Unfortunately, I behave like this only in the case of dancing. If I want to do anything else, I need to beg permission from myself. I do not deserve to express my opinion, make photos/videos, apply for a job, etc because I'm not good enough. Stop-stop-stop. I've already known what you want to say: “Sasha, you'll never be good enough doing nothing”. Hah. I know. I do know, and I even do understand that. However, my incompetence still doesn't allow me to live. About a week ago when I was reading a book, I wanted to write down my thoughts in my diary. Like school essay, you know. I finished the book the day after I had got this idea. Did I write an essay? Of course, I'm not. I can't allow it. Who am I to review and especially criticize the world masterpiece (even in my private notes)? What if I'm not impressed with this work just because I'm stupid and uneducated? Do I have a right to write this essay (even in my private notes!)? Yeah, that sounds foolish, I know. Anyway, I don't know how to get rid of all these thoughts and start being an alive person. Now I'm only operating system with a non-admin account. 01100110011101010110001101101011