Blogger, writer, a man waiting for his turn. No consistency, only random stuff. I prefer to tell a story which occurs in my mind than a story about myself. I was born in two countries simultaneously, USSR and The Soviet Republic of Lithuania. We had two Capital cities- Moscow and Vilnius. 1974- the year I arrive in a newly built Soviet apartment, which my parents got from the communist government. The apartment and the school I went to, were built the same year I was born, we were like brothers and sisters of the socialist utopia. I have an older brother, he looks a bit like me and I look a bit like him. My childhood was a happy one- I was a child of the proletariat. My parents were happy workers- my mum baked bread in a factory-style bakery and my father delivered the same bread to the happy people of Vilnius. My father was so happy about socialism, that almost every night, he drunk himself to sleep. I was an ordinary boy, mischievous but happy boy. Academical learning wasn’t for me, I never was encouraged to be curious. In my teens and adolescence, I lived through massive political changes, Lithuania, once more, got its independence back. The nineties- sex, drugs and rock’n’roll of my life. I parted a bit too much, and partying too much brings some self-hate in the heart of a human. In 1999 I packed my bags and moved to the UK- to study the English language and to earn some money. I said that I would do it for a year- I am still here, typing my story. Why do I write? It helps me to straighten my mad thoughts, it helps me to make a sense of the nonsensical world surrounding me. Writing- magic in disguise. A sentence overheard in a shop, random words or actions of a stranger can bring a story in the mind of a writer. I create an imaginary( and somewhat dark) worlds. If one day, the writing will keep me from things I don’t like, I will be one of the happier specimen walking on this weird but beautiful planet.