April 5, 2026, Sunday.
South Beloit, Illinois.

This place is on the Wisconsin border. I’m here quite often these days because there’s a Flying J truck stop here. Because this is the closest Flying J to our company’s yard.

I mean, I keep coming to the company’s yard these days. Why does one come to the company’s yard? Because the truck broke down. Or there’s an important document, something you pick up on the way. For example, yesterday we put the license plate on. This truck didn’t have a license plate.

Because I didn’t tell it in order, it got confusing like this. There was another truck I was driving. I brought it last week. That one had broken down. Then they gave me this truck. But this one didn’t have a license plate either. Then I came because the other truck was fixed, I was going to leave this one and take that one back, but by the time I arrived, it turned out the repair wasn’t fully done.

Because actually the truck isn’t our company’s either. It’s Penske’s. We actually take it there for repairs. So they said it was repaired, and our guys went and got it. Then they checked here and there, and saw there were a bunch of other unrepaired problems.

I got bored while writing. But that’s what life is like. Boring sometimes.

Richard Feynman videos fell in front of me a while ago, wherever they fell from. Since that day, meaning for like 5-10 days, I’ve been watching or listening to those videos. Of course, after listening to those conversations, our little problems suddenly become terrifyingly boring.

The man summarized everything beautifully. Life, the universe, things that are and aren’t. Entertaining.

You think, like, how empty it actually is for me to be writing this right now. On the one hand, what is there to exaggerate anyway. You’re just killing time, writing things, communicating, pouring your heart out, relaxing. It happens, you know. You’re a simple human being after all. You need to relax.

My biggest hobby is examining women’s faces. For this, I constantly examine women on escort sites, on porn sites. I harbor admiration for beautiful faces. I don’t look much at faces that aren’t beautiful. I skip them immediately. But I look at beautiful faces for minutes. I go around, search their names, and look at their faces once again for a long time. This is my biggest hobby. This is the thing I enjoy most about life. Beautiful women’s faces. Not pussy, ass, or boobs. Face. I mean, I like big boobs. But the face is much more important than everything else. Deep blue eyes, emerald green eyes, sometimes black eyes, sometimes brown eyes. Actually, rather than the color, it’s the shape that matters. And the whole of the face matters. If the face is very beautiful, the eyes are beautiful too, regardless of their color. Noses, chins, teeth, cheeks, eyebrows, lips, foreheads, eyelashes, hair, ears, everything about the face. I worship faces. Beautiful faces. I worship beautiful female faces.

Then I listen to Feynman again. That relaxes me too. My expectations decrease. No need to stress. I am an animal. My capacity is this much. Nothing matters. It was a life, it came and it’s passing. What happened, happened. I am hopeful for what comes after this. I have to be hopeful.

Maybe one day I’ll meet up with beautiful-faced escorts again. Especially with young girls. I don’t have much interest above a certain age. 18-year-old girls are the most beautiful. 18, 19, 20, 21 and maybe 22. Even if I reach 40, even if I reach 70, this fact will not change. It’s not my fault. Young women’s faces are more beautiful.

Do I look like anything special myself? No. But even if you look like shit, you can still have preferences, tastes, you know. What an empty conversation. What is Feynman talking about, what am I talking about. It is what it is. On the one hand, massive universes, crazy laws of physics, tests going wrong, research yielding unexpected results. On the one hand, my simplicity, my obsessiveness with the female face, the desires of my inner world that sound disgusting.

I am a mammal in the forest. Some of us eat raw meat, some of us scream, some of us are horny. One shouldn’t get into high expectations. Those who meet our high expectations are frauds.