The chunk 104 The message -564-

In the following weeks, Olga almost stopped sending videos to Ahmed because the videos came out “silent”: it was difficult for her to focus simultaneously on the picture of the videos, on passers-by, and on her thoughts and speeches. Now she was recording audio. She did 7-10 minute speeches on the way from the bus to her office. As she commuted on the bus, she mentally, in English, very fluently, considered what she could say during this time. It was easy. But each time she got out of the bus, and immediately all her thoughts left with the bus, leaving her with an empty head. She felt stupid and helpless. She had to invent both the topic and the speech on the go. Talking in the streets was uncomfortable. Suitable English vocabulary “was embarrassed” by passers-by. Olga forgot the rules.
But Ahmed didn't watch her videos, didn't read her messages, and didn't listen to the audios. She was 99 percent sure of this, so she sent him two or three dozens of videos and audios, periodically deleting the content for both parties in case of the 1% chance becoming successful: if by chance he logs into the account. She was shy.
Once she sent an audio, then, as usual, a photo of herself as soon as she had come to the office and logged into her working computer. Then, as a reply to her phrase from the last audio message
"...Well, that is my office building. I am almost there.", Ahmed's message came:

"Hello Olga.
I'm struggling with life here.
I hope you're doing well.
Haha… I saw my photo on your monitor…
How come?"

Indeed, one of the old stickers with the figure of Ahmed and monkeys was set as a screen background on her work computer. There he was scratching his forehead, and she titled it "Are you sure, Ahmed...?" as if responding to his one day ago fascinating him thoughts about equations of love being used to her. Olga answered something inappropriate and defending because she understood the phrase "How come?" wrongly… Ahmed rolled his eyes over and sent Telegram with all its contents to hell.

В следующие недели Ольга почти прекратила отсылать Ахмеду видео, потому что видео выходили “молчаливыми”, ей было сложно сосредотачиваться одновременно на картинке видео, на прохожих, и на своих мыслях. Теперь она записывала аудио. Она тратила на это 7-10 минут дороги по пути от автобуса до ее офиса. Пока она ехала, она в уме, на английском, очень бегло, обдумывала, о чем можно рассказать за это время. Но она покидала автобус, и тотчас все мысли уезжали с этим автобусом, оставляя ее с пустой головой. Приходилось изобретать и тему, и речь на ходу, спонтанно. Говорить на улице было некомфортно, подходящая английская лексика стеснялась прохожих, правила Ольга забывала.
Но Ахмед не смотрел ее видео, не читал сообщений и не слушал этих аудио. Она была на 99 процентов уверена в этом, поэтому отослала ему десятка два-три видео и аудио, периодически удаляя контент для обеих сторон: на случай 1% вероятности: если он все же зайдет в аккаунт. Она стеснялась.
Однажды она выслала аудио, потом, как обычно, свое фото, как только вошла в офис и включила компьютер, а потом пришло сообщение Ахмеда на ее фразу из последнего аудиосообщения:
"...Well, that is my office building. I am almost there."
"...Ну вот уже мой офис. Почти пришла."
"Hello Olga.
I'm struggling with life here.
I hope you're doing well.
Hahq… I saw my photo on your monitor…
How come?"
“Здравствуйте, Ольга.
Я здесь выживаю.
Надеюсь, у вас все хорошо.
Ха-ха! Я видел мое фото на вашем мониторе…
Как так?”
Действительно, заставкой у нее на мониторе рабочего компьютера был один из давних стикеров с фигурой Ахмеда и обезьянами, где он почесывал лоб.  Как бы отвечая его недавним мыслям об уравнениях любви, из уст виртуального Ахмеда выплывало облачко с текстом: "Are you sure, Ahmed…?""Вы уверены, Ахмед?"
Ольга ответила что-то резко и  невпопад, потому что поняла фразу “Cow come?” превратно. Ахмед закатил глаза и послал Телеграм со всем его содержимым куда подальше.

The message - 248-249-
Chunk =9-10=

The message - 250-
28/06/20
Hello, God!
Lately, it has been raining. I love rain. Yesterday on the bus I was watching the bus window glass because of the rain that made wet stripes on the glass. It looked like tears. Heaven again is crying. I always think that rain is Your tears. I probably have too many tears inside myself if I cry so often recently for different reasons. I don't want to be sensitive and weak anymore, I would like to avoid a lot of damage. How to change my direction... I know, work...just help me please with motivation :) I should work for a great cause. I hate to work just for money. Every day I see nothing except my commuting way and working place and my house. Customers can send me messages even at night. Almost every time they want to lower the cost, not to improve a project. I go out at 9 am and come home at 9 pm. The way back always takes more time. I usually listen to an audiobook this time. For reading, I have no energy. How to become powerful and vibrant, tell me! All my appearance tells me I am exhausted. I smile tiredly and look at people with my humbling face. I cannot smile even for the camera. I wait for the time my daughter enters and ends her University, will leave me, I could go whatever I want, in another city or country, as a volunteer in Africa, for example :). I want her to live alone right now, for she would have never lived life like mine. She should go through the school of surviving I had never had. In this case, she will feel happier in her middle age, which is more important for in her youth she is happy a-priori. She is much more clever than me. But she is not warm, she is selfish, rude sometimes, but sometimes not, I am glad. She has a lot to learn...
In short, I want to forget all my tears and tires, help me! Today again it's raining out of the window in my room and I am crying with you together, my God, for no reason.