The Philosopher’s diary. Part 3.

I do not know about others, but I have a whole world inside.

With cities, streets, houses and windows. They are all different, light and dark, large and small, black&white and color. There are living everyone I ever knew. And there will be those, who I will meet yet.

Someone is chosen to stay in the hotel, some — indigenous person, and someone just celebrating the housewarming. I’m glad to everybody. Honestly. Each of you brings something new there. Sometimes with the crumbling walls, and sometimes with building bridges.

Do you like it here? I do not know. But I do know that winter here (even that it is severe) happens rarely. Rains periodically wash out past grievances and trash, and the wind blows away the dust of past years.

These cities are full of life. Somewhere in the air smells of love, somewhere sounds of children’s laughter. Somewhere in the windows shining a light of hope.

And even the cities themselves is alive. Sometimes they live their lives. It happens you want to visit someone, and you find there is only an empty chair … and the smell and the people moved out, without explanation. But there are moments when I was surprised to discover that long-forgotten neighborhoods come to life again, there is lit the light again in the windows and spreads nice music.

In general, Welcome … Just one request: do not scratch on the walls “I was here” … Repairs are an expensive event.