Падаем в небо

Sometimes it's simple: a warm bath, a few fresh thoughts, and someone with whom you don't need to explain the obvious. The world outside the window spins as usual, but inside it's as if you've launched your own satellite - quiet, homely, with neon walls and the sky instead of a ceiling.

And in it, you can fall - not down, but to a place where infinity is not frightening. When glances replace dialogue, and rain and snow seem like one and the same element, just in different states of aggregation. A little drunk with feeling, a little like birds without a destination. Eternal ‘falling together’ - as a way to fly, if you still don't have wings.