At first I walked through the walls in total darkness, not bumping into anything, confusing only in an infinite space, a heavy and impenetrable "no way out." The search was so tiring, but filled with something hot, that from the thought of one, as if you would suddenly and unexpectedly break into a door, a window, or at least feel for a switch, it became so "strong" on the soul that be near a mountain, and not a blind darkness , then you would have definitely pushed it, or maybe even carried it on to another part of the continent. How much courage gives a person searches, expectations, and most importantly - the point. And although we know that we idealize a lot, and that in reality everything will turn out differently, and to be more precise, it is not our way at all, but still we do not cease to dream. Right now I will find a way out and under the solemn music and the salute bursts I'll get out, and there someone will wait for me, supposedly, it's time to be happy.
But you will stumble on the door, you will tinkle the handle creakily, the light will flood you from head to toe, and you are not at all pleased with it.
And back to the darkness.

And again - the search, expectations, dreams.