Labyrinth of reflections

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I want to close my eyes. This is normal: a colorful kaleidoscope, a whirlwind of bright sparks – it looks beautiful, but I know what is behind this beauty.

The Deep. It is called so in English but it seems to me that the Russian word { glubina } sounds better. Having broader meaning, it changes an attractive label into the warning: THE Deep! Sharks and octopuses live here. It's quiet, and presses, presses, presses by the endless space which doesn't really exist.

In general the deep is kind, in its own way of course. It accepts everybody. It requires just a little strength to dive, but so much more – to reach the bottom and to return. The first thing to remember: the deep is dead without us. One must believe and not believe in it at the same time.

Otherwise one day you'll not be able to surface.

The first movements are the most difficult. The small room, the table in the middle of it, computer wires from the UPS go to the computer, the thinner wire plugged into the phone jack. The sofa stands by the wall, under the luxury carpet, the small fridge is by the opened door to the balcony. The necessary minimum. Five minutes ago I checked what's in the fridge, so I'm not threatened by hunger for today.

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