This is the insane tower on my black horizon, haunting, strange, floating, and shimmering with a strange haze of shiny dust. I feel as if I have been walking towards it for years, yet it remains as unattainable as ever. I know its history. I know who I will find there. I know whose flowers will bloom in my palms if I touch even a single thorn.
Sometimes it seems to me that my life is not a journey towards it, but rather it is coming towards me with a terrifying inevitability...
//Ivan Solyaev, 2024
