Author's description of the project:

I came home for a week and stayed for almost two months. At home, I feel calm and well, as I have not been anywhere lately. Only in childhood. I love this place. Everything is familiar. But everything has gone somewhere. And it won't happen again. Will not come back. But it shouldn't come back.

I was no longer part of those people. I know everything here, and the place seemed to tell me: "Look, you are already a stranger, your time has passed." I was uncomfortable when I came to the local disco, village day or just walking around. It was embarrassing because of the age difference. My peers have not gone anywhere for a long time, they have become family. One classmate died of skin tuberculosis. Seeing me on a bicycle with a backpack in slightly holey leggings and shorts, taking pictures, people looked like they were at an astronaut. I felt that the space specifically involved me in this game, tested me, and then began to help. Or maybe they stopped caring about me. Apparently, I was no longer a stranger.

Time accumulates in the piggy bank of memories inside me. I carefully take them out one by one, as if developing a film. As then, I come to watch the sunset on the lake. Near the lake there is a cemetery where grandmother, grandfather and cousin Sergey are buried. I never saw him. He lived for 4 days. Sky. It's an amazing sky. I recalled an interview on the radio in Holland. I was 13 or 14. The host asked something about Holland. And I said that I really like it here, and that our countries are very similar. He asked in surprise, why? I replied that we have the same beautiful sky and grass as they do. Everyone laughed for a long time.

I finally got my freedom back. Sometimes consciousness prevents you from being liberated, but now everything is different. I would like to keep this feeling, as when I was a teenager. Space is something very huge, and time seems to be eternal. It's us humans aging inside and out. We become small, stooped, depending on everything beings. I suddenly think that the time will come when my mother will die. And I will have to move on. I didn't think about it before. I'm scared. I rewind time. I go and everything repeats. I'm scrolling through my memories to the end, but I've only gone part of the way. I return my thoughts to the place where I was born, to nature, to the earth. I feel free again.