
Now I am studying at the Faculty of Architecture. Not because I dreamed of building houses, but because it is important for me to understand how space works. How lines become shapes, how emptiness becomes a place where someone will live, wait or leave. I'm not more interested in buildings, but in what's between them.
I live alone - a small apartment with windows facing the courtyard, where there are almost never people. I often don't sleep at night. At this time, the city seems more honest: less noise, fewer other people's expectations. I go out for a walk, take a notebook with me and draw - not so much what I see, but what I feel. Sometimes these are streets that are not on the map. Sometimes - places that I have never been to, but for some reason I know exactly what they look like.
I have a strange habit - I write down my dreams. They are too clear to simply forget them in the morning. They contain repeating routes, buildings, even people. And sometimes I catch myself thinking that I recognize something from them in real life - a turn, a staircase, a feeling.
I don't talk about this to almost anyone. People either don't believe it or start asking too many questions. For now, it’s more important for me to observe than to explain.
I don’t have many friends, but those who do know that if I disappear for a couple of days, it doesn’t mean that something happened to me. Rather, on the contrary, it means that I finally found something important.
I'm not sure where exactly I'm going. But I have a feeling that everything I do - all these notes, night walks, strange sketches - adds up to one big map. And sooner or later she will lead me to a place where everything will fall into place.

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