White, Worm, Coloured Russian Night. After a day of everything, kilometers and kilometers around the closed close world in East-direction. After a shocked start, built by cyrillic, understanding, people and life.
Now is the not-retourn point, the sweetsalade mix between bureaucracy and craziness that will bring everyone with it. And a mix between something behind myself and someother in front us: to loose and to find, to loose and to find again, looseandfind without end.
Now, is time to close the eyes on this city finally founded, time to close the eyes finishing to fill it inside.
Finally Moskow need go to sleep, and nobody is able to be stronger when she decide to close the eyes…