The years go by, and the fragile linguistic net of magic words gets wider and more dispersed, as the elusive kisses and meaningless tokens of attention are weaved in. Now, the emotions are just the icons, just a cheerful set of cartoonish forms, which offer hypocritically to express through them any glow of the heart. Modern means of communication provide one with maximum of imitation constructions, which appeal to the effect of total presence, where the willingness to be available borders with illegibility of feelings.
Brackets and smileys, widely used in contemporary communication, are, perhaps, the no less magical replacement for the magic words. Yet still, at what pace does this enchantment exhaust itself? How many times should one repeat the "word" in order to drain powers out of it? How can one figure out the bearable borders of sincerity, the borders, beyond which even something never told, stringing between two sights, is totally depreciated?
Between two words, which were never pronounced, the whole world can arise, within it a home can be placed, and this home can be wrapped in cocoon of embraces and dreams. As we get older, we lose the capacity to believe in one’s own world, we become captives of "objective reality", invented by somebody else. Being tired, we fall asleep and drift through dreams; oh, a shame that this falling allows to recover only sometimes, helps to believe in magic –exquisitely rarely.When the clouds are dissolved and the last dreams vaporize from the morning sky, we turn back on the window and welcome the new home. Here there is an anteroom, where we are happy to meet guests, a kitchen where we enjoy cooking, a hall where we talk while drinking tea, cup by cup, dining room where glorious dinners are held and corridor where short dates happen; attic – for fantasies and memories; bedroom, where we live and see dreams, study where the work is on, library where the time has stopped, gallery where the portraits of people, whose importance we sense but whose personalities are obscured, occupy the walls; maybe, here one might even find a bathroom, wardrobe, and storeroom – all kind of normal corners. Everything is almost like at home here, just a trifle different from the way we wanted to believe it should be. This space knows no other magic words except the ones we knew from the very beginning. Magic is a mystery of our imagination, and for the time being this mystery hides itself somewhere around here.