· ФФ·ФЛЛ·Ф · As you incredulously follow the seemingly randomly strung-together letters and symbols through the tunnel in my memory, you inevitably think of your mirror image, torn apart and separated from you, looking up and out at you from the depths within. · ФФ·ФЛЛ·Ђ · Does it perceive itself in the same moment, in the same passage, as you do? In a river that seems to flow in circles, winding around its own axis, only to delve deeper into itself. Or does the being in my thoughts not perceive or notice itself at all, believing itself to be in an entirely different world, facing an entirely different context, learning to perceive and behold itself from a completely different perspective? In the Mirror’s Core · ФФ·ФЛЛ·Њ · You follow the lines deep into and down to the foundation of my thoughts—meeting in ever-new constellations—to the foundation of yourself. Until suddenly, far beyond the tunnel in your mind, a tall tower becomes visible, you slowly lower your gaze and carefully, letter by letter, take the final steps toward the gate. The Letter Gate
