Why I am writing?
I decided to deviate from the subject and to write about myself. What can I actually tell people? Who am I? Why am I writing a book? What is the reason? That is a stumbling rock; a couple of days ago I described a very stupid reason why I had been writing a book. It concreted my mind and an energy flow for the book. Sooooo, I am rebooting the flow all over again.
I write, because I can not stay away from writing. As far as I remember myself, I always had a desire for this kind of creativity. When I was seven, I had the big thick black squared notebook and a ballpoint pen, which had a gnawed top, so, I wrote and described a story of a character named Freckle with my neat childish handwriting. It was a redheaded boy, who decided to find a gorgeous princess. He met different kinds of monsters, interesting fairy tale characters, provokers and speaking animals, a variety of miracles and many more things. Everyone, who met Freckle, was trying to give the best piece of advice about how to find the princess as soon as possible. For example, they offered to kidnap her under cover of the night, pretending to be Batman or to take part in a cruel contest. It certainly supposed to be a deadly combat, as if they could not offer something more peaceful and useful for all of the participants. Triathlon competition or a marathon race could be a wonderful alternative. They also offered to win in a fight with a scary dragon, who surely protected her without sleeping at all. As if dragons did not have any other things to do but sitting in a hypogeum daily and nightly, listening to the princess' weeping, besides, she was ready to die by her own hand because of melancholy and idleness.

Moreover, they offered to make a mash on the princess. It definitely was a tough task. Usually, it meant to gratify the exotic desires of that lady. It was something like to bring her a rare fruit of an eternal youth, or a feather from the Firebird's ass, who lived so far away in Heaven meadows. Also, it might be a task to find a dress made by a magician designer, which he saw in a secret under the full moon, decorating it with some mysterious signs and spells and then locked it in the box which was hidden on a Secret Isle from a fairytale. The Isle was under protection of a stupid giant with low self-esteem, which arose from his giant mommy's lack of love, by the way, she died from depression while she was watching over the other box on the other isle during the orphan giant's childhood. A fantastic basket of offers was so diversified and sly fairytale characters were full of tricks.

However, none of those little and not really magical geniuses asked a question - why would Freckle need the princess? He was too young to be interested in princesses. Why would he really need her in his life? Why should he walk over hill and over dale to reach that strange lady? And, finally, the most important thing – what would he do when he met her?

Would he dance an incredible Hawaiian jig using a modern electronical music, than would he make an oath about eternal and unconditional love and would they go for searching an existential reason for living on a flying carpet, or, may be, in a blue helicopter, it depended on pieces of scenery, which would be offered in a script? Of course, I did not think of that in my seven-year-old innocent thoughts, but I was writing about that wonderful magical country on a regular basis and with a cosmic discipline, inspired by the books of a writer with a last name Volkov, who managed to tell an American story in Soviet Union way of description.

Where is that notebook now? What happened to the redheaded Freckle (obviously, he was Irish) and to that fairytale princess (she was of the unknown but surely noble origin)? I do not remember (ASK my parents). HOWEVER, right here and right now I have a clear understanding, a very clear one that the book is about a Journey.

It is about the Journey, which everybody makes through the life. We can make it either slowly or fast, with all our awareness or without, whether we sleep or we are in coma. The Journey does not have any final point, but it has the passing points. All of those points are important and not important at the same time, a vector – this is what is really important. The direction of your actions is important, but the main thing is about us, about who we become during the Journey and which side we choose.

As for me, making my own Journey while writing the book, I will work so hard to inspire, to support and to amuse everyone, who will read my book and I will keep moving, even when I would want to quit and send everything so far away to a fairy tale magical granny on a faraway glade with a Miracle Tree. However, it seems to me, that is time and we need to depart.

So, let's go! Let's hit the road, dear magicians!

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