High places are windy. As if in the orbit of the wind everything is forgotten. While your hair is flying like Heidi, the spirit inside you keeps taking off in the hills. A simple enthusiasm surrounds him. At that moment, it seems like you can do anything. Troubles that have grown into mountains are under their feet and you are on top of that mountain. But at the same time, heights frighten people. The higher you are, the more dangerous it is for you. Sometimes the wind is a deceptive invitation. It fills up and penetrates into your cells and accelerates the blood in your veins. Not every excitement is lovable, but excitement is, on the face of it, attractive. Man always desires the unattainable. For him, it is a flat plain he reaches.
We are deceived, most of the time, we think that the enthusiasm in the hills, the more the wind blows, the more we will breathe and we will feel that we live more. For some reason, enthusiasm is attractive. We think that it is the representative of his inner fidgeting. In fact, we can never erase the trace left on our palate by the most extreme emotions we have tasted. Sometimes we find it worth taking the risk, even if it is a web of dangers that will trap us.
But the disappointment of the enthusiasm falling from the hills is so inexplicable. There may not be any compensation. The more it flies, the deeper is the sad end of what we experience.
We go to the hill even if we want to hurt ourselves.
Who doesn't get a bird's eye view? People are small in your eyes as you see yourself big. Maybe it's a trick to be there, maybe it's a labor to go out to pass your nails. The sun is more beautiful there. The clouds are one closer. You are at the peak of enthusiasm when the wind is wandering like the master of your skin. The night is just another night. The lights are as if at your command. It is ingrained in the spirit of freedom. But you are also alone. Just a happy one.