Conclusion

After rereading the diary, for a brief moment I no longer wanted to publish it. I thought that sometimes I express my thoughts rather awkwardly, that my knowledge is not enough to tell about something in an interesting way, and that I write what seems important to me at the moment. Photographs do not convey the beauty of those places. And words cannot express all the feelings that were inside me…

A thought came to me: my diary is a house. The reader sees the house from the outside, sees how it is built, sees the little garden by the house, the windows with shutters, the curtains on the windows, the chimney and the weather vane on the roof. From the appearance of the house, one can draw certain conclusions about the person who lives there. One can even peek into the windows and see the rooms inside the house. The fireplace, the sofa, the rug, the chandelier, the pictures on the wall. And it may seem that you know even more about the person who lives there. And some of it will be true, and some of it will not. After all, we see everything and everyone through the prism of ourselves. And no matter how hard I try to describe my house, to show what it looks like, something will still remain behind a closed door…