I set out to scrutinize a place and search for nightmares at every point. I want to observe the destructive power of time in a place. I thought that if I did this once, I could sleep comfortably, even if it was a little bit. When a house disappears in time, a street ahead, a few kilometers away, I can't sleep because I'm curious about what's lost there. Although this feeling does not eat away at me, it causes other things to accumulate. I feel like I've been punched in my stomach and I can't vomit.
I wonder about those who make the journey there, how they are greeted at their destination, and what happens during their stay. I wonder if there are fights, lovemaking, laughter, laments, hug...