All cities are dreams

These pages are nothing but an attempt to explain and explain my astonishment at what I saw in Europe, and an attempt to discover oneself when I went to a completely different world. I was observing life in all its details, and I was also observing me in an attempt to explain my astonishment at what I saw. When we move away, we see ourselves differently, and the truth becomes clear. We see the scene more. Deep down, there are feelings and thoughts that float to the surface when a person finds himself in another place, and this is not a book about travel or about Europe, as much as it is a long journey in which I traveled to myself in the past, present and future through these cities. As soon as my feet set foot on the airport floor and I went up... To the plane, I dive into my depths, not knowing fear, joy, or escape. I cling to me completely. I travel to my childhood and youth. Details of scenes that never occurred to me before appear before me. I remember my childhood, my school years, my home, and my friends. I remember the dead and the funerals that I walked behind their companions to their resting place. Finally, I remember the neighborhoods, I walk in the streets and sleep in the rooms, and I return to my childhood life. Years, months, weeks, and days accumulate before me. I travel far away, as if the plane was heading to the past, traveling with me through time before it crossed the place.