Soundtrack: Jack Strify - fix me (acoustic version)

 We're sentimental and it makes us doing stupid things like returning to the memorable places. Lean my head backwards laughing, brush away the fiery curl from my face and look around entering an empty Theater. Trust me, I don't strive to enter the same river twice, and if it were possible - I've got no wish to do so. Finally.

Walk along the dusty seats, hm, I could find mine with eyes closed despite I wasn't a frequent guest in here back then. But I missed no play looking into a small dirty window from the outside, while I wasn't allowed in... by myself, clenching the bunch of keys in my pocket in front of the heavy oak doors raising into the sky.

I wasn't just the most dedicated spectator - I was the scriptwriter also. It was a rain season, maybe it influenced the fact I produced mostly dramas. Cold and dark evenings I used to spend making characters for my Puppet Theater pricking my fingers with a needle thus painting their faces red. And their red lips were smiling at me viciously from stage for being forced staying outside watching my own play.

Now it all makes me laugh - this theater has always been empty. You have always been. You were my theater and I was the only spectator. I don't need the keys anymore, these doors have never even been locked.