3/2. Message to God

The second idea is a house in the mountains. We need to separate ourselves from society and from everything that gets in the way. The main character's diary becomes a symbol, in which he records the history of the house.

He began writing again the day he heard the word that quietly unraveled everything — amnesia.
He still remembered everything: faces, dates, smells, himself. But there was something else — a subtle shift, like a shadow touching the back of his mind. As if an invisible clock had started counting down. So, the diary returned. Not as a habit, but as a final attempt not to vanish. Word by word, he began pulling out fragments — not of stories, but of significance. Thoughts long buried in silence began to speak.

With each forgetting, something else began to open — something that had waited patiently for him to stop. The old “self,” filled with urgency, goals, noise, began to dissolve. In its place: emptiness — not hollow, but alive. An emptiness into which something unfamiliar was stepping in.
He built a house in the mountains. Not just to live in — but to be in. But the higher he climbed, the more he saw: The walls were rising, but something inside him was sinking. The house no longer felt like a structure — it began to feel like someone. A presence. A will. A shadow of another life. Whose vision was he building?