You are looking at a white spot. Your thoughts are blurred, your emotions are suppressed. You look at the white spot and understand: you are being judged.
Judgment cannot be avoided. Don't fool the judges. After all, they are part of you, they live in your mind and ruthlessly, impartially evaluate the soul. White spot? But only? No. The eyes capture the reflected photons, but the brain collects the picture from them. What do you think about when you see a white spot? What does your painting look like? Do you understand that the sentence depends on her?
To some, the spot seems to be an exit from the tunnel to light and happiness. They will be justified. For some, it will remind you of snow, games, joy. They will be honorably released.
But there are those who look deeper. Who remembers the eternal damnation of the wise - to believe not in their own eyes, but in knowledge. They are well aware that not only snow is white, and in the world there is a flame so bright that the cities, scorched by it, manage to leave only a bright silhouette, a white spot in the middle of a dead desert.
Ask yourself: can a shadow be white? And if, before answering “no,” you think even for a moment - even for an infinitesimal fraction of a moment - know that you are condemned.
From now until death you are an adult.

This novel can be considered an attempt to escape ...