Kirill Seattleov looks at the world through the prism of childhood carpets and adult frustration, where even a tea mushroom deserves a little more respect than most of humanity. His search for meaning in absurd everyday life, where cucumbers are sometimes more logical than news, turns into a walk through a forest of traumatic memories and everyday paradoxes.
Within this universe, there are adult experiences and childhood fears in disguise and without, and the meaninglessness of the world is clearly readable even in bees - at least they know why to live. Kirill's fatigue of confessions and constant fuss takes on a cynical irony, leaving only the question: where does freedom end and self-pity begin?
