All cities have their shapes. Some are slim other are rich. Some are dull. Other are laughable. Most of them also have many shapes. Some have almost all inclusive.
Lviv’s shapes speaks a special language of many masters. Some masters where elegant. Some just tried to confuse. Making us lost in reality. Like the Soviet Era. They even planted great trees, just to confuse and defuse.
I find the Soviet firs especially intrigues. I always feel how impuissance capture me when I see them. They crush all my thoughts in just standing there. Fearlessly, looking at me. Stretching out their arms to grab me. Into emptiness.