Lonely town. Exercises in the art of loneliness (№ 381974)

Imagine: you're standing at night at the window on the sixth, or seventeenth, forty-third floor of a building. The city opens for you as a set of cells, hundreds of thousands of Windows, some dark, some flooded green, or white, or Golden light. They here and there pass strangers, busy with myself. You see, but not reach them, and because it's a common urban phenomenon in all night in any city in the world, according to even the most sociable thrill of loneliness, it is an uncomfortable combination of disunity and nudity.