I guess you think that I'm talking about memory simply because I want to tell you a fairy tale? You couldn't be further from the truth! I hate fairy tales! I just can't stand them. Since I was a kid they've been
ramming fairy tales down my throat, stuffing me with ice creams and dragging me down to the cinema. That's why I never visit the cinema any more, eat no ice cream - well, barely any - and I absolutely can't stand fairy tales!
    So why, you ask, do the things I say sound so much like fairy tales? This surprises me, too! But, since I'm a thinking person - as we both are, (if I'm not mistaken) - I don't just feel surprised, but start to think at once! Do you know what it is to think? Of course! And so do I, of course I do not know what is it. That's why I can almost never think anything out. Only some trifles, like when you are talking about memory, especially about that very memory of memories that is stored in our recollections of some other recollections - it always seems like a fairy tale…         And then another idea comes to me - maybe all fairy tales are just stories and recollections about memory?
  And the next thought is pushing others inside my head: when we talk about the present, we speak as per usual, when we dream of the future, there comes fantasy, but when we talk about our recollections of recollections we are telling fairy tales?
    Now a new thought forces its way into my head - if so, then none of the
tale-tellers have ever told tales, but have merely been retelling something retrieved from their distant memories, while sitting by the fireplace?
    And straightaway...

    Tell me, my friend, do you still think that you're able to think? I envy you. I've believed for quite some time now that my thoughts are thinking me. And me? And I am just a postman for them who has to deliver them to you.
    Sometimes I get tired of them and try to hide. There was a time when hiding was easy. But now I'm all grown up. All my life I've been busy with growing. Now there are very few bushes in the world that can hide me. And the thoughts themselves have been getting smarter over the last few years. Now it is much easier for them to find me. Probably because they've also been growing, and have become Big…
    And there's one of them again, knocking at my door:
    - To remember nothing would be such a blessing for a man!..     - There are no such people! - I counter, - Oh yes, there are, - it grins, - remember, you told me! But never mind. Let those who do not remember, never remember. But if a person starts to recall - what can be done to help him?
    - And why should we help him at all? Let him forget and go on sleeping. Sleep is very good for both children and thoughts! - I defending myself.
    - Oh, no - the thought says, clutching the cranium lid that I'm trying to slam down, - you won't get rid of me now. Answer me!
    - I don't know.
    - Then think! To think! How do you like that! And what is it like - to think? What must I do to start thinking? Knit my brow and put on my thinking cap?! Have you ever tried to put on such a cap? I've tried. It tickles you and you start having dreams about water. About everything flowing, everything changing. And everything itches inside, as if you'd swallowed a "Inquiry yourself" pill. You've never heard of such a pill?! Well, you really surprise me, my friend. They've stuffed me with them since childhood, I was given them instead of vitamins. It's a nasty thing, I'm telling you! You start itching all over. You keep itching from head to toe. And you know that scratching won't help you. Everybody thinks that it helps, but I've checked it out personally. You know, when I was little, I too thought that scratching would help. You just scratched once, and the itching would stop. But no, once you've swallowed a "Who am I?" pill - not even scratching your head will help you.

    Well, you know, sometimes it happens without any self-inquiring; you suddenly start itching like mad! And you keep scratching, you scratch here and there and everywhere - but all you need to do is just find the right place to scratch. You know this; you're big like me, aren't you? I know you are!     So, after a "Inquiry yourself" or a "Who am I?" pill, scratching is useless. You must endure it; and to do that you must freeze and stand still. Not a single movement, not even the slightest twitch. Not even in your mind. It will itch for some time, and then disappear. Then you'll be able to live quietly again. But, for God's sake, don't start moving! You make just the slightest hint of a move - and you'll start looking for an answer, that's for sure. Yes, you'll begin alright, and once you've started it'll be almost impossible to stop!    
    That's why I give you this advice: be watchful, don't ever sleep, and always be aware - don't let the Self-inquiring snake crawl up you and inject its question into your blood. You know, it's this very snake's poison that the "Who am I?" pill is made from.
   I'll put it even more frightfully. Afterwards you'll be ready to give up everything just to stop any self-inquiring, just to fall asleep again - and stop these recollections forever! Here, I'll give you a new picture. The postmen have called it
"Winter Castle." But don't believe them. That is the consequence from the time they were hiding themselves in the bushes. Now they're forever trying to hide something there. The meanings, for instance, or the real names of things.
    Turn off the light in your room and peer at the picture in the darkness. Immediately all the bushes will become transparent. Especially if you've got a hearth at home. In the glow of a bonfire or fireplace everything that was hidden is revealed. Everything hidden inside you, of course! That's because the light goes through us, and evokes our memory and lost meanings.
    So, turn off the light, light a fire in the hearth and peer into the picture. Don't be afraid. This is not recollection. This is a reminder. A reminder to every naughty child: if you go to self-inquiring - the same thing will happen to you!
    But how? - You ask.
    Have you read "The Little Prince" by Exupery? And if you have, then don't you recognize the Rose and the Planet?
    And where is the Prince himself? -You ask.
    And I answer: You're asking the wrong question. Surely, I'll answer: it's not that hard. Here you go. The Prince, as you know, has gone on a quest. He is looking for the answer for some unknown question. Everybody knows this. I'll even tell you something that you've already guessed yourself. Now the Prince is in the Castle. But had you asked the right question!…