What is the land? Is it perhaps a paradoxical and inexplicable world, delimited before the eyes of men who project their own personal limitations? Is it a "real" world made up of our own structures, inexplicable, impossible, but tangible in our memory, in our mind? Personally, I perceive them as auxiliary constructions, necessary to survive. We are impossible and amorphous beings wandering in a universe delimited by ourselves. If we close our eyes for a moment, if we walk without noticing our own thoughts, without listening to our own noises, it is possible to find an answer to a disturbing and disturbing question such as: What are we? Where we belong to? City Ruin, is the approach to a journey towards what is "real".