This story tells of the search for my self and true freedom.
But suddenly outside the box where marionettes live, is there a great real world? They are accustomed to exist in the false reality and every day unknowingly perform their roles in the continuous play. However, among the puppets is the interesting Piero, who notices infinite and true life - it rages on the theatrical walls. The hero protests against his role and humiliation that his puppets and his friends are doing.
So in an inanimate body there is a feeling and an irresistible desire to escape into a real living world - to cut threads. And do they want other dolls of the same? Do they need to go beyond the box, looking for their own "I"? Or maybe it's better to choose thoughtless performance of someone else's will and stability? Perhaps the best enthusiasm for existence is the paper moon that hangs on the cords...
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