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I'll be asking soon
Or looking in a drawer
Avoiding further thinking
How, who and when
And to think that it was once the same
It's a way to start the day like any other.
It's nothing more than not hitting the brake, but without a car.
The car is the night and search in the other part of the day
It is not the day, poetry
Forget about suffering or not sleeping
It just happens so suddenly
A state of mind
Of laments and discoveries
A memory for those who are no longer here
In that neighborhood of rusty nausea
Of transient sex, of the traveler
Of the endless days
We are very alone
But we have many friends
Finally, no one is going to travel
With me the whole way
With me the whole way
The traveler's journey
With open eyes
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