To escape from the world, I prepare my cigarette… I do it slowly, very fast, but very slow so that it doesn’t lose its load.
I check its load well – that everything goes well – that its seeds don’t rise and that its leaves fly quickly.
It is ready, with a small wet knot I close one door and leave the other one free.
I take it slowly and bring it to my mouth, hard air for the turbines to ignite or “carburize” as my friend says…
Sneeze…( to escape from the world).
Smoke begins to dissipate across the sky… this man has finally started his journey.
The journey begins but something happens, something went wrong, something is not as usual… this man has not taken me where I want to go.
This cigarette made with love has taken me to melancholy, to the constant question with the greatest restlessness… to the I don’t know…
