Once a year I take the farthest route walking to my stop; it's funny, the calmness inside yourself, seeing all those strange faces that don't know you, don't know you. And you find yourself out there in the city alone, realizing you don't need anything while the cigarette burns your fingers, just walking. Quiet, not remembering, burning in silence.
I can call it my own personal therapy.
Photography by Martin Canova
Hello, many times during the day my head is a victim of inspiration and ideas in disorder, maybe I'm crazy or not, but so what? Here I want to share some of it for everyone.