Altair (Travelogue)

The preparation to reach a place we do not know, between your hands I can see the rest of my life; a visit to each of the regions of the world. Clouds do not exist, everything is instantaneous, moments become gray and distant, we are two stripes in the sea that stick their heads out like little dolphins trying to find what they do not have at home.

We connect on a spiritual level, we know the world and its true colors and flavors. Things do not seem new to us, but we must seek the capacity for self-awareness at all times. We must open ourselves to adventure, to the unknown and also to what we have inside. Aesthetic experiences should also count as a journey, everything we do to rediscover beauty. Inside us there is something that tries to come out every time we are close to death. Two paths that meet, one is a bridge that is said that if you cross with your partner you are likely to get married.

I try to seduce you with my penetrating gaze and my cheap phrases nothing has the effect of talking about deep things like abortion. The world ended and began again, we met again where we left off. The society we live in gets excited about superfluous and empty things; the trash culture makes us appreciate things lost in the century not people's true hidden talents, television empties the brain.

Freedom of speech keeps me alive and aware of everything that happens. Find a place to show what you feel, but don't come to ruin the world for others. Let everyone enjoy the journey in their own way, living what they want to live, not what you are interested in; walk with your eyes looking at the ground without bothering anyone. Don't ask questions you don't want to get the answer to. What do you think gives you the right to talk like that about capitalism and its glories? The colonized world and the things it has to offer are empty constructs of meaning.

We shared the same bed and when the earth wanted it sent us to the place we wanted. The grayness of the atmosphere is cleansed, no one else travels by plane, the Milky Way is being reborn. Pain of my heart to hear your name on someone else's lips, someone who doesn't love you. The longest journey we will ever live is life itself, always trying to catch us in the clutches of routine. Man is made primarily of primal instincts, of reflex arcs and chemical reactions. We must love ourselves to love others. Who said that every trip we take has to be somewhere? Tourists are just another pedestrian in the place where they are passing through, just looking for the attention of others.

There are no words to help us describe the beauty or the air we breathe and the cultural differences. Love resurfaces again and again, as the passing of the years makes its weight felt in our lives. We ride on the tracks of a colorful subway train, a subway train that takes you south and north. The encounter with the unknown, the encounter with the place you are going to show off the most to your friends. Moments become complicated, there is no such thing as a moment, only this moment.

Photography by Marc Gassó