Is a never-ending journey searching for nothing, steps over steps ... lento ... andante ...sostenuto ... phrenetically contemporary. Thousands miles away from home, still looking for the Eldorado, for our Chimaera of old.
And every place is like the other, the vision is perpetual, life flows in front of us, in a fake delirium. No roots linking us to anything, lonely and alienated, the only certainties are vain hopes.
The exaltation of the super-man is leading us to what? We are earthen vessels, destined to the earth. Because at the end of everything, what is left from our never-ending journey is the memory of the route.