I never leave
Without an intent
To come back.

I step strongly
So I can find my footprints,
I look carefully the landscape,
The coordinates, the relief,
Even the sounds.

But sometimes all traces fade,
There's no point of knowing coordinates
If one doesn't know where he is
Rather than oneself.
The only thing I know:
I'm here, wherever I am.

Even lost
Sometimes I'm surprised
With a glance of a memory;
Maybe I've been here
Ten or twenty years ago,
Maybe it resembles somewhere else.
Still comforting, though.
Memories and returns
Calm me,
Ease my anxiety,
Brings a kind of hope
That has no explanation at all,
An exhilarating and dangerous hope
That keeps me forward
With the expectation that,
Somewhere ahead I'll meet
A future long passed.

To have a choice
Is to distinguish,
To have appearances revealed,
To create position and assertion,
Is to judge and differentiate.

Choice comes from
Our miserly characters,
The aim for individuality
In a discriminatory way.

Choices are all but rational,
And in all of them lie
A contradiction within,
Born in our own will
To justify, and all fall apart.

In universe and nature
Holds no choice.
It is as human as bombs,
Computers, medicine:
Never good, never bad,
Just things that at a moment
Start to exist.

Even though choices are never material,
They're still real