I always wanted to leave.
 For my soul to fly like the birds.
 To feel the sweetness of an endless escape.
 Not to leave for other places.
 To leave my own life.
 To throw "stops" on my road.
 To demolish the signs that marked routes. To step on the dividing lines.
 To defy speed limits.
 To leave without a destination.
 An escape within the escape itself.
 As if I was always being chased by myself.
 And just when I found a clearing, to take a breath, brother, to set up a tent to rest, the alarm inside me would go off and deafen me.
 Leaving, I left behind a lot of trash.
 But in my haste, I also left behind very important things.
 Some expensive jewelry, for example, that some had given me to adorn my soul...