My journey is silent. Sometimes I quietly wait in line, sometimes I close my eyes and let the wind cradle me whispering tales about fabulous worlds where the future is sweet and free. My journey is infinite: fear and desire to cross the line crash into me, tormented by the dread of limits and by the pleasure to break them. My journey is circular: a never-ending search for that missing element that could make me complete and at the same time an everlasting hidden wish that I could miss that element forever, so that I could continue my journey. A path with no start and no end. My journey is made of air… I close my eyes and fly.