I travelled for a long time.
For days I walked.
For days I sat on the floor of a train.
For days I sat in prison.
For days I slept in the street.
I had nothing to eat.
My clothes were thrown away by the smugglers.
My shoes were torn.
I did not recognise myself.
I did not look like myself.
I had reached the zero point in my life.
I had reached the point where nothing can make you happy anymore.
I felt I had forgotten what living is.
All of it was all too much.
And endlessly exhausting.
I thought for a moment that I could no longer keep going.
But once you’re on the road and you do not know
Where the end will be, you have to go on.
There is no turning back.