I start the year in Amsterdam. Maybe a sign of what was to come.  I come back in Bucharest only to soon find myself in the wreck of what was 10 seconds ago my car. I drive insanely and my insanity almost lost someone’s life, even so I left a friend with a multiple hand fracture. No car insurance, no inspiration to lie to the police that there were no victims. I lose my license, I lose my car and for some reasons in that crash I fell that I lost a lot more than that. From there it’s all s rollercoaster. For a second I lose my sanity, I lose everything. I run away, finding myself each day in a different place.  I wake up in a hotel room in Rome; I have no idea how I got there and not even bother to wonder. No plans, no purpose, only trying to fight off my own demons that consume me. I enjoy, I see and admire each of the beautiful things that my road has to offer me. I see old friends, I dig up ghosts of the past, I manipulate and dose my emotions to find the balance that I seek so much. And for the time being, it seems to work. Drugs, 100 GB of photos, 400 kilometers of walking, 10 hours of flight, 5 hours of sleep a night, 2 hours of sleep a day in strange places, thousands of beautiful things seen. Each day a new town, each week a new country, and for now the hotel room is my home. Eventually I come back. Work. I go to Sofia in delegation. I come back. I leave to Portugal. I come back but in 7 days I’m back in Barcelona.

And after all this, what’s left is a lot of beautiful captured memories through the lens ,much more in my head, and none of them feel  like being  mine.  Don’t bother asking yourselves what this post was all about; it’s more of a public monologue with only half of what is to be said  .
I hope you enjoy the photos; each one has a little piece of my soul that I lost on the way.

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