Is it obsessive

wearing a black hat and compulsively smoke cigarrette after cigarrette just because you feel as Rick in the middle of a strange city?

Is it obsessive

trying to fly en the swap of the word 'w-i-n-d", looking for fire in a butterfly, or writing the same poem every Fall with a mountain of rotten leaves?

Is it obsessive

wondering who I am and, at the same time, wasting my days improving my own disguise?

Is it obsessive

believing in no faith with the conviction I'll eventually find out any meaning in the eyes of a little familiar unknown?

Is it obsessive

being lost when your life is solved?

asking always for something more?

feeling cold?

Asshole...

Isn't it obsessive

passing through when you come across a...

REDEMPTION