I sat on the railing, thinking if all I had lived up to that moment had been worth it , watched as people crossed from one side to another in just a few minutes, but no one was watching me so much, as I watched them, to be honest, I was indifferent to the eyes and what is more, to the ears of them, who did not even wanted to know my name, much less know me.

I observed families, single people, infidels, dreamers, any variety of human, and yes, I was sitting on the railing with excruciating pain, tired of walking, I took a few days walking, i was lifting my finger, hitch-hiking waiting for someone to pick me up some miles, I smelled bad, I stunk, but I knew that when i crossed that bridge, my past and all that I was living, would be part of my history.

Ignacio Bazan

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