"Constantly in discussion, between me and me, between me and me.
Always, I look at you, and I see myself, I look into the tree, it has nothing of its green, it has the green of my eyes, its skin is mine, my fingers touch me when I caress it. We always talk about me, about how I am, about my choices, about my state of mind, today the sky is damn gray, and the wind disfigures my cheeks, it is as if I wanted to hurt myself. Everything is colder on a bike, what do you have to look at? I think as I pass a guy on the phone, he's writing something, he's like me, maybe he's looking at himself too. He is looking for something, among the leaves, among the wooden columns, he is looking for something in my gaze. We are similar and we know it, there is a certain harmony between our eyes, step forward. I continue straight through a ditch."
