was thirsty ... and it was miles whistling the same song ... and a point was that tune ... the same fears ... and as I wished you were here ... yet the sun grew stronger at every step ... air kept suddenly hitting ... my hat flew with him ... I kept thinking about all ... Was still far ... my luggage at times seemed to disappear ... I had become accustomed to their heavy load ... and among such enormity was humbly ... I tried to light a cigarette, but fate wanted not to smoke ... it was my last match in the last blast ... far and could see the old mill ... continued his long life ... perhaps a sign that I approached ... dogs resting in the shadow of something ... an old tree ... an old car ... I had some time left here ... I went to try many things in the world ... if there was the world ... I never knew ... I went with a few dollars and some weights ... amedida of my steps I got closer to that old house ... you could tell the time without the hand of a man ... expected her ... expect much ... maybe the smile and joy back ... I went over the fence ... was silent all ... was strange ... expected all ... the door was ajar ... I played ... and opened ... anyone ... and nothing ... just a table in front of me ... and a note ... "Fuck you"
Laj Hakkinen, Mexico 1982 
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