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I travel mainly to get to know my geography. When I do, I feel a terrible fear. I am more afraid to get to know myself; that’s what panics me, to dive inside my interior, to get lost in the unfathomable void we all carry inside, get to know some day who I really am. The unknown city that opens up before my eyes gives me the feeling of a labyrinth with no way out. More than freezing images of daily life of that place, I try to catch myself, find me in that rectangle I stop in time, connect those lost codes that wander through my desires in oblivion. Pessoa said that traveling is to loose countries, that when we arrive, everything we had imagined disappears from out memory. I don’t loose countries, perhaps I loose the person I believe I am, the one that really puts on masks and I had only imagined to be.
"I wasn't scared, I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost..."

Jack Kerouac, On the Road.
"I wasn't scared, I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost..."

Jack Kerouac, On the Road.
Photos and text: © Sergio Castañeira
Lost Keys