El Paraiso del Loco

To live in a constant state of alarm and vigilance, waiting for the rooster to crow at any moment. To think that a spell snatched everything from the traveller’s gaze, just as magical staves make captives disappear. Perhaps more typical of a madman is to look for the entrance that leads to a paradise, that entrance that only exists in the traveller’s imagination. To find it swiftly, like a perpetual memory of our sin. To look back at the place, but to see nothing anymore. What was once a door is now the solid surface of a rock. And yet, the dream is so strong that we cannot help but make our way back there.