I’m a nomad. An adventurer. I’m on the road. Movement is my mode of being. I dwell in open space. My movement is exploration, and my pace is that of giants. I have stops around the world. They might be long or short. Stops are places of either discovery or sheer comfort, like oases in the middle of the arid desert. I am in search of something; a perpetually moving target. A Gestaltung truth. A process that is generating to all possible outcomes. An all-inclusive source. My mission ends only when I have encompassed life enough to speak confidently about it. What I am leading is anything but an ordinary and fixed journey. The time has come when I can accept a companion, but not yet that I should stop. There are many caves, fields of green and warzones that I still haven’t territorialized. There are still many tongues that I can’t speak. How can I speak of life, then, when all that exists outside of me? How can I know that I have seen enough to reach a conclusion?