A boat and a mill.
The boat is a means of locomotion.
The mill is a tool to grind, So to produce.
The boat makes you dream, The mill brings back to reality.
A few days ago I entered a place and I found the brochures of the last edition of the Festival exposed to which I made my modest contribution for different editions: The journalism festival organized by my magazine, The illegal immigrant – with residence permit.
This magazine, and therefore also the Festival, By now there are no more.
We made history.
And we continue to do it, each in their own lair, each in their own den.
Each in their own mill, no longer on the boat.
However, we are careful to fight with the windmills, that it is better to drown in dreams?
