Text and photography by Flemming Bo Jensen
"Tired. The sort of tired sleep cannot fix. Broken. Everything I know is wrong. Must keep driving".
My words from half a decade ago. The road promised new experiences at the time. Empty promises perhaps, but it was something at a time when all hope was lost. A promise of a better tomorrow? An illusion? I had to keep moving. When I stopped the shadows caught me.
I stare at the edge. I know this place. I am visiting an old friend. I called it home for decades. Part of me never came back. Part of me is still out there wandering, freefalling into insanity.
