
There are no footprints in the sand of my beach.
My soul... is traveling lonely roads somewhere far away and I don't know where it is.
Maybe it is sitting in a comfortable train riding through the steppe somewhere in Siberia? Maybe in a small buss in the middle of India or a ferry boat here in my Baltic Sea?
Or is it flying an ocean in a silver plane..?
Somehow nothing is real enough. Even me.
Am I?