heraclio

Hans Klausmann
We looked at each other there and then but I don't seem to remember where and when. Lost between worlds, lost between cultures, lost between people, religious feelings forcing an endless narrative inside my Farang skull, feeling best when on the road with my greasy old faded jeans, my sweaty T-shirt, my bulky backpack containing my woldly possessions. Sleeping in third world rock bottom hotels, drinking cheap liqour with the locals, always in searching for a spiritual answer to my quest for peach and understanding. Shunning away from camara hung tourists but having no problemo with th
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