The point is that there is no point in wandering around in Alphaville. The city has two parts, one for the sane, the other for the miserable. I spent six nights in the third part: Alphaville is the city of no love. The women thrive on dry tears and shaved memories. In the old times, they called it the city of the last things. I did not want to come here. I was thrown into this damned existence, this struggle for finding the lost path of...
Who cares, I am not sure. I do not have a destination anyways. What I am certain of is that Alphaville is the point of no return.
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