Feeling you at every age.

Bring me back to those days

push me down the cliff

of memories sweet and lost,

we got swallowed and happy

'cause nothing matters

if you make it senseless

and nothing's serious

if you make it pointless.

Tear me down again,

once more I'm asking you

these bones are cold

and these eyes look old.

Shape me once more

into your endless flame

and bring me up there

where we can't be tamed.

'cause nothing is buried

if you make it deathless

and nothing's binding

if you make it chainless.

...

Anche se è pomeriggio ho appiccicato addosso quella melma vischiosa e sentimentale tipica della notte fonda.

E' una notte di ricordi, di sensazioni che ritornano, di cose irrisolte e mai pienamente affrontate.

E' una notte in cui ogni propria imperfezione viene posta in evidenza e tutta la propria vulnerabilità degli anni passati e presenti viene contabilizzata e sommata, quasi a formare un esosissimo conto che non si avrà mai la facoltà di saldare.

E' una pseudo notte in cui si cercano i punti d'appoggio più scontati, i porti sicuri e, regolamente, non si trovano perché paiono sempre - almeno provvisoriamente - irraggiungibili.

E' una pseudo notte densa e pesante e il problema principale è che la notte, quella vera, deve ancora venire...

verso luoghi

"Saluta tutti ridi scherza mangia.
Sarà divertente, importante, risaputo.
Raccogli quanto di qui ti è caro e ti trattiene.
Fai un'abbuffata di certezze, che hai la certezza di essere un tuffo nel nero.
Non è mai confortante lungo la via non sapere che vita vivere,
rifletti e cammina che le crepe si sgretolano.
Quando passa la corrente maestra? voglio solo essere sospinto".

crumbling earth

Everything is bouncing
Everything is crashing
Just hope to get out of here
alive.
And possibly in a rather good shape.

rumors of travel

Just try to stay calm
even if your head is pushing your brain out.
Think everything works at its best, it must.
Don't consider how much is to come
but, above all, try not to think
how much you just want to sleep.

a room, the old one...

"She entered the room, the darkest one, to be sure she could feel somewhat afraid of something.
She decided not to turn the light on, in order to guess each and every thing stored inside by the mere touch of her hand.
[...]
Then she reached a round object with a handle. It was all wooden and carved, except its central part, whose surface was smooth yet dusty and dirty.
She realize it was a small mirror, and she realized it could have been stored there for years, maybe decades, who knows.
She touched the backside of the mirror and noticed its wooden surface was all smooth except some scratches that covered the whole side. They weren't accidental, all of them seemed placed in a rational way, in order to compose a symbol or a word.
[...]
She followed the scratches with her fingertips in order to figure out which sign they formed.
It was no symbol or silhouette, but just two words written in a very irregular way: HELP ME.
[...]
She started to get it, so that she couldn't resist and went out of the room, in order to expose the mirror to the lamp light.
She was horrified as she realized the mirror was reflecting her face. As a crying and frightened 8 year old baby.
[...]

astounding and terrifying.

Astounding and terrifying
the unleashed power of creation
Reminding us we're just grains of sand
thinking eternal while waiting to be wiped out.

But in our vaporizing life lies the magic of this all...
parts that unite in the whole.