Here, far from what I would like to be close, in this depressing city sky, the stars seem to just pin holes, which filters the radiation of a world much brighter than mine. A huge, oppressive and dark curtain covers it, and denies it.
What do again, if you do not remember when, up there with you, the myriad of stars looked instead to a flowery meadow of life, a parallel universe next door, put there for us to let us watch and dream.
But maybe I only dreamed of. And this doubt, the expression of my being, materializes in the dark hood, gloomily placed on absolute light, which can only filter through the small holes created by one of my crazy dream, fragments of desire and happiness thrown against the absolute enemy, but too weak, only able to scratch a little.
real name, my nemesis. The only real enemy, the only challenge already lost cause. Extremely faint, extremely variable. We present it as a tattered hood or as a bright field, its essence remains the same: a chain anchored to the brain, biting our hearts.
the day is not known, the reality. Everything is bright, everything is sharp and clear. But it's the night the house of cards collapses, that our certainties become frightened shadows, kept alive only dall'ignobile light of a lamp post. That's why we sleep at night, because we are afraid. The night suggests, the brain relaxes his chain, we see how we really are, we sense the essence of the world. But the light from two ramshackle hole is not enough to show clearly the design.
do not know why I write, I do not know what I'm looking nor I know what I tried to express ... the words flow from the sun, at times the voice of the heart, when the bite of reality is slightly loose. It 's always the same, trying desperately to bring his message. E 'choked monotone, desperate. Paranoia, in the light of the sun.
But, in the dark, is another small hole open, another puncture on the skin of reality. This is why I feel compelled to write, though, knowing the reason, I almost feel ashamed to do so. I feel repetitive, I feel unfair, and I'm obsessive.
I'm sorry, even if I do something wrong, because otherwise I can not do. I grew and changed, but my essence is, and my need continues.
I watch a star. One of the few in this city sky.
I look at it and do not understand.
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