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The Most Beautiful of All

It came to my mind yesterday ,as I was driving, so I went to check it in the evening: the twentieth anniversary of my first poetry has just passed by.
Nothing important, just a personal commemoration.

Society

“This is living” was the masterful advertising of the latest video-games console.
Was that the real life? Was that the perception of living for millions of people, and not only kids or teenagers, happy to rush home, and close themselves in, just to play and join a virtual life?
Was it living to give up the real life, the real world, and spend instead time in front of a screen to fight, kill, drive, fuck?

Years Won’t Come Back

He got out of one of the bathrooms at the office. Deadened silence and the cold white of the neon-light.

He approached one of the five sinks lined up on the front wall to rinse his hands and face. Perhaps it would help him to finally wake up from his numb.

He looks at himself at the mirror, grinning.

Flashback.

Mountains of Mine

The legs are struggling while I’m going uphill, but they know the way.
The muscles harden more and more but they will resist.
Short breath, crazy heartbeat, the altitude starts to make me feel sick.
There could be a thousand excuses, a thousand reasons to stop and go back, down to the valley, but I chose my destination and nothing can stop me now
A little bit more, I hold on.
The last effort and behind that pass I’ll be there.

Writing

In the last couple of months, thanks to my situation of being unemployed and thanks to the early arrival of the Scandinavian autumn, I do what I’ve always dreamed of doing: the full time writer.
Daydreaming? A way to deceive myself? Or just doing something to keep myself busy?

Sunset

The sky slides fast tonight.

A layer of clouds like sheep following the instinct of the flock.

The sky doesn’t stop even tonight, it doesn’t care about anything, it goes on its way. Fast, selfless, free, it runs toward the infinity.

Yet it gives something, everlasting colours and moments, light games, astonishing sunrises and sunsets.

To who is brave enough to stop and look…