Greater things and greater man
Are made of broken bones and harder flesh
Of sinful howling and cruel desire
Of ow full wisdom and own will
Only the longing pass and the scarier future
Are the walls in the room of fulfilment.
We are so touch dead we are essentially two zombies kissing each other to life.
Well It was my first at "Adventure" day wasn't' it?
It was in the early hours of the morning, the traffic outside the shop windows was still very calm and we had only a couple of clients in the past twenty minutes. I was cleaning one of the tables near the corner where the fake plant stood when the doors open for a good-looking mid-aged man. Hal, who is ever the very personification of politeness, asked him what he wanted... he replayed "Give me the strongest espresso you are able to made and you won't have to think about the money for the next 50 years of your life...". Hal sniggered but proceed as requested. I was getting close very slowly like a predator in the savannah while my mind was ...
There's people who can stop themselves asking how and why.
How this and that are the way they are, if there's a reason beside everything, if there is a reason within themselves, their world, their mind, their problems... But we are machines who hope in an universe of reasons and answers but all we find is that the chaos creates us, the involuntary war between entropy and inertia created life. And we are terrified because this make us the only thing that outrun this war, that can overcome it.
The cage is sharp and cold, it's heavy and suffocating.
Nobody can see it, only you, the prisoner, can feel it.
But it's real, it's there. It's made of memories and losted occasions, of dead desires and empty times.
It's not an illusion, it's your war, the one you need to win. The cage makes a warrior of you, you are not a slave of your past, of your inefficiency, of your not be enough, you are a hero.
Write it in bold letters and never forget it. You are a fucking hero.
It all began this way: I was on my way home when this homeless person approaches asking me if I never ever have seen Mr. Smith walking his dog down the street at night. I was very aware that the infamous Mr. Smith has three fishes, a cat, two rabbits but never ever a dog, so I was wondering if the strange man was mad or if I was having hearing problems but he insists... have I ever see Mr. Smith walking his dammit dog? My dear friends, I respond, I can absolutely declare that I have never ever seen Mr. Smith walking his dammit dog. He never ever had a dog, nor small nor big, nor white nor black, nor now nor back...
He became altogether sweet and kind, he patted my head and give me a cookie a...
Chi sei tu che con occhi di fuoco tormenti le mie notti già piene di incubi. Il tuo volto mi è più familiare del mio, così come il tuo dolore che mi lacera la carne ad ogni nuovo incontro è più reale di ogni altra sensazione che posso provare alla luce del giorno. Dimmi il tuo nome così che io possa incatenati alla realtà, così che io possa sapere che c'è una ragione per tutto questo.