Solitary journeys

                                   

 

I miss you a lot, my freak, fragile angel,

and, since you have gone away, the grip of depression has undeniably, deeply caught me.

I miss our diversions, just not to be worried about the usual daily concerns...

I look for you in the things I run, in the people I meet every day that goes by.

 Now I don’t want either hanging you up in a cross, 

or cheating on you, or even harassing you, if you have taken this decision!

Sometimes I don’t even know what I'm saying...

Let me stop then. Stop talking, even writing...

Stop producing other work materials for psychologists!

Where will I go with all their so different assumptions?

Everything is relative! nobody can read out on my mind!

Everyone has their own idea...of what? what do they really know about me?

I don’t know who I should follow anymore...

I've decided: no one but myself!

I keep on stripping under coats, sometimes with those who don't deserve it,

erasing the springs of an innate machism under an iron armature.

This situation it's not likely to have any rescue

Just God  can hear but he or she watches carelessly!

 I  give up in giving interpretations, in trying to read out in others' minds,

or whatsoever....

I don’t have any interest in what’s happening around me! sometimes neither inside me...

Just moments of untamed joy, only to survive, of hurting illusions, of grieving dismay 

that indifferently slip away over my skin...over my head..not at all in my heart!

I don’t look for a new love....

I’m fed up with all these affairs!

Love is all around me if I wanna grab it (from who?)

if you content yourself...or maybe just hypocrisy... 

at least those who dare to give a smile don't commit any crime!

The noise...I can't stand it...I’m always trapped in a confusing mayhem

But I remain what I’ve always been.

Nothing changes in my mind.

I keep on trusting on my beliefs 

I don’t want to make compromises for any reason or anyone's sake!

Unfortunately, I truly get along just with myself...

No doctors, no scientists, no priests, no teachers, no friends!

The urgent call for reality let me deviate from the realms in which I'm confined!

I, perhaps, will never be so familiar to a proper perception of joyfulness!

 I don’t feel any excitement to live in a solitary room,

Where nothing changes...never...

and I'm just subjugated by ghosts that often make you lose contact with facts,

obliging me to live as a machine or a stupid doll!

I'm not the puppet of anyone!

Above all if you consider that I'm getting bored of myself 

and, in the wait for a new unlikely coming prince charming or a novelty,

 I’d like to find something to dream about, an escape,

Hovering over the uphills of my imagination!

Being skeptical is not on my chords...

 I keep on being marveled by beauty or quirky emotions,

Sometimes enthusiasm surrounds you and leaves you so unprepared to such a blessing!

I’m perfectly aware that nothing lasts forever,

no surprise effect that could turn me inside out,

It would be wonderful, but somewhat unrealistic, to find here my little California!

 I’m honestly full of fears for next solitary journey, in and beyond myself,

but I try to not linger on these thoughts!

I’m so eager to engage myself in a new uplifting adventure

and if even if I will have to die,

it will be in search of something new and inspiring!

My life has been so cruel to me so far....That's all!.

I could give to me any painful consequence to overcome all of my limits and to undertake this experience,

under the shining light of a dream coming true American sun!  

 

 

Dove va a finire il vento / Where the wind goes

 Vorrei sapere dove va a finire il vento,

io che lo rincorro nuda e tremo,

vento che ci sospinge nei nostri labirinti così tempestosi...

vento che a volte ci fa perdere la rotta della ragione.

Nell'abbraccio di un amico o nei fantasmi del passato?

Forse finisce laddove va a morire il pensiero.

Navigando nello spazio ho conosciuto te,

internauti del cuore...

Vorrei sapere dove va a finire la scintilla di un amore perduto,

una storia che si ripete,

sovrastata dall'amarezza,

dimentica della gioia,

 della magia, dell'effervescenza...

persi nel distacco e nella disillusione del ritorno

ad un ordinario rumorosamente destabilizzante

e nell'astinenza da quel calore ovattato e placentico,

da quel senso di totalità

che ci faceva bastare l'uno all'altro,

per cibarci solo di quei pochi ma intensi febbricitanti baci e candide carezze

a lungo agognati e sospirati.

Vorrei sapere che ne sarà di noi,

una volta che quella bolla d'amore

è esplosa al frastagliarsi di mille spine

e non c'è più quell'ìncantesimo che la rendeva integra

e la sorreggeva galleggiante nell'etere

sospinta da un flusso di misticità

che la rendeva infrangibile e splendente.

Vorrei sapere che ne sarà della bellezza

e dei ciclici germogli delle primavere dei cuori,

nel gelo di una neve che ci ha agghiacciato gli sguardi e gli istinti.

Passerà l'inverno ma sapremo attendere con fede

e preservare inalterati dei vaneggiamenti romantici?

Resta solo un senso di gentilezza sottile

nella sensibilità delle nostre fragili essenze

e il ricordo di una carezza sul viso 

che celava un'inespressa verità di passione e reciproche affinità recondite. 

Affinità elettive.

Where the wind goes 

I’d like to know where the wind goes,

me chasing him naked and trembling,

Wind that propels us in our labyrinths, so stormy,

And makes us lose the route of reason.

In the embrace of a friend or in the ghosts of the past?

Probably it will end where the thought goes dying.

Surfing in the space I met you

Internauts of the heart.

I’d like to know where does go ending up the spark of a lost love,

a history that repeats itself,

Overwhelmed by the embitterment,

forgetful of the joy,

and the magic, the effervescence...

lost in the detachment and in the disillusionment of a comeback

to an ordinary life, noisily destabilizing

and in the abstinence of that muffled and placentate warmth,

from that sense of totality

that made us be sufficient for each other,

to feed ourselves just of those few but intense feverish kisses and pure caresses

for such a long time desired and sighed.

I’d like to know what will be of us,

Once that the bubble of love is blown up

 by the indenting of a thousand thorns

And there’s no more any spell that made it intact

And bore it bloating in the ether

Pushed by a flux of mysticism

That made it unbreakable and shining.

I’d like to know what will be of the beauty

And of the cyclic sprouts of the springs of the hearts,

In the frost of a snow that has frozen our glances and instincts.

Winter will pass by but we will hold on faithfully

And preserved unchanged our romantic ravings?

It’s left only a sense of subtle gentleness

In the sensitivity of our fragile essences

And the remembering of a caress along the face 

That hid an unexpressed truth of passion and reciprocal concealed affinities.

Elective affinities.