solitary voyages

 

I miss you a lot, my angel, and since you have gone away the grip of the depression has caught me.

I miss the distractions just to not focusing my thoughts on you

Since I’ve lost any contact and who knows until when I have to wait for your return.

I look for you in the things I do, in the people I meet.

 Now I don’t want to hang you up in a cross, cheating you, harassing you in this and all the possible lives

Sometimes I don’t even know what I say.

And stop then. Stop talking.

Stop producing other work materials for psychologists or psychiatrists.

Where will I go with all their pretentions and assumptions

There’s no wrong in their opinions, always so different,

Everything is relative.

Everyone has its own idea

I don’t know any more who I should follow.

I decided: no one but myself.

This situation doesn’t seem having any rescue

Just God  listens to and watches harmless

I don’t think anymore. I ‘ve lost my skills of interpretation or whatsoever.

maybe because I don’t have anymore interest in what it’s happening all around me.

Moments of joy, moment of illusions, moments of dismay that slip away over my skin..

Just moments...therefore it would have to be much more simple overcoming it

Just moment,. Not an entire life.

Moments in which I dedicated myself too much in the search of something so high that seems to be impossible to be reached

But it doesn’t really is.

I don’t look for a new love.

I’m fed up with all this stuff.

Love is all around you, if you content yourself,

Of course never enough

But the noise...I cant stand it...I’m always trapped in bordels of confusion

Just moments

But I remain what I’ve always been.

Nothing changes in my mind.

I have my thought and I don’t want to change my advise with that of other people,

 as I’m the only person who truly understand me

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

Anyone can tell you what is wiser for you  but yourself.

Living alone it’s not easy.

I’d like to lose myself in a dream but I cant: the call for reality is much more urging

if you like it or not.

Nothing special to say, nothing special to rationalize....the same stuff of ever.

I look for you but I keep it secret on my own, hiding it also to myself.

By now you’re confined in the realms of the dreams to which I have sadly to renounce anyway

I will find maybe someday something that reaches enough  this level of aspiration.

By now, I limit myself to drink on it and that’s enough

to give the right thrills I need to survive in this so-called life  that you live like having the death inside

 and there’s no novelty in that. I perhaps  will never be so acquainted to the proper idea of joyfulness.

I ‘d like to fix an equilibrium upon it but I perfectly now that everyday life is so boring and useless.

 I don’t see any sense, any excitement to live as I do in the silence of my solitary room,

Where nothing changes...never...and just overwhelmed by ghosts  who speak to you and make you lose the contact with reality obliging me to live as a machine or a doll.

there’s something much more profound to which no one cant have access.

 But it’s also true that I have fed up with myself and, in the wait, for the azure prince coming or much more for a change,

you learn how nothing really matters.

Perhaps it’s true that we have to reshape our expectations, reducing them

but a man without dreams and hopes, it’s like a man never born.

 The mind produces thoughts but what would you do with all this exaggerated amount of ideas that are completely useless?

 nowhere is the solution.

 Be present at the moment, as I don’t know if I’ll have a tomorrow and what it will be.

 I’d like finding out something to dream about, some escape,

Lying over the uphills of my imagination

 but it’s hard to find one really.

Being skeptical is not on my chords.

Maybe it’s enough taking some light- weighted moments of breath,

 let you mesmerize by the beauty and the smiles,

the enthusiasm that surround you and leave you so unprepared to such a blessing.

I’ve been perfectly acquainted with the assumption that nothing is forever,

with all the agony that it may affect.

no solutions then, no chemical or neuronal  remedy for the surprise effect

that could destabilize you as it’s not in your habits,

 but maybe a real change is ongoing and it would be wonderful if I could find here my little California.

 I’m really full of fears for this voyage, honestly,

but I try to not linger on these thinkings,

and I’m eager to launch myself in a new, unrepeatable adventure and if even if I will ought to die,

it will be for the search of some utmost joy,

as my life has been so cruel for me so far. That’s it.

I’ll try to overcome my mental and physical limits under the shining light of the American sun.  

 

 

Dove va a finire il vento - Where the wind goes

 Vorrei sapere dove va a finire il vento,

io che lo rincorro a piedi scalzi e tremo,

che ci sospinge nei labirinti dei nostri cuori

e 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,

e la magia, l'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,

I that give chase to it with bare feet and tremble,

Wind that impel us in the labyrinths of our hearts

And makes us lose the route of the reason.

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

Probably it will end where the thought go dying.

Surfing in the space I met you

Internauts of the heart.

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

An history that repeats itself,

Overwhelmed by the bitterness,

forgetful of the joy,

and the magic, the effervescence...

lost in the detachment and in the disillusion of a come back

to an ordinary life noisingly destabilizing

and in the abstinence of that muffled and placentate warmth,

from that sense of totality

that made up be sufficient each one for the other,

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

for longtime desired and sighed.

I’d like to know what will be of us,

Once that the bubble of love

Is exploded at the jogging of thousands of thorns

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

And supported it bloating in the ether

Pusher 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 recondite affinities.

Elective affinities.