The dialogue complements the panorama, unwittingly, inadvertently.
But the information is opposed, irreconcilable.
And mutate to hostile.
Was it you or the circumstances?
You never wanted more than what you needed.
And it was not your wish to carry and yet pay the price.
No need to moan the outrage any more after the mourning.
You wouldn’t recur and also you’ll never know how you would have outcome.
But you know what to reject.


Updated from here.


I am sick of you!


That’s what’s the matter with me!

I am sick of you!

I hate you!

I hate what you do!

I hate everything about you!

i want to be concessed guiltlessness

I need to keep believing,

ignore the adult wisdom,

become an exception.

I need to keep thinking that I can carve caves in a mountain of clouds,

sculpt bare-handed my own labyrinth, just tearing off pieces of mist.

I need to keep imagining entering this cotton palace.

Sometimes lock myself inside, where the light comes from everything and everywhere, and have a big breath.

Others play extreme chasing games sure that all is padded for your falls, and play hide and seek just covering yourself with fog and digging softness to find.


This is over… eventually.


You dig into it voluntarily

Perhaps you didn’t have better choices

But the choice not to is always there

Then you swim for a while

Then you start to drown

And when you are fed up with it and want to walk away, it is yourself who don’t want to just go and try to find a proper ending for it. You know exactly what you have to do to get out, but you don’t. OMG, there are so many other shit things that look so appealing compared to this. But sometimes, fortunately only sometimes, the waiting to act makes you be further away from the exit.

That’s it. A sour-sweet love, where the sweet comes from your blood and the sour from your tears.

Listen to it:

Picture: Nicoletta Ceccoli