To leave is a bit like to die

To leave sounds like to die.

To be gone means to live through the eye of a memory.

When you leave a place that has been like your home for a while, all you left behind is all the people there will remind about you. Memories are the elements by which a man is built of, what you leave about yourself to the others is what make you what you are, more than every possible truth everywhere...
Fragments of memories that slowly build a personality, that slowly build an history, knowing all of this pieces of reality is like knowing ourselves better, like we'd never been able to do in any other way.

But if no one is there, where a soul is supposed to burn?
No one there
No one there
No one has never been...

When the end calls...

Maybe is thinking through different prospectives that makes real whatever you're living and passing by...

The days are gone, sometimes even too fast, too similar one to another to keep a perfect memory of each one...but they are passed and gone...the memories sometimes make you laugh, sometimes they make you cry but isn't this what we all go through to find the other half of this true? And what if there's no true? Haven't you think about that? Never?
Sometimes is hard to say goodbye, sometimes you got that feeling to say "just wait one more minute, just one more" and the words just choke in your deep self...I'm still here by your side, everything is gonna be fine now but nothing is gonna last forever...I never said that and I just knew that you were not gonna stay...

You were crying while whispering those words, is that what we leave when we're gone? When we share a memory we become part of another memory yet to start, when we share a laugh is just like join our souls forever, melting them together, chasing themselves 'til the end of the times...
It's always the same float of emotions, hiding in empty walls while all the unsaid comes to the light and make us wish to be gone...

And even after everything I still wandering where you will be now, if you're still watching at the same moon of once and if you still bear the same sorrows and the same nightmares that had taken you away...if only you were still here...

...and I wish...again...and again...

Keep up the team

La notte del diavolo è la mia festa preferita. Ogni anno mi riprometto che deve essere particolare, ma, escludendo il biennio 2002-03, le ultime non sono state poi cosi speciali: 3 anni passata in cabina a lavorare, quella dell'anno scorso che non la ricordo e quella di quest'anno che, causa la deadline imminente, l'ho passata interamente alla Film Academy a tentare di creare un menu decente e funzionante per il mio dvd.
Mentre vedevo il sole spuntare dalle vetrate della editing suite, ho pensato a questo ultimo mese trascorso tra scuola (figo) e cabine di proiezione (un po' meno)...e ho capito il vero significato di quelle semplici 4 parole che stanno scritte davanti all'entrata della cabina del mio posto di lavoro...
Spronare gli altri a fare del loro meglio, convincerli che non esiste lavoro difficile o che non debba essere fatto, aiutarli a vincere la loro pigrizia per salvaguardare la tua...motivare la gente significa risparmiarti un sacco di lavoro, e per farlo basta sparare minchiate!! Come ad esempio dire al tuo collega che il general manager ti ha detto che è un ottimo dipendente e che stava pensando ad una promozione per lui. Oppure dire al tuo manager che il competente tecnico ha elogiato il suo ottimo lavoro di manutenzione delle macchine, mentre il suddetto tecnico, proprio poche ore prima, aveva maledetto il suo nome...
Risultati straordinari, gente che si propone di ramazzare i piccioni morti sul tetto, lavori completati in tempi record, morale alto, ambiente tranquillo, scazzi ridotti al minimo, applicazione quasi nulla...

Ma forse non è solo questo il segreto, forse c'è un altro lato di questa verità che avvolge il mondo capitalista destinato ad un rapido e inesorabile colasso...un mondo cosiddetto civilizzato, costruito sullo sfruttamento reciproco della forza lavoro, costruito su fondamenta designate da chissà quale forza universale, costruito sull'omologazione, sull'alienazione, sulla speranza che il domani riserverà ancora sorprese...

Ma chi ha scritto le regole?? Un grande diceva che i mezzi sono giusti in relazione ad un fine, ma quale fine è il fine?? Ma soprattutto: se questa magica parola fosse "individualità"???

Il sole poi alla fine è tramontato, il Diavolo ha lasciato il comando alle streghe, il mio progetto è finito e consegnato, non ne sono del tutto soddisfatto ma alla fine non mi posso nemmeno lamentare, un coglione un po' su d'età gira per le strade vestito da Joker e mi ricorda che in fondo poteva andare peggio...molto peggio...

Il mio ultimo mese da proiezionista per ora, cercherò di "godermelo", ma di questo ne riparleremo a tempo debito, meanwhile, Bad Halloween!

September Sun

Summer almost gone, the poetry inside the last bright days, everyone shorter than the one before, colors changing, the girls of Liverpool St. all dressed of the same suit, the romantic September spreads its beauty all over here...

The morning is running fast upon the 242, direction Shoreditch, I can finally breathe again...

Summer Nights

People come and go, we're still here
carrying all the weight on our shoulders.
The summer is almost gone,
fading away like the dream we've never had,
leaving all the sadness behind
and some scars that will never go away.
A ghost has spoken to me
in the place where the ancient times crossed our lifes,
like a shadow between the people
split between sorrows and vanishing hopes.
He said One day the love will torn away
and you will find yourself already dead inside,
unable to forgive,
but in a way, you will be still breathing
and only then your soul will understand the emptiness
and will learn to live with that...

I think grey would be my colour
if I still had a heart...

Lights in the Sky

She's mostly gone
Some other place
I'm getting by
In other ways
Everything they whispered in our ear
Is coming true
Try to justify the things
They used to do
Believe in you

Watching you drown
I'll follow you down
I am here right beside you
The lights in the sky
Have finally arrived
I am staying right beside you

I tried to stay away
Just in case
I've come to realize
We all have our place
Time time has a way you know
To make it clear
I have my role in this
I can't disappear
Or leave you here

Watching you drown
I'll follow you down
I am here right beside you
The lights in the sky
Are waving goodbye
I am staying right beside you


Music & Lyrics by Trent Reznor
(The Slip, 2008)

Growing old

Childhoods over the day you know when your gonna die...

Dato che non mi sono rimaste molte parole ultimamente, lascerò a qualcun'altro il compito di riempire questa pagina...

        "From childhood's hour I have not been
       As others were; I have not seen
       As others saw; I could not bring
       My passions from a common spring.
       From the same source I have not taken
       My sorrow; I could not awaken
       My heart to joy at the same tone;
       And all I loved, I loved alone.
       Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
       Of a most stormy life- was drawn
       From every depth of good and ill
       The mystery which binds me still:
       From the torrent, or the fountain,
       From the red cliff of the mountain,
       From the sun that round me rolled
       In its autumn tint of gold,
       From the lightning in the sky
       As it passed me flying by,
       From the thunder and the storm,
       And the cloud that took the form
       (When the rest of Heaven was blue)
       Of a demon in my view."

 Alone by E.A. Poe