So far I accomplished nothing

7 05 2010

It’s when you’re in the wrong pizza restaurant, sitting in front of your mother who just told you you’re growing old, nearby your grandmother that is going totally mental and wants to come to live with you, nearby your brother who’s nut as ever and just after meeting your primary school teacher who still remembers you and ask you if you followed your dream, after you spent the afternoon reading a book you forgot about and that reminds you of your lost passions, is after a day like this that you realize how utterly and impossibly useless your life is and how deeply and strongly you would like to press an imaginary “expel” botton right now.
If everything around you just constantly reminds you of your most intimate and strong failures, of all the love you didn’t give or had, of all the dreams you left behind because you were too busy being sucked by a black hole of desperation, if to all of this you just wake up and you see how a week of flu reduce you, with everyone telling how skinny and horrible you are – maybe not mentioning the horrible part BUT surely with a certain kind of looking upon you that leaves nothing to your doubts, with the doctors telling you this and that and nothing looks really encouraging, if all of this happens and you’re still breathing… well you definetly ask yourself why you had in heritage such a sensitive temperament when, surely, all you need it’s just a door to shut between you and the world.

It would be wonderful and at the same time perfect: a life of absolute nothing with just books and books and books, to live adventure and to read and to build knowledge on knowledge on the only friends you have left… books.
Slowly but at least not “painfully” withering like a flower, because maybe when you were young you were good looking and you were also smart but then time comes and what you have left of the two is a small fraction, each year smaller while memories somehow are growing stronger and brighter, slowly fading away from life because there is nothing in it that at the moment could have even the smallest chance of being interesting… forgetting maybe joy but also forgetting pain…
Well when you went through all this and you also realized that at the end is nothing and you’re making a fuss of it for silly reasons but you still have feelings you’re not able to tame or silence, when you happen to be in this state… trust me, not even music can help you.

Hoping won’t help you anymore. Try something better.
Try to run.

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it’s simple, you’re mine and you need me.

29 04 2010

Here I am, on my knees with my orange underwear on. something I am somehow learning to love. Here I am again speaking about what’s happening even if I don’t have any clue about it and more than everything I don’t know where it will lead me.

So, they say, the life of a slave is a life of pain, isn’t it? We already saw how magic and deep the pain can be, we already settled that the ordeal path is not that far from.
What I missed to understand it there are kinds of pain I could never imagine. And one of them is making me sitting here right now writing this short post… the focal point is need. I know I need my Master, I feel it now, deeply. So deeply that it’s a pain, a real pain. When the feeling goes right to the mind a bell sounds and consciousness regain his kingdom and the pain is doubled: the intense pain of that need and the even intense pain of the somehow weirdness of that feeling that comes straight from the conscious mind.
it’s a clash of titans, the need, the willingness to serve and to please, the pleasure of being dominated against the set of rules that we all have stuck inside our head.
it’s indeed a magnificent battle to see. a little less to feel under your own skin. the Ego is powerful and gigantic, while the dark hopes that fight against it are small in comparison but many.

I feel hung. Like the proverbial hunged man I am blind and throw on the verge of something I cannot see or comprend or to a certain extent enjoy. There is something inside me that screams for help and you can hear his voice only when I am not there, only when I am somewhere else. And that something feels and screams in ways I am not used to and I don’t know it’s name.
But it’s there and the pains of that needs it feels all  together quite quite bittersweet, still are pains nonetheless.

I can’t believe, simple as it is. Can’t believe. And again is hard to admit to myself, almost near to impossible to understand. Yes I shall go on for the path is just begun. I can’t say if it’s right or wrong, I’ll find out at the end I guess.

Rescue me, the storm is coming.





12 08 2009

pain is beauty. pain leads where no one wants to go, where anyone is scared to go.
pain is an absence, the absence of horizons, the vast sea of the body unravelled and ready to jump.
as far as I know I’m still nothing and no one in this sea.
but I can see its potential.

this post might be short, but it’s nothing but deeply felt by who’s writing.
for I want to go somewhere and that somewhere is still distant.
for pain will be my companion. I won’t be alone.