little lights

got home and as usual looked up.
the light was on in his bedroom.
i stalled and waited,
waited to see as if
as usual
he'd poke his head through the curtains to check if i got home alright.
i'll miss him.

suddenly

it has happened suddenly.
no warning.
no way to be prepared.
yet, you can't stop what you're doing.
nor you can stop thinking about it.
it's a struggle to carry on,
but you're not suppose to be seen waivering.
i cried by myself,
away from other people's sight.
as i know others have done.
as it is normal to do.
yet, you can't be seen doing it.
i am lost tonight.
clinging to some work i didn't want to do.
strapped to these words that i didn't want to write.
waiting till tomorrow comes so i can think it's another day and it's all gonna be ok.
i'm sad and hurt.
i'm worried and unbalanced.
i'm disoriented and scared.
i'm angry and worthless.
i will hide now from all this, before it all appears too clear in front of my eyes and i can't avoid it anymore.
like i can't avoid the tears lining my face now.
all my love tonight goes out to s.r. wherever he is.

va tutto bene.

il prossimo che mi dice che sono troppo bravo rischia la vita.
soprattutto se di seguito aggiunge, non fare cose che non ti sono chieste.

new obsessions

1 or 2 slices of fresh ginger
2 parts of dark rum
half tablespoon of ginger syrup
3/4 parts of chilled ginger beer
2 lime wedges

fill and old fashioned glass with ice and add the fresh ginger
add the rum and ginger syrup
top with ginger beer
squeeze the lime wedges over the drink and drop them in

drink with poise and show an accomplished face

structural underachiever

p: i think i should go.
v: i guess that's not gonna change anything... and i'm sure you know.
p: whatever, at least i'll have something else to worry about. do you think it's important to face what's around you?
v: what's wrong with that ?
p: damn waste of time... after all the effort you're back to your first answer to the problem: no answer just leave it behind. so may as well not waste the time... i feel older and worn out these days; i have wasted enough time chasing impossible things. i should focus on things that can actually happen rather than the usual idealistic crap you always talk about.
v: you are a fool. there is no life without "idealistic crap" that's all we have left. you need to want to change the world or you'll just be like everyone else, f****** useless and sooner than you think you'll end up wanting to go get an autograph off paris hilton.
p: you bore the hell out of me. and what's wrong with paris hilton she's helped posterity with her silly blowjob video... that must count like an achievement! and btw and in case you haven't noticed i am useless already.
v: well that may be true but it makes no difference. everyone is useless till you get to the point when you become useful.
p: that is a very well put thought! you are definitely useless too!
v: thanks idiot! what i meant is that you have to stick to your ideas to at least have the hope to make them useful someday. it takes patience, persistence and sweat but it must be worth it!
p: and what if it is not?
v: not what?
p: worth it!!!
v: ah! than we're screwed, but just hope you don't find out till it's time.
p: time for what?
v: time to move on to the next place.
p: !!!!???????????
v: when you're dead, you idiot.
p: ah! f****** great! i'm gone.

lamposts try to rule my life

The night was a blur of stricken lights and murky mist.
There was an aftertaste of sadness to it all.
I don’t know what time it was or how long had I been up, but the smell of the air was starting to offend me.
I thought the light I saw was a flash of wisdom, it was only a light bulb exploding. I won't be learning anything tonight.
The rum eased away all the nervous thoughts built up over the days and weeks that preceded the eventful evening.
Rum always helps to focus on the matter at hand, unforgiving.
An adventurous bat circled over our heads, i suppose attracted by the heat and flickers of orange from our cigarettes. I’m surprised to see something natural in this harsh part of town… then again things exist beyond anyone’s control, they tell me.
I don’t want to say what I was thinking but the gentle rocking of this train that’s taking me away from it all, makes me wonder if I should.
What’s so scary about speaking one’s mind? Do I get frightened by my own thoughts? Do I worry about what’s hidden between them? Is it possible that people would understand things that I have no idea I was thinking about? Is it worth the risk? Why is it that we always stop at the word risk? What stops me from just being simply clear and uncompromisingly honest?
The truth is often too boring and banal to be spoken. I choose my stories, I garnish them, I twist them, I never totally remove them from the truth but they are never true, either.
I ask too many questions to ever manage to find answers.
Our cigarettes burn quicker in the crispy wind. More rum is awaiting on the table inside, I think she drinks for the same reasons I do. It is to alleviate the pain, the disorientation. It helps facing the mistakes. Sometimes it helps trying to do things we know we want to do but there is no way we're going to. The rum is often not enough.
Laughter and jokes, smiling faces and sideways looks. Who does know? What do they know? Maybe it is plain for everyone to see! What haven’t we told them? What do I think I know it is most certainly not what I should know, or the truth for that matter. But the truth does not matter. Not to this world anyways. Or to me anymore.
All I try to do is to navigate through the confusion that situations create.
I must not be a good sailor.

it was meant to be a brunch

my garden is a place of resonance and disguise

the kitchen is trying to speak to me.
i'm not listening.
a cat has decided that the best place to stay tonight is on my window ledge.
i quite like that.
the clicking of the keys under my fingertips is comforting and rhythmic.
not enough to break the melodic silence that fills my ears tonight.
asking questions not worth asking and finding answers not worth knowing.
walk the night to london bridge to check if the river still flows in the same direction.
a picture of an empty parking lot will remind me that i have been somewhere.
the night is chilly.
something is about to change.
the mellow autumn breeze draws a melancholic atmosphere.
i will leave to not be in the way of events that are beyond my control.
people will see stars shining through layers of smudged make up and sore eyes.
there are things that need taking care and things that need destroying.
i most definitely don't recognize the difference.
will it be days or weeks before the chill will reach my cherry trees?
there is no need to understand.
my motorbike is ready.
i am not.
the corridor has just become very very long.
all the lights are off now.