mercoledì 1 gennaio 2014

Emotions.

Emotions. “Seguir con gli occhi un airone sopra il fiume, e poi ritrovarsi a volare...” These words were written by the great poet Lucio Battisti in the Seventies (OMG, I was already a teenager by then…), thus shaping my generation. But Emotions don’t go away. Yesterday, while you were partying hard, I was alone. Aiste was with me, but while she was in the kitchen eating (well, it’s a big word to define a Lidl soup a New Year’s Eve dinner, but Aiste is like this, she didn’t conceive for one moment the idea of leaving me alone) I felt alone. Not a pleasant feeling, let me tell you. I’ve always considered New Year’s Eve a fake celebration, where you’re forced to have fun and you actually have the hardest time having a good time. Well, last night it would have been my favourite night, nevertheless. Silence is hateful to me, because of the noise of the mechanical respirator and because it allows me to do something terrible and intolerable: thinking. I think about the past and I cry, knowing it won’t come back. I think about the present and… well, let’s not talk about it, if you don’t mind. About the future, in Mantova there’s a wise saying: "chi ac sarà, sifularà" (those who will be there will whistle); it could be funny, but the disease robbed me of my voice… so I’m mute like a fish. Welcome computer, communication devices and tv, then. Any channel or program is ok, since I don’t listen anyway. The clicking of the software recognizing and showing symbols on the screen allows me to communicate my thoughts, which would otherwise remain just thoughts: this is my new life. A little bit metallic and annoying, I agree, but vital to me. I rarely remember my dreams, and when I do I never, NEVER see myself being sick. Recently a friend told me she dreamt about me being very loquacious. I consider it the most extraordinary compliment. And I also ask myself why, when sadness falls into the heart, it’s silent like snow. Thanks, Lucio, for your sweet and delicate way of raising us as better persons. Have a great year full of health, happiness, love, my friends. The rest can wait, believe me. Seguir con gli occhi un airone sopra il fiume e poi ritrovarsi a volare e sdraiarsi felice sopra l'erba ad ascoltare un sottile dispiacere E di notte passare con lo sguardo la collina per scoprire dove il sole va a dormire Domandarsi perche' quando cade la tristezza in fondo al cuore come la neve non fa rumore e guidare come un pazzo a fari spenti nella notte per vedere se poi e' tanto difficile morire E stringere le mani per fermare qualcosa che e' dentro me ma nella mente tua non c'e' Capire tu non puoi tu chiamale se vuoi emozioni tu chiamale se vuoi emozioni Uscir dalla brughiera di mattina dove non si vede ad un passo per ritrovar se stesso Parlar del piu' e del meno con un pescatore per ore ed ore per non sentir che dentro qualcosa muore E ricoprir di terra una piantina verde sperando possa nascere un giorno una rosa rossa E prendere a pugni un uomo solo perche' e' stato un po' scortese sapendo che quel che brucia non son le offese e chiudere gli occhi per fermare qualcosa che e' dentro me ma nella mente tua non c'e' Capire tu non puoi tu chiamale se vuoi emozioni tu chiamale se vuoi emozioni

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