There are those days when you no longer understand anything, what up to a second before gave you happiness, makes you nervous, that thing that gave you suffering, becomes pathetic. In a few moments, everything loses sense and you feel like in a bubble, enclosed with your apathy, while the world around you goes on. Maybe some individual expresses perplexity, almost anger towards you, wondering and wondering, the why of all this … But you can’t answer yourself, let alone them and then you stay inside, waiting for the arrival of something or someone who instead of continuing to soap you, it will be able to burst your barrier and make you feel alive, again. During these two years of imprisonment I have clung to words and promises that very often people make based on the circumstances, the moments of darkness. When this life returns to “normal” these words will have vanished, forgotten, because supported by a general illusion of being able to be better than what we really are. We are human. We need comfort and a foothold in our worst days. As soon as we get better we will behave exactly as we have always behaved. There is a pre-pandemic and a post-pandemic. The present we are experiencing is just a parenthesis that contains everything we would like to be but that our pride and our selfishness will extinguish as soon as possible.


We were lying in bed.
Like any other afternoon.
But this was no ordinary afternoon.
We were there under the covers.
Dressed but stripped of any pride.
You stroked my hair, playing with it.
I had my head hidden in your chest.
Up until half an hour ago, we had been sitting on that same bed.
You had tears in your eyes, you were holding your face in your hands, avoiding my gazes.
I used to cry with you, so vulnerable to see you sick.
You were trembling, sobbing.
"I can not lose you" you said to me in a faint voice.
"You don't love what I have become"
But at that moment I loved you even more.
We both got scared.
I am a mess, you know.
You feared for a moment that I was leaving and you freaked out.
A bit like I usually do, only more conspicuously.
I dried your tears and in the meantime I was making myself strong for both of them.
Because in the end the strength lies, if it comes to you.
Because if something scares both of you, I must always be there, to belittle it, to convince you that everything is fine.
You took me with all my problems, you picked me up and you decided to look after me, with all the patience and love of this world.
So when you go haywire, I'm there ready to play the part of the "healthy" and "reassuring" one, even if it doesn't suit me at all.
In the end we hugged tightly and pulled ourselves up;
not that we had eliminated all problems, in fact not at all.
But we were there for each other.
So once the thoughts died out, we remained embraced, with no words to say.
Only in a moment did you break the silence:
"Vanessa, I love you"
I said it all in one breath, as if it were the most important thing to say. Which, after all, it was like that.


We are all so bloody selfish, lonely, fragile and blind.

This situation will not change any of us, and we will probably hug each other when it all ends, but soon after we will go back to being the selfish ones we always have because basically that's what we have chosen to be.

Some people disappear from our lives by choice, others out of boredom or perhaps because you realize that the saying "when you cry, you cry alone" is not as bullshit as you imagined.

Sometimes we just prefer to be blind and indifferent.

Nobody says something that makes sense, that has a value, we just throw up words, thoughts, maybe we even write songs, but we are unable to ask "how are you?" to whom we really love, because the answers, the real ones, are scary.

We run away, when things get difficult, we find ourselves answering questions from anonymous to "pass the time".

I wonder who cares? Who cares who we really are? Who cares if we're suffering? Who cares if it was a day to forget?

Who do you tell that loneliness can be hell?

We consume the keyboard, we talk late into the night with people who maybe shouldn't even be part of our life.

We give the worst we can give, instead we reserve the best for who knows who, for who knows what, we don't even know what we're waiting for, whether a signal from above or something similar.

We lie on the bed in the evening and cover ourselves with our faithful sheet of insecurities, fears, resentments and hatred.

Sincerity hurts, but it is right to point out and remember that we are only selfish.

People forget because it's convenient to forget, it's convenient not to remember.
I repeat it again, this period will not change who we are, we will hug each other again, yes, all this is over, but soon after we will go back to being the usual selfish because it is what we have decided to be.

Pride kills, loneliness too.

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