You know, one day I was halfway around the world and a lady asked me if I knew Bibione. I told her: "Yes, a friend of mine goes there every year," then I came to cry, but I did because if not people asking questions and wants to know, but when I try to explain not can understand and perhaps a little pity you. Instead I am I feel sorry for those who do not understand that a triangle does not work without a summit.
They told me to let you go, they told me: "But you do not think it is appropriate to accept that Carlo's dead? ", they told me to fill a void with an illusion is worse than the vacuum itself, they told me a lot of things and I laughed, I laughed like fuck!
laughed and laugh at them and their limited vision, I laughed and I laugh at those who think they know the truth and to be able to frame, I was laughing and laughing at those who think they know, but instead did not understand a shit.
Once a giant told me that life is beautiful, but I'm little, and although I trust, do not really believe it.
One afternoon I walked alone, a lady who I have never seen approached, took me by the arm and, standing on tiptoe feet, kissed me, Then she left without speaking.
Another day I was playing with my cousin and I made a joke. She was frightened, then he laughed and hugged me.
When you're gone, my father planted a tree that makes the flowers white and fragrant. Every time I touch it and the bark does not seem cold and rough.
There are days when I still feel the warmth of the lips of the lady who I never saw.
There are days when I feel small in the arms of a child.
There are days when empty gesture made to seem to me the greatest love of love itself.
I have not filled the void that you left with me with illusions, I do not want to do and I will not.
leave it at that, apparently empty for those watching from outside, but running over to me.
And this "vacuum" is a day to keep a child's hand and drive, even though I feel small next to her, another day is the kiss of a mother who protects and envelops you, one more day gesture is the mature man who gives you something to touch when words no longer serve any good.
Maybe life is beautiful, or maybe not, but no matter how far I will not be alone.
The boats of the photo are three: if one goes to the bottom but the rope does not break, are always three, fuck!
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