When you fall, the world around you stop for a moment.
The view is dark, there's no sound in the ears, do not try anything, even pain.
For a few seconds to bask on the ground remains in limbo, to enjoy the freedom of weightlessness of who has finally gotten rid of himself.
Then a slap, the first voices forcefully take possession of the void, they uproot the essence, the color, fill.
you just sit, and his heart starts to beat, here comes the pain.
wounds to assess the damage and see the broken skin and exposed flesh, but no blood. No, no blood at first, because he is so: he likes to procrastinate, be made to wait, and only when it is certain that you are watching anxiously, then comes out in streams.
Bloody and sore I threw down, close your eyes and look the way mentally to what great place where you were ethereal and invincible and your brain still did not understand what had happened.
Blood, tears and sweat.
Would you like to be over, the sky splits in two, which were removed from the calendars every Wednesday, but Thursday and Friday so that you no longer needed. You roll on the floor and make a fuss because the pain is greater dignity.
But then, without your having given strict orders to your body, trembling and sobbing fade and eventually disappear, the tears dry, and dries up the blood around the cuts and scratches.
Why does it happen?
Pain and suffering are the same moment in which there are now real, but someone asks you to regain composure, a bloody and senseless behavior.
Who and authority which deprives you of the right to be miserable?
Disappointed and lame resume your road covered with scabs and bruises, the people you meet see you, but look at your wounds. Some turn up their noses, irritated by the fact that your bruises from ruining the landscape, someone else gets a bit 'pants, shows you a small peeling on the knee and says he'll understand why he went there, someone else still continues to set up and, impelled by a morbid curiosity, does not retain applications and reach out your hand to touch your wounds.
How much pain and how much contempt.
One day you realize that scabs and bruises are gone, leaving scars more or less deep. The cover as best you can to avoid eye and asking questions and start walking again because the pain is gone because the pain is still deep and tangible as the moment when the blood started to gush.
I told you that you thought would pass and the pain, but how can the memory of the moment when you touched the ground after an endless flight is so alive and screaming?
They say there is nothing more beautiful and true when you find the strength to get up shaking the dust off.
They say a lot of things, but most are crap.
