martedì 9 aprile 2013


Everytime I watch a movie or read a good book I end up in a parallel world, made by the story and narrated by the words. 

I wish my life was that easy, made chapter by chapter, sequence by sequence; not having to deal with some downturns and problems..

Coming out of those magical worlds is sometimes frustrating, other times just sad; realizing that the story is over and often ended good.

And everytime I open my eyes on the world I live in I feel somehow I've been out so long, but nothing has changed in the real world; I'm not better, nor wiser, despite the fact that sometimes it feels like that. 
And while writing under the weak, pulsating light of my christmas leds almost exhausted on my bed, I feel lost once again, lost in what I was or what I still am, never changed, never grown, still a guy playing guitar on lonely saturday nights lighted up by simple candles.

Maybe I will never change, maybe there's nothing that can make me change; always with the feeling of losing time, of not taking the chances, not living the moment.

Everyday older, everyday the same, everyday experiencing the pain of being myself..
Never changing, never improving like in books or films; nor maybe wanting it. 
Flowing through time, watching days go by and not living: probably I'll never change this side of me.

Late nights, early mornings: I don't even sleep enough when tired. Maybe my body is tired of me.
Once I will have turned the music off I  be in Sydney once again, sleeping for a tomorrow I don't really care for.


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