I passed my entire life, to muse on the past.

I have no regrets about that, cause doing this I’m sure I prepared myself to anything, even to myself.

Anyway, now I’m pissed off of that deep thoughts, now I just want to release the small myself that’s pent-up inside me.

Sometimes, the past stalks me. He wants something for me, something I am no more. And I don’t want to.

People always complains about life and it’s labyrinths, I did it too.
But the point, is simple.

I am not my past, neither my future.
I cannot judge myself, cause while I do it I’m no more myself. I’m something more, and something less.
Every day I go to sleep and wake up again the day after, I’m a different being.

And how can I judge myself if I can’t see myself firm ?

It’s, like when you’re sit on a train and the train you’re watching moves. Who’s moving?
How can you tell? What’s the foundation of your guesses? About your feelings?

Feelings screws, and hurts. Feelings are human.

The Laws of the Universe are not human. They just don’t care of what we feel, cause we’re just a consequence of the Universe. A consequence, something that growed up over it.

So, if we will never understand what we are taking our stand on… just cause it’s greater than us, how can we judge ourselves? We’re just a consequence of what we’re thinking of…

How can a man pull himself out of a swamp? Keeping hold of his hair?

Does a red fish in a glass bowl knows what is loneliness?

How much arrogance we need to belive we’re hang? Neither a planet, or a stair can stand in the infinity of space.

I feel ready to challenge anyone and anywere.
Be scared of it, cause I wont face noone, except for myself.

Be dreaded, cause one day, i’ll came to fetch you…
…and between me and my memories, I will be no more the prey, but the hunter.

I don’t like to be a human being.
Breathe, Eat, Defecate, Sleep.
Shaking my body on this miserable planet like a choking ant.
Sometimes I would like to be everything, and everywere.
I would like to be there with you, now.

I wish I could fly in the brightest skies of my dreams, or swim down onto the darkest oceans of my nightmares.
Inside me, I feel something that is neither human or divine, is just me.

I can’t explain what it is, cause I don’t know, and I don’t want to. Not yet.
It’s sealed over my soul and my destiny, and it’s something that will reveal when I’ll die.
The only think i know about it, is that it’s a really big frog to swallow… and that a men’s life is just a training to it.
Everyone dies alone, and I’ll too. I’m not scared to die, neither to live.

But the question is… Between life and death, is there just a bunch of time? Or there is left some space for me?

I’m happy that in English, “Saggezza Popolare” (literaly Popular Wisdom in Italian) use a combination of two different words.

Popular, in this sad world, have a so sad meaning… Popular Wisdom would have been something like a “paradox”… that’s one of the reasons cause I love English, not American but British one. British people is so strict with meanings of their words… like I am with concepts.

Today… I was taking a coffee and in the meantime I was listening to an old man speaking about when he was young and things like that…
He was doing this with a semplicity… I would have to have too…

World have massively changed in the last generation, my grandma can’t even imagine what I do every day with computers, and in some year it will be the same for me about she, her life and what she lived.
Actually, people don’t speak with each other… there are hundred of useless “meeting places”… but persons just continue to speak with who they already know, without socializing with each other.
One of the biggest problem is individualism… everyone tryes, (probably for the frustration of that difficulties to communicate with their neighbors), to buy everyday more instruments to live alone, and better.
Everyone have a car, and go to the same place (even if he could go there with other friends and the same car), everyone have it’s fake interests, and grows them up alone.
Everyone works against each other, instead of work with some other persons to make better things.
Are we reacher? or more poorer?

That’s the “social” things we miss… oh.. I don’t want to change the world. I’d like to… but I’m sure I can’t.

I’m not talking about what people should do, just cause I think it’s the right think and I’d like them to do it…
I’m just and observer, and I’m proud to have the consciousness of the world I have.

I limit myself to watch around while the time passes, and endjoining the fact that this sick world will never make me sick too.
I’m hedged in (well-protected) against this.

Spiritual deprivation, opulence, appearance, can’t spite me. And the more I feel different, the more I feel on the right way in this dark and dirt road.

Is’s not just a question of spirituality, respect, religion, or love/fear for god.
It’s just a question of me and what I am.

This is the life I want to live.

In this website I try to concentrate and pull out feelings that in those years hollowed me.
By the way, it’s a bunch of binary bytes, an endless queue of ONES and ZEROS created by me, readed by your browser, and passed through kilometers of kilometers of cables buried who knows were in the world.

This is what I call a comunication:

• two persons
• a way-to

So… let’s see… is easy to understand who are the two persons.
The problem, in comunication, is the way-to do it.

I’m sure that no one will understand the concepts I will try to explain there, but comunication is like science, it arrives to perfection through approssimation.
So, if I will be misunderstood the first time, I will be better comprhended the second, and so on. Everytime what you’ll understand will be more comparable to what I was trying to say.
This is a website also, so it’s done of code, structural informations used by me to impress you, with multimedia, images, ideas, and my endless tryes to put them toghether in a nice-looking way.
For a better, safer, and consciousness view, I just want to ask you to visit this website with Firefox.
First of all cause I love and support free software, and second, cause it follow standars, that are “the language” that I followed in order to write that website.

• Here is the way-to communicate, standards.

Unfortunately, the odd thing of standars is that everyone have it’s own.

Nonostante mi piaccia fare siti internet, e ne abbia fatti svariati, non sono mai riuscito a finire il mio.

In parte il problema è di tempo, in parte, no.

Questo blog vuole essere un esperimento, cercherò in futuro di integrare questo blog al mio vecchio lavoro e di farne una cosa sola.
Per ora la mia preoccupazione è eliminare ogni possibile scusa riducendo al minimo i tempi necessari a bloggare.
Se anche questo tentativo fallirò … evidentemente non sono fatto per raccontarmi in questa forma o devo ancora lavorare sul blocco che mi impedisce di scrivere.

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That was my first, and I hope last, post in Italian.
I decided to keep my blog in English, I explained the reason here.