Thursday, 23 December 2010

After 11:00

Around me everything is so silent and my soul is quiet. Thank you God for giving me this strength in my last moments.
I go by the window, my love: I look out and I still see, through the clouds, a few stars.
Eternity has both of us in its heart. I see the stars and think of you. Aren't you too around me? And didn't I, like a small child, take possession of each little thing you touched?
I left a message to you and your family asking to take care of my, I mean, my body. I want to be buried under those trees you know. You know which ones.
P., I am ready! I won't shake drinking from the cold, terrible cup of death. You gave it to me and I accept it. Everything! In this way I pay back the hopes I had in my life.
If I had been lucky enough to die for you! P., I'd give all myself for you! I'd die with courage, I'd die with joy, if I could give back peace and joy to your life.

I want to be buried with this clothes. You touched them, and they are sacred. My soul will float on the coffin. Nobody shall look in my pockets! That wristband you were wearing the first time I met you...

Give a kiss to your brothers and sisters, and tell them about me. I remember them all around me! I've been so close to you, haven't I? And I haven't been able to leave you since the first time I met you. That wristband, should be buried with me. You gave it to me for my birthday!
I wasn't thinking of all these things then.
I wasn't thinking that that path would have taken me to this.


Please, keep calm!

It's sharp enough, I think. It's almost midnight. And so it is, P.
My love, Goodbye. Goodbye.

For the last time I saw nature. I saw the fields and the sky.
Goodbye everyone.
Mother, forgive me.
Everything is in order, I think.
Goodbye, I'll see you again.
I made a mess for everyone.
I hope you shall all be happy.

Last day

I got a razor it cuts.
I kiss it because you gave it to me once. You Heavenly Spirit brought it to me.
I wanted to receive death from your hands, P., and I did.
Would you have said no to me?
You know you can't hate someone who loves you as much as I do.
For the last time, then, for the last time I open my eyes. They won't have to see the sun anymore. The mist hid it from me today. Be sad, Nature! Your son, your friend, your lover is getting closer to his end. P.! I feel something hard to describe, kinda similar to a dream, when I say to myself:" THis is my last day, my last!".
P., I don't understand this word, "last". Am I not here full of life? And tomorrow, I'll be lying on the floor, cold. TO die! What does it mean? You see, us, when we speak of death, we dream. I saw many die, but human beings are so limited they can't give a reason to the end of their being. Am I still mine or yours now? Yours, my love! ANd, after only just a second, separated, detached forever! No, P., no! How can I, how can you, pass away? We ARE! To pass away, to end! What does it mean? One more word, an empty sound....that doesn't find a corrispondence in my heart. Dead,P., hidden inside the cold ground, so cold, so dark!
When i was little I had a girl friend who was very important for me. She died and I remember going to her funeral. I remember standing by the hole where the coffin was, this sound that seemed to come from the coffin itself as they threw soil on it. I didn't understand.
"Death" "grave", they're words I don't understand.
Forgive me. Yesterday.....It should have been my last day. For the first time, for the first time, this thought ran through my whole body: 'he loves me!'
I knew it,that you love me, from the beginning. And yet, everytime I was with you and your girlfriend I went back to my state of fear, of frustration.
But every little sign of your love for me meant everything to me.
These memories are perhaps destined to fade away, but no eternity at all will erase the taste of your lips from my lips, the feeling of your body in my arms.
You are mine, P.
You are mine forever.

What does it mean that she is your girlfriend? Girlfriend! What does it mean in this world the fact that I love you and I wish to take you away from her to make you mine? I feel guilty for this.
But, from this moment, you are mine P. Mine!
I'll go forward and you'll come too and I'll fly to you and I'll hold you in my arms and I'll be close to you in front of the Infinite forever.
I'm not dreaming! I'm not crazy. We will exist! We will see each other!

Wednesday, 22 December 2010

Ossian (last)

Why do you awaken me, spring wind? You stroke and say: "I carry dew from the sky! But near is the time of me death: next is the storm which will throw all my leaves to the ground. Tomorrow the traveller will come here, he will come who saw me in my beauty, his eyes will look for me all around in the fields, but he won't find me.



My tears, oh Ryno, are for the killed one. my voice is for the inhabitants of the grave. Agile you move on the hill, among the children of the land. But you will fall like Morar and on your tomb will sit that whom cries for you. The mountains will forget you; your bow will be left in the room.
You were fast, oh Morar, like a deer on a hill, you were as terrible as the nocturn flames of the sky. Your frowning was like a tempest, your sword in was like a thunderbolt over the land. Your voice was like a river after the rain, like a thunder on the faraway lands. Many died because of you. THe flame of your anger killed them. But when you came back from war your forehead was so smooth! Your face was similar to the sun after the storm, similar to the moon in the silence of the night. calm was your chest like the sea when the wind ceases to blow.
Your house is now small! Dark your place. WIth three steps I can measure your tomb, you who used to be so big! Four stones are the only memory of you and a leafless tree, and some grass that murmurs in the wind. They point to the the eye of the hunter the grave of the powerful Morar. You don't have a mother crying for you, or a girl whose tears are full of love. Dead is she who gave birth to you: dead is the daughter of Morglan.
WHo is this who leans against the stick? WHo is this whose head is white from the years, whose eyes are red from the tears? It is your father, oh Morar! THe father of no other son but you. He heard about your fame in war. He heard of the enemies defeated by you. He heard of the glory of Morar! But nothing about his wound. Cry, father of Morar, cry! But your son will not hear you. Deep is the sleep of the dead, low is their pillow of dust. Never again will he hear your voice. never again will he awake at your call. When will the morning come to the tomb, to order the sleeper: "C'mon, wake up?"
Farewell, noblest amongst men and winner on the battlefield! But the field will never see you again. Never again your sword will shine in the dark forest! You didn't leave any children, but music will keep your name alive: the future will hear your name, of the fallen Morar.
Loud was the voice that cried for the heroes:louder was Armin's desperate sighing. He remembers his son's death. By the hero sat Carmor, prince of Galmal. Why is Armin crying? he said. why does one have to cry here? Aren't these songs full of joy and sweetness? They are like a soft mist that, crawling from the lake, expands in the valley and fills everything up. But then the sun comes back with all his strength, and the mist is gone. Why are you so sad, Armin, lord of Gorma surrounded by water?
Crying? Oh yes, I am, and it's not for nothing. You, Carmor, haven't lost a son, you haven't lost a daughter. Colgar is alive and alive is Annira, most beautiful among girls. The bows in your garden are flowering, oh Carmor! But Armin is the last of his family. Dark is your bed, oh Daura. Sad in the grave your sleep. When will you wake up with your songs, with your sweet voice?
C'mon, autumn winds, c'mon! Fall on the dark land! Waters, flow, howl in the forest!
Moon, creep through the broken clouds; show your pale face. Remind me of the terrible night when my children died, when Arindal and Daura died.
Oh Daura, my daugther, you were so beautiful! As beautiful as the moon on the plans of Fura, as white as fresh snow, as sweet as as the air we breathe. Arindal! Your bow was strong, your spear fast; your glare was like foam on the crest of the wave, and your shield like a cloud of fire in the storm.
Armar had come to ask the love of Daura: she hadn't resisted him long. They had good hopes.
Erath, son of Odgal, was angry because Armar had killed his brother. He came disguised as a sailor. His hip was beautiful on the waves; his hair was white from the years, his face severe.
"Oh beautiful amongst the ladies" he said "oh gentle daughter of Armin!THere by the cliff that is not far from the sea; there where the fruits shine red on the tree, Armar waits for Daura. I am here to lead his love across the sea."
SHe followed him and called for Armar; but only the voice of the rock answered. "Oh Armar, my love, why do you cause me so much pain? Listen to me, son of Arnath! Listen to me! THis is Daura!"
Erath, the traitor, ran away laughing. SHe shouted, called her father and brother:" Armin, Arindal! Will none of you save their Daura?"
Her voice ran across the sea. From the hill down came Arindal, my son, hardened by hunting. His spears resonated on his side. He held his bow and around him ran five dogs. He saw Erath on the shore, he grabbed him and tied him to a tre. So tied, he filled the wind with moans.
TO lead Daura back, Arindal went into the sea with Erath's boat. In that moment, Armar arrived angry and he killed Arindal, oh my son! Instead of the traitor Erath you lost your life! THe boat got to the shore and there you died. Your brother's blood wet your feet. And your mourning, Daura, was so long!
THe waves destroyed the boat. Armar threw himself in the sea to save Daura or to die. A wind blow beat the waves. He drowned and never reappeared again.
Alone, on the shore, I could hear my daughter's laments. Several and loud were her screams, but her father could not save her. All night I spent on the shore. I saw her in the dim moon light. All night I heard her scream. THe wind was noisy and the rain beat on the mountains. Her voice became weaker before sunrise, and she died like the morning breeze through the grass. SHe died from pain and she left Armin alone. My strength has vanished. My pride among women has gone. When snow storms come from the mountains, when the North wind lifts the waves up, I sit on this shore and look at the terrible cliff. Often. when the moon sets, I can see the spirits of my children.
Like soft lights they dance together in a quiet acceptance.



Rain and wind have passed, the afternoon is clear and the clouds have broken. The hills are brightened by the changeable sun. The river descends reddish into the valley. Your murmur is sweet, river, but even sweeter is the voice that I hear. It is Alpin's voice who cries the dead. His head is bent by time and his eye is red from the tears. Alpin, sweet singer! Why do you stand alone on the silent hill? WHy do you moan like the wind that blows in the woods, like the wave on the distant shore?

Tuesday, 21 December 2010


Night star that falls, you, beautiful, west shine; you lift from your cloud your majestic head and cover the valleys. What are you looking at? The tempestuous winds are calm now; the murmuring of the river comes from far away; down there, waves break against the cliff; insects buzz in the night fields. What are you looking at, fair light? You smile and go; the waves surround you, merry, and they wet your ethereal hair. Hail to you, placid ray! You appear, marvellous light of the soul of Ossian! And he, in all his strength, appears. I see that my friends are not together anymore. They go to the Lora like in those old past days. Fingal arrives like a sweaty column of mist and his heroes gravitate around him, and here are the bards of the song: the grey Ullin, the merry Ryno, Alpin, gentle singer, and you Minona, feeble voice! How you all have changed, my friends, from the party days of Selma, when we used to compete with songs! Like the subtle winds of spring, they bend the tender grass that, submitted, murmurs!
And that's when, in her beauty, came Minona, with her eyes low and wet. Her hair was blowing in the mutable wind. The soul of all heroes grew sad when she let her cry out, as often they had seen the tomb of Salgar; and often the dark house of the white Colma on the hill, of Colma of the harmonious voice. Salgar promised to come. But night was coming. Listen to Colma's voice, when she was alone on the hill.


It is night. Alone I am and lost on the hill in the storm. The wind blows in the mountains. The river screams down the rocks. There's no shelter to protect me from the rain, I am abandoned on the hill.
Come out, Moon, from your clouds! Stars of the night, appear! Let a ray fall to guide me here, where my love rests after hunting; with his bow beside him and his dogs around him. But i have to stay here on the rocks, in the river. The stream screams and the storm storms and I can't hear my lover's voice.
Why is my Salgar hesitating? Has he forgotten his promise? Here are the cliff, the tree and the waterfall. You promised me to be here when night would fall. Where is my Salgar? I wanted to run away with you, leave my father and my brother, those two vain men! Our families have been enemies for a long time, but we are not enemies, Salgar!
Shut up one second, wind! Stop for a moment, water! let my voice echo in the valley. let my lover, Salgar, hear me. I am the one calling. Here is the tree; here is the cliff! Salgar, my love, I am here. Why do you hesitate?
Look: the Moon has appeared. the water shines, the rocks look grey. But I can't see him on the hill, nor him nor his dogs. I have to stay here alone.
Oh, but who's there in the valley? My loved one? My brother? Speak, my dear!
But they don't answer. My soul is lost. They're dead! Their swords are red with blood from the battle. Oh brother, brother! Why have you killed my Salgar? Oh Salgar, why have you killed my brother? I loved you both! You were the most beautiful of them all. He was, in war, fearful. Answer me! Listen to my voice, my dear ones! But they are mute. Forever mute. Their chests as cold as soil!
From the rocks of the hill, from the top of the mountain, speak, spirits of the dead! Speak, I won't be scared. Where did you find peace? Where will I find you again? I can't hear any answer in the wind, or in the storm.
I sit here in my panic and crying I wait for morning to come. Dig the grave, friends of the dead, but don't close it until I arrive. Like a dream, my life vanishes. How could I survive? Here, with my dear ones, I want to live, by the water stream and the cliff.
When night will fall on the hill, my spirit will be in the wind and it will cry the death of my loved ones. The hunter will hear me in the trees. He will both fear and love my voice, because it my voice will be dear to my loved ones. I loved them both so much!
This was your song, daughter of Torman, o Minona who used to blush shyly. Our tears were poured for Colma and our soul became dark.
Ullin came forward with his harp and he sang the song of Alpin. Gentle was Alpin's voice and Ryno's soul was a ray of fire. But they were already resting in the narrow dome and their voice couldn't be heard in Selma anymore.
Once Ullin was coming back from hunting before the heroes were defeated, and he heard a singing contest on the hill. The singing was beautiful but sad. It was about the end of Morar, the first of all heroes. His soul was like the soul of Fingal, his sword was like the sword of Oskar. But he died and his father cried his death and his sister's eyes were full of tears. Minona's eyes were full of tears, the sister of the beautiful Morar.
She left before Ullin's song like the moon leaves when a storm is about to come, and she hides her beautiful head behind a cloud. I played the harp with Ullin.
You're not waiting for me. You believe that I'm obedient and that I won't be seeing you until Christmas Eve. P.: today and then never again! On Christmas Eve, you'll be reading this and you'll cry on your computer, you'll shake. I want, I must!
It's so good to feel determinate!

I have decided one thing P., NOW. I want to die. and I'm writing it without any romantic excitement, calm, on the day I will last see you. When you, my love, will read this, the cold soil will already be covering the rigid body of this restless idiot who, in the last moments of his life, cannot find any sweetness apart from talking to you. I just spent a horrible day and, yes, a beneficial day. And you convinced me even more: I want to DIE! When yesterday I left you I felt so excited, and everything went against my heart and I was suffocated by the sight of a life with you, a cold, desperate and unhappy life, then I got to my room I fell on my bed and I cried. I cried A thousand images, a thousand initiatives went through my soul and, finally, a last one rose above all the others: I want to die!
I fell asleep and now waking up the thought is still there in my mind, and strong in my heart: I want to die!
It isn't desperation. It is certainty that I have suffered all I had to suffer, and that I want to sacrifice myself for you. Yes, P. Why should I shut up? One of us three has to disappear and I want to be that one! My love.....I thought so many times to kill your girlfriend or you, or myself! ANd so, this should be.
Remember me
on a nice summer evening
when you climb on a mountain
look downhill
there will be my tomb
where the wind blows
in the light of the sunset.

I was calm when I started writing and now I'm crying like a child. Everything around me breathes.

20 December

You're right, yes.
It'd be better for me if I got the hell out of here. Perhaps go back where I came from, even though I'd also like to hesitate for a while. I would like you to come pick me up when I get there too. Just, wait fifteen more days. Fifteen days mean a lot you know. Tell my mother to pray for her son and ask her to forgive him. It's been my destiny to bring pain to those who deserved joy instead.
Farewell. Farewell.

Sunday, 19 December 2010

His presence, his destiny, his interest for mine, have squeezed the last few tears I had in my dry brain.
To go beyond....that's all there is. And why all this hesitation and this waiting? Why don't we know what things look like beyond there? And why can't we come back? Why is it implanted in us to imagine trouble and darkness there where there is something we do not know?

Friday, 17 December 2010

Tuesday, 14 December 2010

What's going on? LOL....I'm scared of myself. Isn't my love for him the holiest, purest, more innocent love of all? COz I mean I've never even touched him...and now: dreams! Last night I was holding him in my arms. I held him tight to my chest and I kissed his lips passionately for hours. My eyes vanished in the vastness of his glare!
WHy is it so painful now to keep reminding myself of those moments? P.!! It is over for me. All my senses are messed up. I haven't been able to think for like eight days. I've been crying like a baby. I can't stand any place and, at the same time, I can't be bothered about leaving. I desire nothing and ask for nothing.


Monday, 13 December 2010

Sunday, 12 December 2010

I feel like I am in the same condition as a person possessed by a demon. Sometimes I feel kinda possessed myself, and it's not fear nor is a mysterious storm which threatens to tear my chest apart and which grabs my neck tight. : ((((( And so I have to wander aimlessly in the night of this inhumane moment of my life.
Last night I went out. I got to the river around eleven - ish. Ther river was lit by the moon light, it was a scary view. I imagined it to be an ocean, during a storm. I imagined the waves exploding in front of me, the wind blowing, the blackness of the sky swallowing everything. And I was shaken by a shiver of terror and, at the same time, of desire. Yes, I was standing with my arms open in front of the abyss and I was thinking 'Down! Down!'. And I was getting lost in the longing of being swallowed by that imaginary storm and lose my pain, and to be taken away by the waves. But you didn't dare lifting your foot and stepping forward to put an end to it, did you!
My time isn't over yet. I feel it.
But I would have gladly given my body away to be able to tear those clouds apart and to grab those waves! I wonder if I'll ever be able to do that?
And so, sad as I was, I looked for this place under a tree I had once sat with P. after a walk. But it was too dark and I could barely spot it.
And I started to imagine this area completely flooded by the river, and the a larger area, and slowly the whole region was flooded. And I was the only one left there, alone, dreaming of the past, of fields, of the sun which didn't exist anymore.
And I was still there but I wasn't angry with myself, because I was brave enough to die, if I wanted to...I would be....but I keep prolonging whatever there is to prolong for unknown reasons

Wednesday, 8 December 2010

Tuesday, 7 December 2010

Monday, 6 December 2010

His figure is always following me! When I'm awake and when I'm alseep, it fills up my whole soul! Here, if I close my eyes, in my forehead, where the visual power reigns, are his black eyes. HERE!
SHit, I can't describe.....

If I close my eyes, they are in front of me, they are IN me. they fill the senses in my forehead.

WHAT is man, the glorified semi god? DOesn't he lack strength exactly when he most needs it? And, if he floats high up in joy, and then sinks in pain, isn't he anyway called back to reality, one that is cold and BORING, just when he would have desired to lose himself in the infinite?

Saturday, 4 December 2010's obvious. Everything's over for me. I can't stand this anymore!
Today I was at his place. I was sitting down. He was playing the piano, different melodies, and he was putting so much of himself in it. His little sister was sitting on my lap, playing with a doll. I was gonna cry, really. And I did, lol. He started playing this old tune we were always listening to together and, suddenly, I felt some sort of comfort and started remembering the past, the times when we used to listen to that song, the somber pauses, the boredom, the disappointment and the hopes, and then....I started walking up and down the room like a zombie coz my heart was gonna explode, full as it was with all those memories.
"Stop it, for Fingal's sake!" I said. (yeah well I didn't REALLY said "Fingal's sake",I just really wanted to write it here)

"Stop IT!"

"Oscar" he said with a smile that made my legs feel like they were made of jelly "Oscar, I think you're not feeling well...I mean, maybe you should go home and take it easy."
I had to drag myself away from him with all my will power and...gods and goddesses!
I am fucked up! Am I?

Wednesday, 1 December 2010

Ehm...the man I wrote about yesterday: the happy unhappy, he used to work for P.'s dad and you know what? Apparently he was fired because of this strange passion he had for the son of his head officer!! This was told me last night by no one else but P.'s girlfriend...I feel so confused.