It 's a February evening, one that has never been on the calendar view.
There has never been seen because I do not remember anything of my past,
although this afternoon I listened to old songs. Rather
feel in the air a strange, strange smell of
future. What is the future? Ah, there's no data to know, unfortunately or luckily
...
Tonight I open the BHO BLOG ... and I see that my zen garden
welcomes the comments of two beautiful readers.
make me laugh and think that what I write here is not a mere diary or a little silly
sign in the virtual world.
Maybe it's something more ...
Sometimes I wonder: why I have this dream of 'making the writer'?
In many when I say around, I know who stay
below, under a good laugh! But maybe they see me
so convinced and sure of what they say they pity.
Sometimes I say but you could not dream of making the lawyer,
architect, musician, dancer, swimmer ...
bho ... well ... something more concrete!
And instead, my dream is just that:
words, drawings and images
words, colori di parole, frasi,
partiture di sentimenti, pensieri in
versi, versi dell'anima, anime di carta...
A volte mi chiedo se sarebbe più realistico richiudere
tutto in un cassetto e smettere di sperare che un giorno
possa realizzarmi in questo campo.
Ogni volta che leggo i vostri bellissimi commenti,
però, penso che questa è la mia strada
e vi ringrazio davvero tanto di
ricordarmelo ogni volta.
La mia anima di carta, o forse sarebbe meglio dire
di pixel, non smetterà mai di creare storie.
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