Sunday, 11 October 2009


Not that I have left DarkPills behind or have nothing to write about here.

It's just that there are so much things going on that I don't know just where to start from.


While hunting dogs or lower animals, you don't normally expect to find a tiger or a lion – sometimes you do find a peacock, but that's not the point.

You are truly bemused, but you're normally unable to deal with it and may find yourself on a true trouble.

I didn't meet a lion, but something placed right before it – quite like me.

Ambition, a clever mind, an unmistakably taste of innocence and puerility.

My routine was taken over.

Distance is not a major issue anymore.

I can hear you roar. I can see you exercising your predator instincts.

My mind was blown. My life was full of smiles and gentle words.

So innocently taken aback.

When actually shot down, everything went as fine and pleasant as they say it does.

Normal bumping, obviously.

My innocence now is just spiritual.

And I have quite a nice stone to cling to.

Thanks for the good moments.



It's a quite cold Sunday on my dear rather-small city.


Recently, I found myself rushing my way back home asking, driving incautiously while asking to every alter-ego of mine what's wrong with me.

Maybe the stress. Maybe the overload.


Well, going back to the start, an opportunity to make some clandestine grooving in the first eventual corner had finally popped up again.

This time, however, no hardcore furtiveness was wished, so it was the perfect moment to head into the unknown and get to pay to have my secrets kept.

An unpleasant week was to be rewarded. Some studying, some decision-making and I went after my craving, quite late, but did go.

Switched places – "i guess you'll manage it better than me" –, not a very welcoming environment, and then, there I was.


The place wasn't exactly different from what I am used to, but very dissonant to my personal belief.

Candle light was preferred and the excitement was taking place.

The empty witchcraft circle was finally filled with our 8-points star: magic promised to have an unseen intensity that night.


How fool of me.


The biggest momentum was about to arrive. My turn was coming, quite a few years late.

For my utter deception, the wait went to get longer.

I didn't have the guts. I wasn't fully prepared. Nothing happened.


Blame it on the flowers, blame it on the moonlight, blame it on the kids.


It's quite hard to describe it, dear reader.

Some things are just impossible to translate into words.


It all seemed like a nightmare you know you can escape from by just closing your eyes – this one, however, was real and impossible to run away.

My natural defence was to behave like on an actual nightmare, sneaking the most comfortable micro-area, blocking my vision and hoping to wake up on my bed.

It didn't work.


Forgiveness was all I received and, despite it all, quite a good night.


A little real grooving, a little socialization. I was feeling beautiful after all and the night was taken aback quite smoothly.


After that, I've been thinking.

Have spent my life wondering about these matters, thinking how it would feel being on that moment – how the skies would fade to black and how the feeling of sinking or soaring would be.


All poetry. All theory. And it may never materialise.


Maybe I'm disabled. A negative, in a very Café Flesh way.

Maybe I'll never get to fly.


So I decided to retire a little.

Focus on real important matters and wait the healing power of time.


I know I'll eventually find my place.


The dog's back home. Harmless, kind and docile.


And that's just one of the aspects that have been running through my head lately.

Hope I find myself willing to take some time and write it down.