an Italian in Warsaw

You told me will be for ever, and I am here so I replied.

But without ourselves the love will walk blind.

The Absent One

absence / absence

Any episode of language which stages the absence of the loved object — whatever its cause and its duration — and which tends to transform this absence into an ordeal of abandonment.

she sits close the man, an old sofa host the lovers, he asks her..”please..make this love true” and she replied..”I am here with you.”

and when she left where the love is? Can a silence tell some about love?

all is lies, nothin is true, we are made of nothing and nothing will call our name when the sun will fade and dreams, illusions will play a bitter sad song.

i am dead

please Mia sun..come back to me

rains and from my sofa world looks colder than ever..silently the winter will come and the sun will fade away, i cant still believe that was here.

phone rings at 5 am..unknown number, was someone looking for me or was just one of that mistakes that makes us connect to unknown people.

Can a visible phone number makes us less unknown?

got no sweets for my breakfast and  life is more bitter than ever

quasi come se  Varsavia avesse dimenticato il correre delle stagioni, oggi mi risveglio in una citta’ autunnale..e’ Konstytucja Trzeciego Maja

Ma sono al lavoro e non potrebbe essere meglio.