My dear black screen.
This is the reason why I created you.

My walk along the streets of my nightmares has been traced up to now, perhaps in order to come to a final resolution, a final answer that needed to be lived for all these years.

Fate? No, I hate fate, fatalism, predestination, surrendering to the only thing that has generated the whole world we live in today: lies to the world and to ourselves derived by the laziness of not getting out of our own self to overcome mediocrity of our lonesouls reduced to its lone-self-existence just to increase the power of one into a self-exhaltation that's meant to generate values from nothing. NOTHING. That's what I've become, nothing more than a dead-man walking, refusing each chance of expression my life brought to me, substituting them with hollow ones illusively created by my hollow being. Deprived of a sense along my run inside the vortex of my own ego to dig what couldn't be dug, leading first to aggresivity, then to desperation and finally to the only real thing that let my non-existence evolve: boredom.

That motherfucker I felt pulsing inside my head when I was stuck in the middle of an action, my hiccuping movement along the line of that elipse of non-sense, the total dissatisfaction from every single happening, that empty "I guess there's something missing" which has been the only tragicomic role which has been played on the stage, falling inside the lack of specialty, carism, self-esteem, individualism; searching for a reputation and an image on the outside just because the inner one was totally absent, yearning to affirmation starting from nothing but appearance of profoundity while totally lost inside the depths of my schizofrenic mind, getting to wonder who I am for the simple reason that I WAS NOT nor AM NOT anything anymore.

This is what I dreamed of today: Murder, homicide, destruction, cynism, war... then "No, no, no, no that can't be me!" and still abandoned to the strong empty thought I've been able to build, the burning fire of violent, uncontrollable emotions.
The same ones which I fed this black screen with.
The same ones which I first wrote my thoughts for, in this place.

Murder, homicide, destruction, cynism, war: all against myself.

Today I start a new fight... no more within, but against me.

There won't be winners nor losers.

Victory will be victory for life, only at the end of my days.

Defeat will be defeat for death, before my days may end.

Once I wrote that I wouldn't die this way, and if this had to be, it would be by my own conscience.
Here is the last impulse of my Boring Will of Power.

Stream of consciousness... rational unruled world inside my mind, generating that conscience which is just a well-packaged product of a badly packaged man within this society of entertainment packaging.

Society... You've been one of the accused during my trial by Injury. From you I fled, hiding here inside this box, it's because of you, because of your history, that now I'm coming back. I'm coming for your head.

Because of your history I destroyed mine, now I'm coming... to regain my present.

As for you, my dear black screen... I guess you're a resource that doesn't need to be used anymore. I guess you're still active thanks to my vanity. I guess that, if you could, you should be thankful to my vanity for the fact that I let you live here, in this wasteland.
But, before my vanity stands my selfishness, my will of survival. This is the task of your surveillance, here within this confined-insanity territory:

The assurance of my not-return.

------------------------------------------------------------

Communication is over.
Never see you again.

Out.

Waking up in the morning.
Every intention looks like an excuse.

As days pass by, morning comes too early and night time falls too late.
I can vividly feel the pain within this bumping into the walls here and there, from time to time, always looking for a new direction, always trying to convince myself that surely there must be a direction.
And it's harder and harder to wake up in the morning, so tired of actively searching for something to grip, tired of believing in something I don't want to believe.
The weight of activity on my shoulders, the illusion of a progress which never really existed...

But sometimes all I want to do is wait...

Why can't I just receive such revelation? Here, waiting for a vocation, and a voice to call me, to make feel at home, feel safe...
What do I miss to receive that call? What do I need to try, still? Do I have to touch the ground to learn? Do I have to resign? To surrender definetely?

Have I ever stood still, for real? Have I ever let my soul be? Why does anything appear so gray? What's this state of mind? What is this about?

I'm sure... I'm just looking for a happy ending.

Morning comes too early
and nighttime falls too late
And sometimes all I want to do
is wait
The shadow I've been hiding in
has fled from me today

I know it's easier to walk away
than look it in the eye
But I will raise a shelter to the sky
and here beneath this
star tonight I'll lie
She will slowly yield the light
As I awaken from the longest
night

Dreams are shaking
Set sirens waking up tired eyes
With the light the memories
all rush into his head

By a candle stands a mirror
Of his heart and soul she
dances
She was dancing thru the night
above his bed

And walking to the window
he throws the shutters out
against the wall
And from an ivory tower hears
her call
"Let light surround you"

It's been a long, long time
He's had a while to think it over
In the end he only sees the
change
Light to dark
Dark to light
Light to dark
Dark to light

Heaven must be more than this
When angels waken with a kiss
Sacred hearts won't take the
pain
But mine will never be the same

He stands before the window
His shadow slowly fading from
the wall
And from an ivory tower hears
her call
"Let the light surround you"

Once lost but I was found
When I heard the stained glass
shatter all around me
I sent the spirits tumbling
down the hill
But I will hold this one on high
above me still
She whispers words to clear my mind
I once could see but now at last
I'm blind

I know it's easier to walk away
than look it in the eye
But I had given all that
I could take
And now I've only habits left
to break
Tonight I'll still be lying here
Surrounded in all the light

Different evening.
I hadn't laughed so deeply and fully for so long.

I hadn't been so serious and full of arguments, calm and excited at the same time, since long ago.

So communicative, in search of debate and open-minded... It's been a long time since I had so much to speak and talk and joke about.

It's not the first time I feel something that's changing underneath.
It's not the first time I don't know whether all this will eventually bring to something.
But I think it's the first time I feel that, wherever this will take me to, whether it'll take me anywhere or not, I just don't mind at all.

Infinity flows and widespreads within the presence, within that present moment of my being-here; now, in this world.