My art. My serene scenario. A letter, where I leave behind my guide of life :Mundus vult decipi, ergo decipiatur. I am beyond comprehension,remembering a film's reflection: Time can't heal all wounds; revenge does. Where and towards who should I direct my hatred? Day after day I gave up and left something in the past. So much till my heart became deserted in such manner that my soul abandoned me. A empty desert. Giving generously mirages to any stranger that took the time to watch in it. Do not be fooled by my fair shadowed smile. Don't think that if once I pulled you out of the dirt was a act of a worthy human.
The dream I had of my world long fallen apart,sometimes haunts my sleep. And every move I make is such automaticly performed, just to imbue the minds around with the ideea that I exist. Even you reading this lines, can feel an eerie chill slowly sneaking along your spine.Building a world in which you have believed to be normal. But know this; I am not ordinary nor logic. An inteligible text written in my flesh before it even existed. Poison and suffering enhnace my every spark of life. And now, the moment showed me how ciclic my existance came to be. So round and slowing that I am afraid. Thinking with terror that my day of peace will
never come. That I have been forgoten, and doomed to live forever this circleing human life.
Photo: Francesco Marino
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