メリクリ

Buone feste a tutti.

L.

We all share a secret, one year After.

霧

I don’t know. I don’t want to know. The fog in my head. nothing more, nothing else.

I can’t think clearly. I lose myself in this greish sky.

The music echoes in my head like in an empty ambient.

I can see nothing, I am nothing. I feel nothing. Only the soothing calm of the mist.

I can grab an handfl of it, and yet I have nothing in my hands.

If we could express all the emotions of every man using an atmospherical condition, someone would be a summer sun, someone a snow landscape, someone a thunderstorm, and yet, I’d be always a november fog.

I move through everything being unnoticed. I don’t want to be noticed.

Who can actually stop, or really cares of the fog? you only hope to arrive home safely, or that eventually it’ll go away.

There’s no beauty in the fog.
There’s no joy in the mist.

And yet, you know that outside of it there’s something waiting for you.

You only have to guess the right direction.