• Montagne della follia*

Questo può suonare come follia - un sacco di follia - ma qui va...

Ho una maledizione che deve essere quella tipica di tutti dal segno zodiacale Scorpione. Le mie parole fanno male alle persone. Il mio silenzio anche fa male alle persone. I miei atti fanno male alle persone. La mia mancanza di azione anche fa male alle persone.

Questa non è la prima volta nella mia vita che riconosco questa maledizione. Ma ora sembra che si fa male più di tutti i tempi. E mi fa male in cambio tanto.

Per abbassare i danni, forse dovrei essere tranquillo. Meglio stare in silenzio nel mio angolo. Ma... Ho questa cosa che mi porta a scrivere sulla mia follia. Per controllarla. Guardarla in faccia. Affrontarla. E poi, niente ci perseguita come le cose che non dicono.

In cima a tutto questo, io sono una tripla Scorpione, come qualcuno una volta mi ha detto e mi ha lasciato con questo fatto che io sono orgoglioso di dire su di me. Senza alcun motivo particolare. A meno che suona grazioso alla mia vanità.

Dopo, il mio segno cinese è il Topo. E mi piace moltissimo una ragazza che è... Serpente.

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* “Mountains of Madness”, in italian. As Howard Phillips Lovecraft, an horror fiction american author, has referred to the "strange and disturbing” paintings of Nicholas Roerich, also known as Nikolai Konstantinovich Rerikh, who in his turn was a russian painter, writer, archaeologist, theosophist, enlightener, philosopher and public figure. In his youth was influenced by a movement in russian society around the occult. More info about him can be found at the Estonian Roerich Society website, clicking here.

• Let's hold hands and go!

You know what?… Sometimes I wish to challenge you to do something you might not be able to accept. Sometimes I wish we could just hold our hands and escape to a desert island, just the two of us.

I know, it’s utopic… It’s too foolish, too romantic, etc… But… That’s what I would like us to do.

And besides, we know already what it is us living on a desert island. We experienced it. Inside a flat.

• Sweet n' sour

That’s what you are, girl. Sweet and sour. And perhaps that’s why I love you. Because you’re not just sweet…

But when you are, you are generously sweet. And you are still keeping inside you so much sweetness, I can guess.

Sour, you’re not too sour… It’s just me who is compelled to feel your sourness deeper.

I think I love you to the last drop of blood in my body. Or I should... I must... I need to... It's YOU! I think… Maybe I should not think so much. Maybe I just should… feel.

We lived in what I feel today was a fine harmony, for more than a month together. Could it be possible that we would live like that until the end of our lives?… There I go again, thinking too much!…

I woke up today with these words in my mind. Maybe they are not perfect. But at least they are spontaneous. Maybe that’s how art should be. Spontaneous rather than perfect.

To love is an art. On which I’m far from being perfect. Yet. But at least I hope to be always true. To myself at first. And afterwards to my unfortunate beloved one too.

Maybe these words have been dictated to me. From up above. I suspect I never before had these words deep inside me. Or even that it was possible.

What will people think about these words one day if they read them?… Should I care? Will I even be here in this world still?…

I strongly hope someone could read them, soon. This is my message in a bottle. I hope someone could save me. From myself.

Will it be you, girl?… Was it you, all along? Do you, after all, need me to save you, too?… Oh, that’s right, you don’t need anyone. You don’t need to be saved in the first place. The sourness in you will never leave you admit anything that I say. Not to me.

I still like much more your sweetness. You have it even in your tears.

• C’est quoi ça, être un poète?..

“Il est mortel de se moquer d’un poète, 

d’aimer un poète, d’être un poète.”

- Robert Graves, in "La Déesse Blanche"

Cet citation m’a paru la première fois que je l'ai lu, soudain comme un coup de foudre, être mon parfait miroir. 

Suis-je un poète?… Parait-il qu’il est mortel d’être moi. Et de m’aimer, aussi. Je cause du mal aux gens qui ose me connaitre à fond. Et que j’ose aimer en retour, malheureusement.

Ne vous moquez pas de moi non plus, quand je oserai questionner si quand-même… Les poètes n’ont jamais trop de sous dans sa poche?… Bof, alors je suis un poète.

Plutôt ne pas être un poète. Si j'avais suffisamment, pas trop d’argent, je m’acheterais une maison. Oú je désirerai de vivre avec mon ange à moi.

Ensuite je crois bien que nous aurions envie d'héberger beaucoup de ces anges, nos bons amis, qui sont toujours en voyage autour de ce monde, tous ensemble autour de la chaude cheminée de notre foyer et d'un bon vin moscatel, qui garde en soi toute la chaleur du soleil de l'été à ce beau pays oú je suis né.

Regardons bien: si j'ai mélangé la poésie avec l'argent, c'est parce que, comme le bon vieux Robert Graves a aussi dit un jour…

J'espère que les anges m'écoutent et me puissent aider à accomplir ma supérieur mission de ce chaud amour humain. Y a pas de meilleur usage qu'on puisse faire de l'argent que peut nous toucher un jour avec la bonne chance.  ;-)

Que les dieux puissent reconnaitre ce talent que je crois ils m'ont bien donné. Ça pourrait aider aussi à générer ce que mon ange à moi a appelé "the energy of money", un tout nouveau concept pour moi, à ce jour-lá qu'elle l'a verbalisé. À voir...

Alea jacta est.

• The most powerful drug

On this rainy day here where I stand, too far from you, girl, I wish to ask angels just one thing: that you can be as happy or even more than you made me feel when I realized what it means when you said that "you are rich and grateful, because you have now even more love in your life than you never thought to be" possible.

I love you like I never loved anyone else before in my life or will I ever love.

You are the supreme love of my life, kallis ingel.

Despite of all the hard times we both are living these days, each one of us on their corner of the world, the important thing is that YOU feel this love inside you.

And that you can find happiness on having this feeling, that allow you to keep on fighting for your dreams and goals.

I feel grateful and happy to know this from you. Because when you will be happy, no matter what the cause, I will be happy too.

Yesterday you wished me head õõd and to sleep well. And I started to miss when we could held our hands tightly.

We shall held them once again one day soon, I believe. The order of the universe demands so to maintain its balance.

Our hugs too were my life fuel. I miss our hugs. It's too hard to live without our hugs. Hugging anyone else but you won't do. I feel it.

Receiving your hug is the most powerful drug there is in this world!… Well, I was never on drugs in all my life, but I can't imagine any other drug more powerful.

You're right. I just got what I deserved. And so did you, girl. We did.

• Só no acto do amor

“Só no acto do amor - pela límpida abstracção de estrela 

do que se sente - capta-se a incógnita do instante 

que é duramente cristalina e vibrante no ar e a vida é esse 

instante incontável, maior que o acontecimento em si.”

 - Clarice Lispector

It was almost midnight. It was dark. It was cold, too. Cold as I rarely had felt so cold in my life.

We were walking back home. Through this park between the expresso linja-autoasema and the great lake. By the side of this small lakes, where we see sometimes pairs of swans, called the Pikku Vesijärvi.

My backpack was heavy. Or was it yours that I was carrying, I don’t remember. My steps were quick and mechanical. I was very selfishly wishing to get back to your home warmth. Not caring about your own wishes, if you would like to enjoy the cold of the night little bit more. Or watch the moonlight. Or search for your dear swan, once again.

In my mind were wandering some negative thoughts. That I was not sharing with you. Thoughts like that I was living then perhaps the last days in my life by your side.

I went one day to meet you, in this faraway land where you live. In order to discover how fine it would be to live by your side. I never could have imagine, not even in my wildest dreams, it would turn out to be this great!...

Down to earth... My nose was always runny. And in some moment, all of a sudden, you stopped me. And you wanted badly to kiss me. And then we hugged each other.

I thought to myself while our lips were glued, “Well, if is this what you want now, I will stand the cold for as long as it takes. You started this kiss, you will determine when we will end it.”.

You showed me how you loved me when I was least deserving it. And when I was least expecting it.

See oli üks puhas, helde ja tõsi tegude armastust keegi minu elus kunagi pani mind elama!...

Ma arvan, et ma olen payed sulle tagasi, et žest, vaid mõne sammu eemale, et kohapeal... Ma ärkasin üksi täna hommikul selle 1. jaanuar pea meeles, et ülev het.

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Note: It was not intentional… But I started this post and ended it writing in our mother languages. And in the middle, there’s a story written in english, this unique language we can use to communicate between ourselves, my sweet dear angel.