Silence.
looking out the window to see that the sky is brown: even if the difference in a few minutes, perhaps due to some clouds, or will someone up there, it goes down at the same time yesterday, and, most likely tomorrow .
Strive to listen to the noises coming from outside: the same roar of engines, and the new Fiat Panda, and the usual GTT, and Cavourese Sapav. And if you try to listen to the noises from other rooms, you'll see the same people who feel they follow the same program every day on the same TV.
And then you find yourself stopping in your bed, in a silence illusory to think about your impotence in front of the repetitiveness of each day, this scroll relentless march of time, but still perhaps too similar in its continuing. Do you realize how in the end this sort of large "Routine" globalization is a comfort for all and all, is one of the few real certainties remain, though perhaps a source of frenzy and optimization of time and thus disposed of, at least for the mind, "free" time, or addicted to thinking. And you know also that I write this, that you think of this, we're coming, get away from it, breaking the great law of the repeated always the same of everything. Meanwhile
who are you to think, part of a song on your stereo, 1978 such a Zocca, singing "And yet you continue to age, Always convinced that the best years are yet to come! "
And you understand that this man will never live the song his best years, totally deprived of autonomy from this devastating routine that you build yourself. And while you are getting in your thinking, analyzing things, the time and its inexorable as news. This news will surprise you perplexed and thoughtful further. But in the meantime for today has saved you from the routine. And while you realize that since you began to think at least half an hour has passed and the sun has not yet set. And you think to yourself that tomorrow I can not imagine any way that will be a surprise that only make it live extraordinary, perhaps even the first el'immaginarsela trivializes. And so do you go out on the street hear the wind blow and you realize that I had never noticed, but that even a butterfly, if you listen, you can scream. And you think "What a surprise this is still life ...."
October 2007
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