why we cry
I’m in one of those self service places full of washing machines, I really need clean clothes. I’m in Florence and I don’t really know why. I ask myself why we cry, why we want to cry? I was supposed...
View Articlethe potential of this setting
the guy asks me if I want to smoke a cigarette with him. he’s blonde and skinny and looks eighteen. hopefully is older than that. we leave the others inside. he lights my cigarette and after thirty...
View Articlescars
the first thing I remember about the sun is the blinding light. the next thing I can recall, one of my earliest memories, is this nun in primary school slapping my face very hard. it was mean, because...
View Articlesummer city walk
I need to go out. first I decide to go looking for her. she can heal me. the map I traced over and over inside my body takes me straight to where she lives. I’m wearing a white t shirt and dark...
View Articlesatellites_ an encounter told by memory #1: 1999
it’s july and it’s hot as hell outside. M and I spend the afternoons in his room with the light filtering through the blinds. we positioned two mattresses and a rug on the floor. on the rug there’s a...
View Articlesatellites_ an encounter told by memory #2: 2003
I came to Naples to meet M and we’re walking through Piazza del Gesù. M says that I look fine and he likes ‘the way I carry myself’. he hasn’t touched heroin for a few months and gained some weight....
View Articlesatellites_an encounter told by memory #3: 2004
2004_1 we haven’t heard from M in two days. the last time I saw him was at the train station where he took a train for Bologna. he asked me for money, but I only had twenty euros so I couldn’t give...
View Articlesatellites_an encounter told by memory #4: 2011
I’m waiting for tube in Stazione Centrale and my train will be here in three minutes and a half. we’re well into spring, everything melted and winter is far gone. a voice calls my name, I turn around...
View Articleon love #1
love will make it up for all the rest. for our failures, our delusions, our solitude, our bitterness, our grudges, our inabilities. love is what’s going to fill the void, the knight that carries our...
View Articleit’s not that I drink, it’s that I don’t stop
it’s not that I drink, it’s that I don’t stop, once I get started. and when I’m so pissed that I can’t even bring the bottle to my mouth I decide to pass out for an hour so that I can be sober enough...
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