Poetry

No soul

The sun was still up there, staring at us. No soul was around, a total silence. By holding our breath, we could hear our hearts beating. That had something special. It lasted a few moments only, but it will last forever in my memories…

The sun was still up there, gazing at us. There was no soul around, just total silence. As we held our breath, we could hear our hearts beating.

That was something special. It lasted only a few moments, but it will last forever in my memories…

Now that I am a hundred years old, remembering this brings me pure joy. I am not fully sure if this is because of the pure beauty of the place… or if it reminds me that once, long ago, I was young and full of life. Ah, nostalgia, my dear, what are you doing to me? Was living then better? What exactly changed? What exactly happened? Is it life that changed? Or is it my perception?

Things that I disliked then are now pleasant to me. Things that I liked then are now meaningless. However, there is one thing that has remained constant throughout all those years: her.

Walking through the flames

There is always something heroic to get up from a difficult situation.

But you can have a thousand people around, and nobody will lend you a hand to help you out. Not at all. It is quite the other way around.

People will look on the other side and pretend they did not notice you lying on the floor and dying.

Remember one thing, though: when you get better (if you get better), those same people will be here to cheer with you and tell you how proud they are that you made it.

Moral of the story: do not wait for them to open a beer. You do not need anyone to have a drink.

The luxury of a glass of water

It was still dark outside. The window was slightly open. A new day was about to come. Every new day was only a pale copy from the yesterday’s template. What new? Nothing much, maybe a new pain. The lower back? The legs? The joints? It does not matter anymore.


A big mug of coffee will put all of this behind. Why am I having everything that I was dreaming of and still, the happiness seems to not be around? Maybe I should change my state of mind? Maybe… but, easy to say, harder to think. Working hard to see your bank account growing bigger and bigger and, in exchange, what do I get? White hair, dark circles. I live the dream of the poor. But its smile seems realer than the one on my face. Maybe this is the real price of things: time, health, and sleep.