Author archives: gianlucavassallo

  • Day Twelve. To Finish

  • And then it happens that it is over, even if we do not see the end. With eyes full of everything we should have become, without being able to really do it. To our eyes, at least, given as a present to the life we found ourselves to look at. To the life that we have had the inviolable foolishness to [...]
  • Day Eleven. To Belong

  • Every millimeter of space, each molecule of oxygen, a gram of flour, the final word, one cent change. Everything belongs to someone. Even the right of excluding.  I have fallen in love with the city, I admit it, I have done it as an aware adult, untidy beard and welcoming eyes, an abusive and con[...]
  • Day Ten. To Become

  • There are clothes and insects, the servile manners, the truth of a hug. Measures that cannot be translated, unexpected guests and homes, who knows how many, and lives and judgements. Indivisible childhood memories, a take-away adolescence, the present just digested and the hunger to swallow down fu[...]
  • Day Nine. To Write.

  • An inaccurate portion of light passes through the long field of my feelings. The taxi in the morning, four letters by heart, the precise memory of an ordinary place, beyond any boundaries. I write for the same reasons I exist, not to back out of opinions, I write as I need daily strictness, I nee[...]
  • Day Eight. To Measure.

  • As if water could be chewed. I live this way, of an indecent measure, of improper terms, of things that happen while I see them happening, pierced with joy from being there and from derelicts, from clouds of sugar and from a walking hunger. From the hope left everywhere and from the cynicism fat[...]
  • Day Seven. To Fall Silent

  • A man and a half, almost two to be precise. The glasses hanging halfway between the nostrils and the sweated forehead. He has been standing still over there since the moment I have arrived, doing little more than feeling his own sweat. Smelling Canal that stinks of summer, enchanting, stripping ol[...]