March

"Let yourself be loved. A phrase said with the sensation of frustration face to the awful facts but with sense in any case. In relax, at night the words take some signification when the time is ignoring, however the week. Bad music and beer. Sunday night and tomorrow will be for millions a day to start the count to arrive to the next week end. Same when the people see the night as the time to arrive for the next dream,  sometimes also with the same promise to reach a morning without sadness and nostalgia. Ignoring the other beautiful songs to dance, let in mind the same sad song. 

Nevertheless,  inspiration for the poets is the cruel behavior of the lost loves. The dream itself and not the real moment. It is to easy to hanker the imagination and not all the landscape: the gris afternoon, the dismissive look and the simple tiredness with any possibility to rest in silence and in tranquility with the demons and instincts.   Why then the longing? Depression gives sensibility, but now is a case of emotion. The emotion needs a new light to inspiration and sensations. Why then the lie? Human mind loves to build shocking worlds, impressive and imposible models in a past that will never be future. Forty-one years and other couple of months more can assure it.

March can be a strange month. At the bed, the memories of the moments that were never, they are mixed with the real present. In the table, same proposition however the silence arrives to be a whisper. Time is sun and darkness. Rain, heat, snow, noise, silence. A ripple in a forest and the breath in the mountain to remember the life that will be.  The sea is an image in the mind, and the bright eyes are part of the memories..., and in the same strange moment it is not possible to remember the color of them. In March, life and death are in the same stanza of time, without names or smells. Yes, someone cried for first time in this world, and many others to do so despite the years. At this city, streets are lines in a page. Immobile, the pen rest without draw any step. However all dreams and nightmares.

In red, it is a possibility to change the sadness by fear. The same nervousness that leads to acceptance. Self-renunciation? No. Just a visible abnegation due to the impossibility of the insistence. At this world, landscapes and bodies help us to show to the others that we forget, even though we burn ourselves inside. Easy, insistence is harassment and in love, it is not a question to carry on, to press the the dreams in fallacies. Bed stories are more real that love poems... and in any case, the humans are made to love many, not to build just one and only love. In red, a new first time is an impressive shock of worlds. So, it is time to dance an other song. 

Motivation is not a necessary an extraordinary explosion. In blue, it is possible to accept tranquility and peace. However the perturbation demanded to be loved. We are the romantics, in March, which observe the night and the day in Sunday. Ignoring the other sadness of thousands of city habitants for the Monday morning. Sun, rain, clouds and green. March is a rupture month, when the possibility to change excitation for love is temptress. But, the pen still in the street to write something different, may be something stirring. Inspirator since the first sentence."