San Martino

“Daring ideas are like chessmen moved forward. They may be beaten, but they may start a winning game.”

― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I’ve been spending so much time in my head these days, that real life is passing through like a foggy dream. Thoughts of what could have been, memories of what was and countless stories that did not make it to paper because I was so far gone, I was not able to put myself in a sitting position. Burning all the bridges which connect me to this life.   

Now I’m sitting here in my bed with my laptop, staring at the empty white space in front of me. Miriads of ideas floating in my mind. Birds all over the place, shitting on things, making a mess of a once perfect marvel building.   

Trying to choose where to start and all I can think of is an appointment I have to go to in two hours, the coffee getting cold on my night stand, my stomach curled up in constant pain. Stress I cannot deal with. Stress that I brough into my world and is now a constant reminder of my failures. I have to do more to be more productive. I have to achieve more if I want to repair the damage I did to my life.   

My laptop. So big and present compared to my work laptop, a relic of three years ago. A call to a distraction that brings me no joy only a little bit of money to survive.  

Feelings. All over the place. Since I’ve stopped taking hormones I can feel my feelings again and I’m not used to them anymore. Like a teenager, everything that happens, causes my body to respond with some kind of feelings I can’t control and trying to control every emotion you feel is excruciating.   

Rain pouring down behind my window. Fog creeping in the distance and birds as happy as I am that no one is outside today. Blissful tranquillity underlined by a soft loneliness. Not even one message. In the background the supple sound of church bells. En echo of the middle ages for ever wandering through the hills and valleys of this hobbit land. Probably what Giosuè Carducci must have seen while writing San Martino. I always liked that poem and I still know it by heart; it’s like walking through a nativity scene made in San Gregorio Armeno. Funny though the rain reminds me of the time I spent in the Amazon forest instead of the sea of my homeland. It just rained once while I was there but the damp feeling is the same and when I think of the sea, I think of the sun hugging my skin and the wind gently caressing my face. I think of the rhythmic sound of the waves dissolving on the shore. I think of the sand between my toes. The vastness of the horizon and the possibilities laying beyond it.   

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