Ping

Why do we write? I sometimes wonder whether reaching out to everybody through online platforms is the same as reaching out to no one. It must be the same with writing a book, I guess. The writer pours their heart on a few pages for all to see, for some to take in, to mean…

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Our little tribulations

As I passed by the flat of one of my neighbours, I remembered that someone died alone there a few years ago and took weeks to be found. Months later, a young couple moved in. Now their toddler’s toys were spread in front of their door, illustrating our inevitable cycle of life and death with…

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Those songs

Aren’t all the songs the same song? Aren’t all the books the same book? What I find in them, isn’t it what I need each time? Doesn’t my unconscious project what my conscious ego needs to see? My brain carefully selects the words I need to hear and removes the rest, which are no longer…

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A horizon of here

I look at the horizon sometimes, mesmerised at the fact that I can see something I will never be able to reach. I remember it took me some time as a child to grasp the concept. I kept asking where exactly that ‘horizon’ was, as if it were a geographic spot and I needed the…

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Soundtrack to a farewell

To me, nothing symbolises the ephemeral life like music. We can frame light and colour in a photograph, in a painting, but we cannot retain a melody. Music comes to us, touches our soul and leaves. Like those subtle notes in Beethoven’s fifth piano concert. They come, float casually in the air and leave. Like…

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The wanderer

I am in a train. I can see the outside world changing. Day, night, rain, sun, clouds, trees, unending concrete cities, a mountain. A succession of images outside. Inside, I remain still. From my perspective, I do not move. I am not surprised that Man once thought that the planet where it dwells was the…

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In the fall of ‘no’

I don’t know what the title means, it just came to my mind. ‘Yes’ seems so invasive, so active, so demanding. ‘No’ means to stay with myself, peace, nothingness. ‘Yes’ is outside. ‘No’ is inside. I have as a desktop image a photograph of a path in the forest, full of bluebells (here it is,…

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Surrender

Sometimes we read an apparently harmless line, and we can hear the hammer hitting the nail inside us. ‘Whack!’. Then, silence. The small drop hits the lake and slowly, relentlessly, the wave it produces reaches all the corners of our being. A shiver. Our world has changed. A hard truth we always knew, possibly. I…

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On doing nothing

I recently finished watching the fourth season of The Crown. Throughout the series, the characters explain how the Crown and the elected Government represent the two sides of power. One side that is changeable, works hands-on, gets dirty and suffers the blame, and another side that is eternal, idealised, immaculate, almost magical. There comes a…

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The Void

And who am I? This question fills me with a kind of emptiness, as if highlighting what’s missing, rather than what’s present. The void. The nothingness that accompanies the lack of answers. The void has been with me since my early childhood, draining energy, will, and light. I tried to escape from it, to bury…

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