La vita di ora

Che fine ha fatto la vita di prima? Io non la trovo. Non mi ricordo come ero, cosa provavo. Guardo indietro, alla me del prima, e non riesco a mettere a fuoco. Non la sento me. Non ho indossato tutte le scarpe che ho comprato e che sembravano indispensabili. Non ho incontrato le persone che... Continue Reading →

Staying home, far from home.

The worst moment of all this, from down here, is when you Italians go to sleep. Although for many of you the midnight has almost become dawn, that's when everything sinks and leaves room for a reflective and three-dimensional silence that smacks of helplessness and fear. Photo by Christian Lue

Quarantine

I am wondering what the Sun is thinking. He stays up until 8 to illuminate the emptiness. Tribeca, by Zachary Shakked

Spring 2020

My neighbor is a white boy in his thirties. He always wears a hat. Always. He could be American, or from Northern Europe. His house is right in front of mine. Today he cleaned it all up. Even the windows. While I am writing this, he is folding the laundry that has just been removed... Continue Reading →

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