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Mio fratello lo Storpio 10

Mio fratello lo Storpio 10

Ultmo aggiornamento 28 giorni fa da Allegro Ragazzo Morto

Sun, so boring, sun so allegiant to life but sky’s blushing ashamed of rain while purple shadows fall, calling their legacy and hours feel so thin just like the unworthiness of time. Define those lights, see how thick is the deep and over… the horizon falls wide.

And days follow days and my mind seems to be fading away by the minute, sometimes pain it’s too much, greater pain yes that kind, it’s been too much time, too much sometimes I can’t even think, it’s like breathing while sinking deeper and each breath gets heavier and thicker and my will’s missing while my hopes are just leaking, dripping down, flowing down, should I stop? Should you stop? Why feeling so bad brother? Do I feel sad? Why… if you’d answer one of my questions, just once… let’s get this straight, I’m no beggin’ you brother, I’m asking and the lesser thing you could do should be answering to me bro, sooner or later I know but answering is the lesser thing you have to do. Look at the ties… those are the perfect ones, ready for the occasion, see how much will be shown with just one of them on? I’m not that kind of guy but for you I can manage and stand all for a while, I’m no agent of changes and yet as you said before, last time we met, it was coming, you saw it first, you always see into that void but I seek more time, more of something else to get on your same line. If I could I’d be switching places with you, no fair trade I know but I’d do just for you brother. Once you used to give me advices but now it’s been a while such a consistent and rotten chunk of time, that time I would not consider as an ally of mine, time it’s more of a friend of yours than mine these days, I guess I always knew that part of your nature, that part deeply buried in my mind.

Here we go by your chair, here we go as we were… I think you may feel better I think it’s still available but you have to say it. Talk to me bro, talk to me… just once, just once… before it’s too late, lemme hear your thoughts, give me just a fraction of your time sold, I’ll give you mine.

That night, nothin' to be surprised, it was only rain (and pain), yes only rain (and pain) but it's (now) safe to explain that nothin' came without a sacrifice, you need to give somethin' in order to achieve somethin', our brother, the old one, the one I'll never get to know leaved me space, allowin' me to be and then I gave my sanity in order to make him closer. She did'n't show me any smile, I did'n't know at that time why. If things go and happen for some reason I truly can't say but that night she came like followin' a plan, a shape, a loose thread, somethin' I believed was only in my head. See brother, It's been 12 years now… it's been 12 years just yesterday and do you really want to know what it's all about? Do you really want to know what changed? Can't sleep but I'm tired, can't sleep and yet I'm so tired I feel I'm drifting away, I feel I'm rottin' from the inside, feel it in my entrails, in my damaged brain. See… each time I try I just get a (one-way) no-way ticket, but I need those sensations, that light or so I believed I needed, even last night then our mutual friend came, she did'n't tap at the window as usual but she brought rain and cold and many things more I did'n't need but must especially… she brought back pain. You know, dear brother, we have a mutual (yes we have yes we have!) friend (foe), these weeks she came visiting me each day, no way to avoid her 'cos she knows when time is right and door get open and the fire inside it's ready to start and burn. There was a time, I guess now, in which I believed I could control her standings on my solitude, then I understood on my skin what is the pain you carry and so I live this time like time I borrow… time of non-sense maybe but time indeed of sorrow, do you really wonna split?

Here we go, you lead I follow, you go forward I’ll drive you but it’s been always in the other way, I’m the one who’s lost and careless, one song, maybe two, if I’m good right into the mood it will be more than five and on them I can delay one good month refining them and making the whole arrangements, somebody let other people mix-in-up and that’s no way good. See? I may still play but nobody enters here without my permission, there are lot of writings and notations that could be easily stolen by others. Mostly I left all things unfinished in the light, I know how each work needs to be complete in my mind and I try a lot on drums and, on the boards. Someday it’s bad, someday it’s already bad and someday it doesn’t switch too much differently. I hear strings in my brain sizing, cutting, pulling, slicing and finally making a notation about the groove so newly born. I can write those notes on my paper or simply keep them well in mind and asap I nail’em down at the studio and start to work I’ll feel better. I’d like it to be so easy, I’d like to be in the old days, I’d like to be as it was but I do understand the foreseeable future has yet to come.

Someday it’s bad and some other it’s been worst, today I dunno, today it’s just the day we talk and stay and see what’s in store. Two or more, two or more, little and jagged pink ones, taken, pleased, taken, eaten, taken and carried away.

See, my brother, while you stay on your fucking chair, I try to mend and make up to you, I’m not so brave, I’m not so in shape but that’s all I got, that’s all I am and I will be forgotten soon but I’m in the need of doing one thing or two up to you. In order to talk more, to stay afloat, to understand the deep. Like those old days bro, like we were, when light was still here and things where yet to tame, when I was different and better and there we were. Try to make another castle with dry sand, see how hard is to let it stand? You built it anyway but too much closer to the shore and then wind came and then waves came and then it was no more. My hope is (still) made of sand, dry sand, my pain is just like wind and water and sand can’t stand both. Whatever was the reason it seems to be missing, it seems I’m lost, it seems it’s makin’ me down, down to the front line.

Should I sleep more? Yep, I knew it could be difficult… fact is, sleep won’t come, fact is fear won’t come, fact is she’s already here and checkin’ and lookin’ and waitin’ and if not here she’s just outside fuckin’ tapping on windows with her nails then she will eventually bring the rain and that’s it… it’s till happenin’… the rain, the pain, all and nothing inside, all and nothing into the foreseeable future, guess I should sleep more but just can’t.

Nothing comes easy you should know about. One day I pay my daily time on dices and one day more I try and make up about my own mistakes. What goes around sooner or later comes around and you know it's just a matter of life and death, not so sure this is important by anyway it’s just that. I thought, in my accurate time on suffering, it was over but I just made the wrong call. There's no true break from the cuts, from those primal fears and most important from the burns. Each easy day I get it's kind of a gift. When I'm able to talk about my inner side, when feeling brightness outside does’n't hurt too much. These days are just a bunch of leaves into the wilderness, not easy to catch up nor to hold onto them. Night follows my day and I can't say how much pain I (it) will deliver later, how much I'm gonna hurt myself. Let's look on the bright side sport, things are spinning and you are on a collision course, to know better it’s better than the unknown road. Sooner or even sooner pain will claw your meats and you stay quiet on whimpering for all necessary time and eventually more. You draw the door through which it will come and then you provide enough and so I gave her my blood and flesh and sweat and life and time.

So, it is not perfect at all, it doesn’t matter, (the other) world, this ain’t gonna hurt, it’s (not) goin’ to last, I’m in the storm and you say tempest, it’s tempting I admit, you (don’t) say pain I say hurt (again) and right now it’s really overdoing my daily (dues) duties, I try to communicate and you spit it back right into my face. But I’m more patient, I need your advices, when I’ll be no more you may drink twice.

Just rattling the cage… rats and bats scattering all around… there was a time she was able to calm all demons we’re born within, she was great and strong and silly things, these are just little silly things. She’s solitude and desperation, she’s mourning and isolation, she’s covering my back and my perceptions and you know… I need her.

Cheer up, cheer up, when (I) your brother’ll be gone, you find yourself to be all alone, you will take a note on caring about other people’s advices (and) you’ll (never) regret… I’m no more alive.