I have moved here

Mi sono spostato qui

www.unixyouth.com

This blog is now closed. This cycle is now closed. I shall move elsewhere.

Somehow I pity you, for you were afraid. It doesn’t matter, all that we lost, all those hopes that now have a different face, a different name. Be well , I mean it. And be free, if you can.

I am a new man I am a new man I am a new man I am a new man I am a new man I am a new man

Your beautiful eyes , my love. How can I forget you?

Some day I smile

This website has made my day. Good old fashioned laugh!

http://itwasoverwhen.com/

No matter how hard I have tried forgetting you I still haven’t managed. You’re not helping anyways. Sent you a couple of mails , I must admit one of them was quite a provocation but hey I fucking get drunk at times and my unexpressed anger makes me do silly things. Like last night when I sent you a text message on both your phones. No reply. This morning another message to complain, same result. No reply. This goes together with your plan of removing any possible link to me, you cancelled your email accounts, skype accounts, SL groups, and you probably even got a new telephone number, don’t you? Carefully thought mate, but If you think this is a viable strategy to forget let me tell you it’s not gonna work. You’re not going away, the world is not so big for you to hide away from me indefinitely. All I was asking was to have a chat, I just wanted to talk to you because I fucking need to understand what’s come over me. By depriving me of your presence you’re not solving any (of your) problems, you’re only making my days more miserable and bitter.

No matter what I will never ever ever forgive you. Not even in dreams .

Back from the UK again. I was there just last month. Birmingham this time. Cold and rainy as you would expect. Just work and my evenings at the hotel, falling asleep quite early for lack of better. The wounds keep on hurting a bit, when I see somebody who reminds me of you. Funny how I associated the whole country to you, it’s like I have divorced from the whole country. With a touch of sadness and regret. For I see your gestures in every Brit’s gestures, I see your face in their faces. It is your smile I see when they smile. I feel detached, as if I only see things through a bulletproof glass pane. None of it can touch me. And Birmingham is perfect for a zombie movie, with all those ugly concrete buildings and red bricks mausoleums. There are zombies already, thousands of junkies weeping at me for a 10 pence piece, showing their bruises, their rotten teeth, the disgusting cracks in their faces and heads. As if they had had to fight some obscure power , overnight, in their doped wake , and lost. Ghostly Brum, I say goodbye.