[37] Thunderstruck, ACDC.
gix / il mestolo nel lavello, iod edizioni, 2023.

It's fury, it's a wave, it's a rock, it's force. It's a window banging shut. It's the night howling.

It sounds just like your deepest thoughts — the ones with no rocks, no sand, no harbour to crash against.

And at night they crash about, a little before you fall asleep, bouncing between your chest and the bedroom walls.

Those thoughts that are torment, panic, noise.

An intense roar, undefined and endless.

A thousand things you do, to drown it out, to stop being a victim of its wake, oblivious, even proud, foolish.

You lose yourself in things, telling yourself deep down it's fine like this. Maybe you feel like you've made it, and you do everything you can to hide it. You deny the evidence, the feelings, the instinct.

You build yourself stories, facts, situations. You look for something normal, something calm, something peaceful.

Sometimes it's just a breeze.

And deep down you're fine, you do your things, the same things, the same mistakes, the same eyes, the same hands, the same life.

But it comes back. Violent, unstoppable, overwhelming…

It throws everything back into question, chaos and noise. And deep down you know that's exactly what you want, because that's your nature — a nature that can't stay still, always searching for something new, something far away, as far as possible from everything you've lost, and yet you keep looking.

And you keep trying, imagining how it could have gone differently. But instead it went exactly like this, with all its baggage of "ifs", "buts", "maybes", "thoughs".

Then it settles, then it comes back, then it settles, then it comes back.

Like that song, the one you always feel like hearing.

The one you play, and play again, that happens and will keep happening everywhere, anywhere in the world, in any situation, in any way.

All of a sudden, not the why, I don't know the why, all of a sudden. Ready to grab you, shake you, violently.

And right there, you'll find the awareness and the strength to leave it all as it is, or maybe, to let yourself be carried away, to start again, perhaps, to live again and put it all back into question.

When the wind picks up.