I actually wanted to write this yesterday, but then, Pino, Quando, and Chi tene o'mare.
It was done in one go, after a chat with Gaetano (Gravina), who every time he speaks throws the Raudi (the New Year's beatings) into your brain and is capable, with a simple interlayer, of building you or, in most cases of cases, and rightly so, to totally dismantle you.
You see.
It was what I told you, or rather, always said.
That wasn't me.
I had to understand, and sure, I had time, and you actually gave me time, I know this, but I couldn't be me.
I was surrounded, scammed, oppressed by things that fell on me, certainly by my own will, and that I wasn't able to manage as best I could, and perhaps, that wasn't the time for you and for me.
You know, those things that make themselves understood only when they actually hurt you, they corrode your strength, your thoughts, your body.
But I told you, you'll see, you'll see, but one day it will change.
And I'm not saying this just because I'm convinced I've arrived, on the contrary.
This is just a restart, one of the new restarts.
And I am sure that with you all this could never have happened, happened to me and above all, happened to us.
You stopped, perhaps too soon or perhaps, at the right time, to be home, a home capable of welcoming me, of holding me, of making me grow.
Then, you know, I'm fine on my own.
And not feeling bad about someone, maybe just for company. I prefer to be alone but without anyone who technically bothers me, and rightly so, eh!
Of course, maybe the ways, the facts afterwards, it could have ended a little better, even if I realize that probably how it ended was exactly how that story was.
It's not like I want to be cool, though.
Do you know what that means though?
