NOW MEETS MAD UNCLE ALBERT LIVING IN HIS
I remember I looked outside my window, I was hearing,
touching warm rain
falling... I saw a Cadillac, down into the grave, I was
staring at the man stabbed
in the face. The street was burning Devil's fire and
the sky seemed to tremble while suffo-
cated, compressed, apparently dead air was about to
implode into previously un-felt
raging temperatures, some old people are dying, some
other will soon follow ...
I'm stuck in the middle of the street, street that's
melting into black smoke,
the still fresh asphalt exhales such a nasty, neutral
smell... I can't wait, I
seem to feel the cars and motorbikes steel penetrating
it's like drinking poison and raping my menthal
conditions... Then, I crashed into
a borderlining, drunk guy called "Mad Uncle Albert",
his face devastated by dissolution
and his consciousness deprived of any feeling and
sensation, "Mad Uncle Albert
you're dead..." - that was the ordinary statement
by his fellow friends... they
looked forward to watching him falling into the ground
and never waking up.
The rule there was insanity, any stimulation or
motivation was seen as mere
utopia... maybe they didn't even know the meaning of
this word........... They
used to die as old rockers driven-crazy by their
ill-fated destiny, atrocious
deads after atrociously never-ending nights drowned in
booze and fatal wishes.
On the border again, to see life from the obscure
angle, "it's nothing more
than a different point of view", people from the
haunted village used to say to foreigners
They drank disillusions and they sucked pain and
disregard, non-sense is the
common-sense, and depravity is just the ordinary.
"Wicked minds are the
entertainment, here, regular ones are forbidden... this
is OUR law... take it
or leave it..." Wherever you see asylums and
insane people, here you will
find peace and comfort, and you'll die silently wrapped
silence". ...and then, suddenly, I saw myself
running toward the exit
in order to capture the last breath of light, darkness
me, like being possessed by a poisoned snake ready to
bite, no time left,
"....I might be taken as a prisoner and never get
out of here..........." -
I constantly repeated to myself. Even the Sun seemed to
in disgrace while the Moon was left masterminding the
Shortly afterwards I heard from a passer-by that Mad
Uncle Albert was dying
of misunderstanding, while I was vanishing into the
red-blooded sands of the village,
corrupted and progressively consumed by my anxiety....
I soon began to sweaten, cold,
cold sweat that furrowed my face, I was shaken with
tears and anger, sadness and
acid paranoia... I couldn't get the meaning of the
moment... "Is that surrender...
Is that the Lady of the Haunted Village who's waiting
to kiss my bleeding lips?...."...
I was being swallowed by this nightmare, waiting for
the next glimpse of life
to take me back to surface and nevermore let my spirit
torn and alone..........
expecting to wake up and see the light of the day once
more, before falling
asleep again into the realm of unknown...........
I might get murdered, the next time....
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