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Our acts aren’t the result of our free will

They are simply pretty and foolish efforts

Elapsing between two moments of stasis

With the unique and sad intention

Of making the waiting less tedious and painful.

Only few instants are truly intense

Like the moment when you land

A blow after an asphyxiating and breathless concentration

And the blow will allow you to free your most precious vital space

Till now oppressed, corrupted and seriously endangered

By the nimblest intruder

Aware and heedless of his disengaged final condition

We are strangely attracted by the moment’s changes

More or less curious, indeed, we react to climatic events

No one can know, better than us, that we avoid

Absorbing that tinkling element by being ready

To protect our wretched ego with phoney and fake

Portable barriers, charged with visible

Radiations only without any seeming aim.

Affective games seems to be an interesting communication matter

Although we try and retry to disown this emotional appendix

We are enraptured and nervously tossed in another

Logic of mind with the only goal to cloud

And to remove from us the coveted disengaged final condition