I can re-emerge after a month long and unexpected silence. I write only now, after following the loving care with the healing of a wound so deep, as it was unexpected. Obviously I had to add this immense and devastating pain of mourning for the death of my mother. "Revenge is a dish best served cold", you told me more than a decade ago. Mine has been dropped into the bowels like a fire burning hot and my stomach still. Who knows yet if you read these pages. Sometimes it occurs to me that now might be my turn in the game murderess of continued victimization. But I thought that just touch me, just to soften the anger which has crushed my day.
Days intense than in the past. Days of great fatigue, for a daily commute that began to be unbearable after a year to accumulate miles, day nailed to his desk for writing a chapter for a textbook of philosophy that I promise until the end of the month. Sunny days, finally. A sunny, warm, warming my soul after a wet winter, as my day. I promise I'll be back to write, I promise I'll be back to read (eppena Heidegger and his companions finished ...), I promise that I will return to breathe new future, I promise my children that will accompany them with all my energy into this examination of maturity that scares them so much and I promise (you) ever ask "sold "because I could never hurt you. And I know you know, unfortunately.
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