Marco, apparently 30, always lived in Milan, I sing in a chaoticmelodicnoisyhardcore band called The Disgrazia Legend ( the disgrazia legend ), I love to travel, play shows, meet new faces and see new places, from the big cities to the small unknown villages. I like to hang out with friends. I play basketball since i was 5.
I study at the Milan State University, my majors are Cinema, Theatre and so on. I also work as a web & graphic designer, sometimes it's fun sometimes it's a pain in the ass, you never know, but it's way better than boring and suffocating networking or corporate jobs.. sounds like I'm a die-hard worker huh?
what else? well, I like movies, good movies and old movies too especcially the good ones of course, history, poetry and to write down my memories for the future wasted generations..
can't think of anything else to say with a sense, the rest of my life is full of scary secrets.. addio.
Read it, feel it and read it again!
don't be afraid to admit it belongs to you, it will make feel good! I am serious
Don't Disappear
Don't disappear. . . . By disappearing from me,
you will disappear from yourself,
betraying your own self forever,
and that will be the basest dishonesty.
Don't disappear. . . . To disappear is so easy.
It's impossible to resurrect one another.
Death drags down too deep.
Death even for a moment is too long.
Don't disappear. . . . Forget the third shadow.
In love there are only two. There are no thirds.
We both will be pure on Judgment Day,
when the trumpets call us to account.
Don't disappear. . . . We have redeemed sin.
We both are free of the law, we are sinless.
We are worthy together of the forgiveness of those
whom we have unintentionally wounded.
Don't disappear. . . . One can disappear in an instant,
but how could we meet later in the centuries ahead?
Is your double possible in the world,
and my double? Only barely in our children.
Don't disappear. . . . Give me your palm.
I am written on it--this I believe.
What makes one's last love terrible
is that it is not love, but fear of loss.
(Yevgeny Yevtushenko)
