I got off the bus but I could still listen to his words like a buzz in my ear:“My office is very small, without windows but it’s just mine and it’s next to the President’s one. I feel honoured to be His assistant. He’s a man with the highest responsability, He handles the life of thousand of people, He’s always plunged to His huge armchair, in front a three computer screens, with His head sustained by His hand. They say He never rises from this position, He never uses His voice, He can see people and give His orders by mental-control; He can go through the walls like a ghost.
I’ve been selected for this reason. I can listen to His mental commands and my body reacts properly to His power. I will learn to go through the walls. I’ve been chosen to be His successor.”

Friday I got up early because I had an important appointment. I took a bus at 7 in the mornig and I sat close to a guy, just shaven, who was smelling like a clerk going to work. Maybe I was still sleeping but I heard he talk to himself. I’m not sure he was moving his lips but I could listen distinctly to his words:” The sun is missing. For how long haven’t I seen the sun so far? I forgot. The new job is really binding. The day goes by so quickly, just completed three reports, updated some files, recorded the daily meetings and it’s gone. And the night welcomes me again at the exit, out of work, in my way home. My skin is now as light as the milk. But this is the first step to be accepted to the Royal Moon, the rare powerful elite of people who never sleep...”

I was walking with other souls in that arid desert that you used to know too. My pace was tired and heavy, my breath short, my eyes lowered to dodge the dangerous holes in the ground. Rests of bodies scattered around, some rocks springing fire, ponds of melted earth were boiling a step from me and those black lead clouds were covering the horizon and miles and miles beyond.
And one day I crossed your way for a while, my baby, and you smiled at me like a ray of sun. You gave me some orange juice and talked a bit in a language I didn't know. Maybe I dreamt it but then you broke off, I took your hand and, I could swear it, we flied away

Instead Mr.Blackberry calls on me in the night. He is afraid to sleep. He is 89 years old. For me it’s not a big trouble, because I don’t need to sleep much in the night and I like always some company.
We do recording sessions. I use a program of my computer for recording voice, I bought a microphone, and I hand it to Mr. B.. He clears his voice, he coughs two times,and he starts talking from the bottom of his stomach, from the wearyness of his ailments. This night he’s talking about the time he swam in a little lake in the greek mountainsduring the war. He was escaping from soldiers. He could hear shots far. He reached a little village in the other side of the lake where he was hidden and forced to work like a slave for two years. He still can remember the pain of his legs when they stopped moving, cantracted in spasmodic cramps. He was drowning at 50 meters from the bank. But with the force of his arms he reached the shore, where he slept all the night .
There are some memories that are like engraved in his head, he said. Memories that give man the pride of having lived. And he was there with this microphone in his hand, this choking voice in his mouth just because these memories were too big to let them die.

Professor Rock visited me today. Despite his name, he is an old-fashioned quiet elderly man. He often drops by me in the morning, because he knows I’m at home. He comes in silently (I left him my key), prepares some tea, somewhen brings some pastries, opens my windows and waits, sit in a chair, against my bed, for my awakening.
Today I didn’t enjoyed much his arrival because he was really too early for me, I was having a deep and nice sleep, smiling and laughing, I don’t remeber any more for what. So he talked to me about this strange thing, called “Lucid dreaming”. That means that during sleep, you can dream what you like and you can control the events in the fantasy land. There is a technique that needs a lot of practising. It consists in asking yourself throughout the day if you are awake or you are sleeping. I feel chills when I think of this.For example, in this very moment, in the darkness of my room, with all the flies buzzing around my head, drips from the ceiling, spiders and tomatos on my plate, trying to take off, do you think I’m awake or in a dream (and you with me)?

I met the grey-haired boy a month ago. He was staying behind a bar, in a cafeteria, playing with some kind of electronic device. I understood immediately that something was wrong with him. His hair, his voice very young, a hint of a hump in his back. I never managed to be so close to see whether there were some wrinkles around his eyes. I hang around this cafeteria a lot of times to gather any clue about his identity and activities. But he never talks about himself. With the help of a friend I’ve followed him to his place, he never goes out the night, nobody calls on him. In the morning i wait out of his house but he gets out alone. I could steal two times his wallet abd with the biggest surprise i could find neither photos nor documents! Sometimes I tried to chat with him but he spoke very formally to me and made me feel uncorfortable. I asked him how long he is working and he answered with a half smile “I can’t remember anymore...”. Now all the facts make me sure and I have no doubt to state , although it can appear very weird (if not impossible),that we are in front of the rare event of a man without age.

When I woke up this morning

When I woke up this morning
I heard a disturbing sound
I said
when I wake up this morning
I heard a disturbing sound
What I heard was a jingle-jangle
of a thousand lost souls
I'm talking about the souls
of mortal men and women departed from this life
Those lost, anguished souls roaming unseen
over the earth seeking a divine light
They'll not find because it's too late!
Too late! Yeah! Too late for them
to see again the light they once chose
not to follow! All right!
Don't be lost when the time comes!
For the day of the lord cometh...
as a thief in the night! Amen!
(the Blues Brothers)

The dead man has been found drained almost completely of blood. This is the first surprising analysis' result that makes this fact even more absurd and projects me and my neighborhood in a story of vampires... Kidding or not, everybody feels personally touched by this death that is now believed to be a delict. A police man visited me yesterday when I was yet with Rebecca. I couldn't say much (even less because of my eyes), he just made me shiver when he let Rebecca handle his gun. Maybe he just wanted to impress her. He immediately repented as Rebecca made the fake of throwing the loaded weapon at me. Then you could listen to her, and just her, laugh filling my house...

This morning I was wake up by the bell; a friend of mine, Rebecca, called on me because she saw my building in tv yesterday night. They have found a corpse in our courtyard and there is a lot of traffic in the stairs.
She entered my place overexcited. She asked what I knew. I said that yesterday I always slept and I didn’t knew anything. I’ve turned up the TV and actually they were talking about my building.
What I’ve come to know it’s quite absurd. The corpse of a man’s been found in our internal parking lot. It was half covered by snow.
What happaned? In that place had been for a long time a big heap of snow, which was accumulated in a corner of the parking place to allow cars to park..Yesterday it must have been a warm day of sun and it melted the snow, revieling a body inside. Since that heap of snow has stayed in the courtyard for some weeks, nobody knows when this man died.

Yesterday night I got out of the clinic at nearly two. I’ve been sleeping all the day in the sofa. With a nice smile on my mouth...

Today I will vanish for some hours.
The grandfather clock is striking 6 times.
Then I will desappear completely.

Oh my darling, where are you when I need you so much?
Why are you so far?

Nick is Karont on earth. I knew him when I needed a guide in Venice to follow the tracks of a friend. He leaded me in the Venice’s hell. I met poets and visionary minds who can drink for hours and derange your stable balance with their mad talks. He protected me from agoraphobes and misanthropes who meet the first hours after midnight and start walking through the "campi" of Venice when all the turist normally go away from the city or come back in the hotels .
Nick belongs to this hell. I just remember his fire eyes, the eyes of the "diable", wich can burn every look. They say he sleeps just two hours per night, he is endowed with an extraordinary energy. His mind works six times faster than a normal mind, I saw him playing ten matches of chess contemporary and blind as well, he spends his time studying modern tecnology and antiques arts, he owns and cultivates three different identities, he can walk on the water. He is relentless
I came to know of one of his website. Here the address if you are interested: Venice Secrets
I hope none of yours will enconter him in his road.

Some nights I can’t really sleep because I’m completely terrified. The reason is that I see SHADOWS.
I’ve been living in a little flat by my own, since I left my parents eight years ago. There is not a big reason for this decision, just I didn’t want my parents to be too worried for me. Because of my sight, I mean. I already told that I see about nothing, just a thick fog between you and me. It happened in an accident but that's not what I want to say now.
In the evening I see these shadows moving in my house. Just slight variations of hue and light for my eyes, going from a room to the entrance, from the hall to the bathroom.
I think they are the children of my neighborhood. I’m quite sure it’s them. Nice children really. I was like them in my building. Very curious and lively. Good children, I like their parents.Just... I don’t like this joke. They enter my home in the night.I fancy also how they enter. A few times I forgot my keys out of door and they had surely duplicated them keeping a copy.
Sometime, when they are in my room they look at me, and, I don’t know why, I cannot breath, I can just hardly perceive the beat of their heart. I call them. I ask to go away but they don’t answer. I can imagine their grin.
Funny joke, really funny.

Yesterday I went to this party, maybe I must say I was brought to this party, because I didn't want to go. Anyway I found nice people but who can really say I was really in front of nice people? I mean if you steal them their car are u sure they will be so nice with u?
This friend of mine has always been very understending to me, once he came to me pick me up at the airport. It was 180 miles from his place. I don't like to forget such kindness so when he ringed at my door yesterday I couldn't refuse to go with him
Anyway this is not what I want to talk about.
It’s about a guy I met who was drinking a lot at the bar when he fell down at my feet. I didn't see him until I stepped on his chest. I helped him get up, when I took his hand and I noticed something wrong. It turned out he had just four fingers. One was cut off.
He did do it. So told me. I thought was kidding. What had really happened? He had a crash while was heading for home in the night. Her wife was hit in the head and died. He, in the end, lost just his finger, the ring finger.
He said that that now didn't matter anymore.

I come around almost blind, that's why people talk to me quite freely, because they know I couldn't recognize them in the future. Neither in a trial.Yesterday in front of my place I was approached by a man , very dim around, I could just see him leaning on me, very big-size shape, maybe seven foot tall.
Stopped me and handed me a kind of bunch of wool. He said to me in a sort of sweet way:
- I can't sleep without, soft like her, smell like her.
I think he was smiling a bit.
I told him he was right.
Then he grabbed my arm and my jacket with extraordinary strenght and I was forced to let his treasure.
He went off without saying a word.