Click here for Italian/origianl version: https://loscrittorevolante.com/2021/03/02/poesia-fatti-una-passeggiata/
“Take a walk”, I say to myself,
I almost do that everyday, a couple of hours…
And once a month, for a week, I start drinking a few beers again, one a day.
Perhaps in the afternoon, for a week. I stop thinking about the diet,
I indulge myself a bit, I sit on some bench.
And some other times, I walk, nowhere to go, precisely.
I breathe deeply the air of my city, while I enjoy my complete solitude.
I spoil my desire to be with myself.
I have noticed, for some years,
which is the most effective way to get better.
To forget the evil.
And I relax. If I smoked, I would also light a cigarette, or weed,
as I contemplate the world from the bench.
Sometimes I stay so long in one place that I don’t feel like getting up or moving …
Time passes, alas.
Sometimes I stop, then I walk who knows where, always in my city.
It often happened that I walked for an hour,
to go to specific places on purpose …
To go “right there”, in short.
Without using the car or public transport… just walking.
The walk is my addiction, along with my loneliness.
Sometimes I want someone who loves me with me, but often,
I want to be with who I love most: myself.
The person with whom I have the most complicated relationship:
and this is why it’s so beautiful.