Italian version: https://loscrittorevolante.com/2021/04/16/poesiala-mia-condizione/
In the end I accept this new condition of mine:
since now I’m broke my balls,
I still have those of others in mind:
like: if you have problems with a girl you like,
call her a “little bitch” or a “slut”, even if she is not,
even if you don’t think so.
As if to make me hate her,
when I do not want and am not able to hate it.
And then, I don’t want to do it, towards those I was fond of.
Here I am, in fact,
to defend a person who no longer speaks to me.
Trying to start thinking with my head,
with reasoning that goes differently,
against the tide… Against everything that has guided other people.
Because maybe this will make others feel better,
but to me, only worse.
I’m happy if they make someone feel better,
but I doubt it.
This need to be “tough”,
it is nonsense.
No need, for those who have never made “the zest”, for those who understand,
that the rind is useless.
The culture of hatred …
Everyone seems to have the right answer,
that I want another one, I want mine.
And besides I don’t give a fuck,
In any case, nobody here ever understands,
perhaps it is better to be alone, after all.
Rather than living with misconceptions,
getting caught up in this wrong world.
How to call a “bitch”, a good girl,
How to hurt even more a friend who is already hurt by her,
that he realized by himself that he was wrong …
finally I accept this condition,
I throw myself down for a moment, just a moment …
just to feel my suffering completely,
to make it flow, with the blood in my veins,
in peace … without stopping it.
To regain strength,