Journal entry

I’ve been remiss. The words come in singular motion then scatter. They slip away from each other as I write. They don‘t stick together. Lately, the words seem to slide out of place.

'Form a line.' I say. They try, but they stray. Hence, so many Photo Journals.

Then recently, my eyes fell across a formation of words I wish I had written.

The truth of the matter: 

‘Perché scrivo? 

Per paura.

Per paura che si perda il ricordo della vita delle persone di cui scrivo.

Per paura che si perda il ricordo di me.’ *

And so I continue.

Even if the words are disobedient.

 *Fabrizio De Andrè (1940-1999)

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