There is a manner in which certain things ask to be written, not so that they may be found, but because to exist in silence, for too long, eventually becomes insufficient. It is not urgency. It is something closer to a necessity that makes no noise, waiting patiently until it discovers the proper form. This archive was born in such a way.
Not as a diary. Not as a blog. Not as something that is updated merely for the sake of appearing alive. It is a place where certain thoughts come to rest, those which do not dissolve, those which return, those which insist with the silent obstinacy of things that truly belong to you...
Saturday. Matrix: Joy Kitikonti, Mario Più, Francesconi. I am beginning to suspect the entire year could be reconstructed from flyers. January to December in lineups, black tops, train tickets, coat-check...
Thursday. One year with Yuri. Exactly one year ago I came home, sat in front of this computer and typed that I had a boyfriend as though I had been...
Saturday. School getting serious. Splinder becoming addictive. Yuri nearly one year. Genova still providing an alternate operating system. Techno everywhere. December may proceed. Remember me, Eclipse.
Wednesday. Bad fight between Erick and his mother again. Mark was the subject. Erick came over afterwards and said he doesn’t understand why being happy has become something he has...
Saturday. Splinder has already introduced me to people I like, people I find fascinating, people who write beautifully and people I would cross a road to avoid despite never having...
Wednesday. In two weeks Yuri and I will have been together a year. A year sounded enormous when we started. Now it feels both enormous and surprisingly ordinary. He is...
Sunday. Genova. Church with Dad. Lunch. Tia later. Tea at five with four biscuits because Dad has learned the system. Tia read several Splinder comments over my shoulder and developed...
Wednesday. Teachers have stopped saying `”this year”` and begun saying `”at the maturità.”` Every subject is apparently now part of one enormous examination waiting in June like weather. I am...
Saturday. No legendary event. No giant name I need to type in capitals. Just good techno, Yuri, Hikari, Marico, Erick and Mark for part of the night, everybody in a...
Wednesday. Mathematics: 10. I put the test on the desk and looked at it for an indecent amount of time. Perfectionism is much more pleasant when satisfied. Remember me, Eclipse.
Saturday. Mark is funny. I haven’t written that enough because on this page he keeps appearing as `”the boy Erick’s mother hates,”` which is an unfair way to reduce a...
Thursday. Halloween. Matrix. Ricky Le Roy, Franchino, Zicky, plus enough black clothing in one room that for once I looked underdressed by comparison. I approve of any evening where excessive...
Why?
Because every thought leaves a trace. If something moved you, disturbed you, softened you, or made you think, leave it here, quietly.