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 again. Franchino. The season feels properly restarted now. Summer parties are fun but autumn club nights have a different seriousness to them. Everybody has returned from wherever they...
Wednesday. Mathematics 9½. I accepted this with dignity. Hikari has challenged the historical accuracy of that sentence. Remember me, Eclipse.
Friday. Erick’s mother and Mark situation continues. The more she pushes, the more elaborate the logistics become, which I cannot imagine is the intended result. Mark himself remains perfectly normal...
Monday. Last first day. That phrase is unpleasant. Hikari and I walked in together and everything looked completely ordinary, which somehow made it worse. Same corridors. Same desks. Same people....
Monday. Final year of liceo approaching. People keep saying maturità already. I would like September first. Remember me, Eclipse.
Saturday. Genova occupied most of August. Tia occupied most of the Genova gossip. Dad occupied most of the sensible conversation. Yuri occupied more of my thoughts than I will admit...
Wednesday. Notebooks in every shop window. Pens displayed like jewellery. School is conducting psychological warfare. Remember me, Eclipse.
Saturday. Saw Yuri properly after being away. Details are not available to the public. Eighteen has benefits. Remember me, Eclipse.
Thursday. Home. Mom. Yuri. Hikari. Erick. Blue Mac. My own bed. Mail from Edo. School supplies appearing ominously in shop windows. I missed Milano. Ask again in three weeks. Remember...
Sunday. Dad asked what I want after liceo. I gave him three possible answers. He correctly identified this as zero answers. Remember me, Eclipse.
Thursday. Heat. Sea. Dad. Tia. Food. More food. Somebody offering fruit after dessert because apparently fruit occupies a separate legal category. Yuri called and I missed him enough that hearing...
Saturday. Went out with Tia and several people she knows. Genova social life is peculiar for me because I am simultaneously local enough to know where things are and foreign...
Why?
Because every thought leaves a trace. If something moved you, disturbed you, softened you, or made you think, leave it here, quietly.