Head Injury And Vital Sign

past

"It slips in Golden afternoon
plan with the boat crew lazy;
an oar here, one there, no expertise
manovran her arm, in the mirage
to make some sense to our rational
zigzag large-scale "

-Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland-

So I take my rowing boat.
But sometimes I get lost in private thoughts, new universes.
I lose myself with my dreams sometimes do anneggare, throw them into the sea as punishment for treason.
Sometimes my side is a chest that looks like a coffin so is the weight that is dark in there. I hear that in the stormy nights you want me to sink and disappear forever. The sky turns black, the enemy, crushing me. Then comes the storm, and even if I try to be prepared is sometimes so strong that the risk of getting lost in all that sea, infinity. I'm afraid of the sea. The black sea, where you see nothing. Yet you talk, but talk of death. Talk about the past. Of things that I did not understand or realize too late, in the heart of wounds that still bleed.
Sometimes I would hide in some nook and cranny, but I discovered that mine is only a small boat, a paper boat abandoned on a small pond that goes without a goal, pulled from the wind.
When the sky is angry because I'm afraid I can not swim, but every time I'm about to fall, I see my trusty crew seem ready to reach out and save me from the jaws of sharks.
trusted crew Thanks to you a hearty laugh and a healthy bottle of rum.