Saturday 26th July 2008

Everything is vain, everything is shadow. Even the appearance of a deceased, even the appearance of an angel. Even the appearance of Christ.

Shadow also my stigmata.

The sunset spreads its wings of death on all things.

Wisdom is also melancholy.

The Last Supper is also melancholy. Shadows are also loved. And life is a shadow.

What a joy to say yes to God.

One lives and dies in communion with the living and with the dead.

The only one does not shade the final sun, God all in all and in all.

I will die in the arms of Poetry. I will die in the embrace of the Faith. I did not love power, image, sex, money. I was cruel to me. I loved my enemies. I loved the object and the objects of my prophetic polemic. Like the Homer shipwrecked I draw the shore. Nausicaa comes to meet me, the Joy of Light, the Light of Joy. The living water that flows impetuously from the foundation of the Temple, from the Word-mouth, from the woolly throne of the Lamb.
Living cross, cross of my eyes and my senses, supreme Christ, supremami, supremacists.

This is my biological testament.

This article is available in Italian too