Raindrops of Reality - [poetry]

Orientation

I never had a good sense of direction, I suppose. In town, I can't remember the last time I wasn't afraid to fall into these shabby neighborhoods, where they say happy people are hiding.

My problem is not much so the orientation itself. It is I do not want; I don't want to find myself in these huge spaces where I feel so small, I don't want to be part of these groups and these happy couples on the sidewalks, I don't want to walk the streets whose names are unknown to me.

At least I never wanted to be afraid of it.

One day, however, I passed tall buildings, of which you only see in colorful movies. I wasn't walking alone, and for a moment I seemed to know where I was going. My steps followed each other while I was freeing myself from this closed mind.

The center of the place was empty, and only surrounded with all those flourishes which inebriated the eyes, then, from my demented being, I knew we would come back there.

Shanghai; let me remember of you everywhere else.