In this thing that was once known as a more or less molecularly structured mind, I was desperately looking for Jimmy Hendrix to ask how the fuck he walked on the rainbow.I always thought about what I should ask someone I admired, but when I found him, all I did was look at the tips of my shoes and by the time I decided to talk to him, the frame would burn and I would appear in another place I didn't know, watching a group of ladies playing bridge.I think that the pain that I had to suffer, and why not, they and you, are the same pain that Ian Curtis suffered, and that the beatings that they gave me hurt more than the pain that they are giving this guy that I am, but I am sure that my nose was bleeding much more than his.And when I go back to the moment when I'm putting a piece of cotton in my nostrils all I can think about is asking Jimmy Hendrix how the fuck he used to walk on the rainbow.I lived many lives in many different bodies, but only in this one did I feel that this could happen.I think we don't have to be disappointed if someone tells us the end of a film, but we have to be satisfied with having achieved our "Zenyatta Mondatta".
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I.C.U
General Fiction"Debbie Harry and Kurt Cobain; Luca Prodan; a city that burns; a freckled girl who leaves; a war on a mysterious island and a cursed writer are the flashes that run through the mind of a teenager who suffered a motorcycle accident."
