... Here we are. weary explorers in the belly of a whale forgotten in a polluted beach of the Adriatic. Here we are singing with anger without lighting it on an altar relics. Here we are yesterday, today and maybe tomorrow, betrayal and traitors, anarchists for fashion, smiling to the fluorescence of glances too studied. we are cruel to fatigue, intoxication sensitive to any substance advertised. we are just, chronic laggards, used to have dinner with aperitifs and wines by the strange names advanced. Here we are dressed in everything that we do not want others to see. we are looking at us and we are alike. we are vague and untidy to vomit consciousness and Montenegro in rooms too colorful. we are masters of many treasures with nothing to say. we are without time or place to slip away. we are throwing away for a few moments of famous anonymity. Here we are in a forgotten country to seek comfort in all that separates us from ourselves ...
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