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THE CAPSULE

THE CAPSULE

There is a perfect moment for everybody, in which you are exactly where you want to be, exactly who you want to be with.
A both abstract and concrete moment, of which you’ll remember everything even if the outlines will fade.
A cameo in everybody’s life, a small island of happiness, when you are in the right place, with the right light, with the right person.
And in this strange state of grace, what happened before and what will happen after that moment are not important; its why, how and when are not important: there is only its duration.
It doesn’t matter how much you have run, climbed, worked hard to arrive there, it doesn’t matter how much you feared for reaching that moment by a whisker: when you’re living it, your lungs let in some fresh air and, maybe, it takes your breath away but, for a nanosecond of insane lucidity, you feel it, you see it clear: it is the perfect moment.
I don’t know about you, but I remember my perfect moment in details: I remember that house, that scent, the light changing over time, that voice and the sensation it would be unique and inimitable.
I loved everything about it, also what didn’t happen.
I worked hard for it and I deserved it, and yet I feel I should be grateful.
What is perfect for somebody can be enhanced, revisable, perfectible, and not fundamental for others.
Well, yes, ‘f course but…fuck’em, okay?
I don’t even know why I’m writing this, I don’t know what sense it makes or has made or could make.
What I know – and I know it for sure – is that I wish everybody to have this exact sensation to be in the capsule in the right moment and not a second later, because within it there is a beautiful place, just as Neverland.

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