Are you wondering what this means?
Keep reading this post: you'll discover it soon.
Let's get to the point. I created a secret alphabet.
It has a particular characteristic: every symbol of the alphabet is an intersection between the capital letter and the lowercase letter.
For this reason I decided to call it "Mesoalphabet", being in the middle between the two types.
Now I'm showing you how the letter H is formed:
First, we write down a
This is the last poem I wrote.
It's called "Pi" ("Pi greco" in Italian) and it's a hymn to the irrational number 3,1415.
The poem has a particularity: every line consists in a number of syllables according to the Pi succession. For this reason, the number you find before every line, is the number of syllables in that line.
This means that the first verse will have 3 syllables, the second 1 syllable, the third 4 and so on until the 32nd figure of Pi. I decided to stop
I don't know how much you'll care about this, but...
Today I was at school, listening to a boring Italian lesson.
I had nothing interesting to do, so I started doodling my notebook with my signature.
Now you have to know that, since my name/surname is 17 letters, I always sign with my initials only, to do it faster: A and Z.
Basically, an intersection between an A and a Z, so that the horizontal line of the A coincides with the first line of the Z.
I could start this story with "I've been waiting a long time for this moment to come", or "It was great". Yeah, but it would be so usual. And boring, right? So, I wanna start with just one word that describes perfectly any aspect of how I'm feeling today:
Just fuck. Think about, it's perfect. Surprised, happy and crazy at the same time: me.
Right now I'm leaving Milan, the sun is shining and everyone is so silent on the train. They don't know what happened yesterday:
This is a song that I wrote last August after a bad dream. Nothing special, just some words built on a simple bass riff. Anyway something fun to play with my friends:
Thinking of You
Walking down the street
and thinking of you,
all I ever thougth about
this cold and long year.
What I’m looking for
is a good place to hide,
just because I dreamt you
in my terrible night.
Feeling dead and sick
yet thinking of you,