Stories and News No. 763
Saturday there will be the Rome Gay Pride 2015.
Waiting for another day...
Once upon a time there was a day.
Which we are proud of.
Already now, we are.
Of the next tomorrow, we are.
But today, here, inside.
We are proud to be joyful.
I mean the sentiment as the nature which they need.
Still too much, they need to draw us.
We are also proud to be a lot.
How many you can count with naked eye.
And not only in the solitude, even if brave, of our own imagination.
We are also proud to give sound to the fragile strophes.
Which in the past were deleted from the final script.
As simple misprints or vain redundancies of the human lexicon.
We are proud to be able to be.
And look that is much more than what you can image.
We are proud of our eyes in yours.
Who observe closely, as sheltered from a monitor.
Yet, this is strong stuff too, believe me, if I think back to when also a stupid look could hurt.
What it should instead be cherished.
We are proud of the others.
In order of importance, of course.
Whose is now, next to us on the road.
But especially those who have traveled the same road by first.
Ignoring completely that there would be the rest.
The wonderful second, the worshiped third.
Up to us.
We are proud of colors and shapes.
Which you might reduce to a mere superficiality of the moment.
They are like loudly singing that peacefully react, despite a delay.
From a lifetime of abuse and injustice.
We are proud to be here today.
To be wherever we will be.
The next day and everyone else.
Nevertheless, we are immensely proud to have led the colorful ship called humanity.
Which, willingly and unwillingly, we sail on together to the destination it deserves.
The day when everyone, without exception, will be only proud.
Of being alive…
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