Our acts aren’t the result of our free will They are simply pretty and foolish efforts Elapsing between two moments of stasis With the unique and sad intention Of making the waiting less tedious and painful. Only few instants are truly intense Like the moment when you land A blow after an asphyxiating and breathless concentration And the blow will allow you to free your most precious vital space Till now oppressed, corrupted and seriously endangered By the nimblest intruder Aware and heedless of his disengaged final condition We are strangely attracted by the moment’s changes More or less curious, indeed, we react to climatic events No one can know, better than us, that we avoid Absorbing that tinkling element by being ready To protect our wretched ego with phoney and fake Portable barriers, charged with visible Radiations only without any seeming aim. Affective games seems to be an interesting communication matter Although we try and retry to disown this emotional appendix We are enraptured and nervously tossed in another Logic of mind with the only goal to cloud And to remove from us the coveted disengaged final condition