Here are some fragments of my thoughts. Sometimes I feel the urge to put some reflections in writing, and for some reason I feel like putting them here. They're not really meant for anyone's reading except my own. Don't take them too seriously.
The pain of our dying love
3/9/2025
The void of your absence grew slowly, but steadily, impossible to stop. The pain was water in a crevice, dripping during the day and crumbling the rock as it freezes in the winter nights. You can split a mountain apart that way, and the winter nights were all cold. I thought I could fill that void with something lighter, something easier. I didn't know how dark that cavern would grow, and how poorly anything would stick on that wet rock. It looked ugly.
I watched in the mirror and I found myself disgusting. For putting a fake smile on while inside I felt like dying. For not taking the time to grieve you and heal from the pain we inflicted on each other. For seeking a breath of fresh air after breathing fire for months, and finding that fresh air meaningless. For hurting you when you were most vulnerable, and for the arrogance of defending my right to do so.
My sleep went away, and my health worsened. I got a bad flu over Christmas, improved a little and fell sick again 2 weeks later. My sight and my reasoning were fogged as I spent sleepless nights agitating about a void that I was trying to rationalize, and rationally fill. I tried to fill instead of taking the time to feel. And I needed to feel, so badly.
When I came back to the US it overwhelmed me. Maybe it was seeing your name every day on the sign of my street, or the badge from the day you visited the place where I work (it's still there), or going to places that felt too quite, without the sound of your yap. Physical exhaustion became my medicine. Jiu Jitsu grounded me, calmed my spirit, silenced the deafening inner noise. It allowed me to accept what I needed from the beginning: to be alone and heal.
I wish I understood it was too early to move on when you first told me, crying in pain and anger. But in my arrogance I didn't listen. I was strained from the energy it took to break up with you, my only anchor in a foreign world. I thought that solitude would have brought me back to the pain we inflicted on each other for so long. So I dug and twisted my fingers in your open wounds, rationally defending my right to see someone else just weeks after breaking your heart. I'm so sorry.
Whenever I feel like calling you, I stumble into the difficulty of doing so, now that you blocked me on every platform. I would like to talk to you, hear how you're feeling, and how the pursuit of your many dreams is going. I wonder how's your job. Are you still working there? You were so nervous about taking that picture for their website. Why didn't they publish it? Did you ask them not to? It makes me anxious that it might've not worked out.
The inability to call you is a reminder of how much you suffered, and the fact that I gave you that much pain makes me think twice, thrice, until I think that maybe I should leave you alone. Probably your pain is settling, and you're feeling a bit better. Maybe you'll meet someone who's more compatible with you. Maybe not yet, but sooner or later. You were so full of love. I want you to be happy more than I want you to be with me. All I have to offer is uncertainty and pain. Maybe I should keep them for myself.
My self doubt reflected in our relationship. The harsh standards I set to myself extended to you, and you don't like it when people tell you what to do. I saw a lot of the time we spent together as unproductive, and sometimes I just wanted to make some progress on this or that endeavor. But I saw you so eager to spend time together that I didn't have the courage to tell you. I should have been clearer. You started wondering at the reasons of my distance and become jealous, and a little crack at a time we started chipping the relationship apart. Slowly but steadily.
I wasn't a good partner to you, and you weren't to me. We were two kids trying to figure out our love, and in doing so we ended up destroying it.
I miss you tho. I miss you a lot.
The table I made
2/23/2025
Some time ago, I found a fallen tree at the side of the road. It had been cut into pieces and I took a slice of the trunk home to make a table out of it, which I finally did yesterday. This morning I sat looking at it, hence looking into myself.
It turns out it wasn't a tree, it was two. They must have merged at some point while growing up, and while they did look like a single tree from the outside, they retained their own distinct cores and personalities, and had their internal problems.
The tree on the right was older, more mature, stiffer, but also more fragile. It had a darker core, and deep cracks that make you wonder whether it was really as strong as it seemed. The tree on the left was younger, well-grained. Its core was well-defined and well rounded, with some internal features that integrated harmoniously, in the shape of a star. The core had marked borders. Did this tree hold strongly to its core values?
The relationship between the two was not easy. They shared a thick skin which isolated them from the outside, but inside they had struggles. The older tree was growing a branch when they met, but it had to give it up. The younger tree had already taken that space. The younger tree developed some bark, some scar tissue, not to get hurt by the branch, but it had to bend inward to withstand the pressure. Where the could-be branch died, a dark crater remained, and from it, a fracture emerged between the two trees.
In spite of the crater and the fracture, the two trees were still one in many ways: they still shared much wood. It can’t be known from this particular slice whether the fracture grew larger and the two trees developed as separate trunks, or if they settled their struggles and merged into one. Whichever the outcome, they had a beautiful history together. I wonder if they realized it.
What a beautiful table I made.
This is a beautiful poem that my friend Gerry, inspired by my words, wrote. Some verses express my feeling better than I could.
My Coffee Table
slow morning, sipping ethereal calm
my thought slips on this fallen tree
delighted in youth and guided by wisdom
slab of mirror in the shape of infinity
line of shared history, beautiful no matter the outcome
I picked it by the road, when I'm ready to carry on
as I see my own reflection
tracing scriptures of the two cores written in fusion and separation
conjured my yearning for someone
to share my dreams on this common
slit of dark ink in between two, not one
narrow mark of a life companion
niche to house longing, when I begin as you are gone
together under one skin, but distinct on our own
oh lucky tree, for having someone to lean on
as their roots explore the nourishing dark unknown
no fears, as we are not alone
nobody is truly alone
but, shall we fuse trunk and crown
together grown
through discovery and diary, never be worn
mutual cherishment that I'm willing to have sworn
witnessing the world in your point of view, sharing all we could've known
nowhere else I'd rather be, but this fixation
standing next to you through each revolution
petrifying me within your undying fascination
vows we once written in million version
left unspoken, never forgotten
my love's untorn, never beholden
On Surfing
2/16/2025
I just finished surfing. "Surfing." The broken pumpkin I saw on the shore had been treated better than I was. I didn't catch a single wave, except with my face. Rockaway Beach, you're rough! Still, I loved you.
Surfing is about finding a line of grace to ride the roaring monsters coming at you with the power of the ocean. It's a splendid art I haven't learned (yet?), but I enjoy the painful lessons: being thrown underwater and scrambled around by the overwhelming forces of nature. You have to be a fool on your way to being a master.
After surfing, I meditated a little. I sat salty on the shore, contemplating my feelings. My surfing sucked, but I felt good. There are no good or bad days, it's all in the eye of the beholder. I am in many aspects at a low point, but wishing for the suffering to disappear completely misses the point. The dark pit I am in can be a powerful tool for renewal and growth, but not if I rush out of it. Better get it furnished.
Getting old
2/10/2025
It's 6 am. I woke up, looked in the mirror and saw wrinkles. Not of the pretty type, the ones you get from laughing a lot. They're the wrinkles of an aging serious man.
I'm getting old, and it's worth reflecting on how I am doing. Am I where I want to be, or do I simply know no alternative? I know I'm undergoing big changes, but are they big enough? Or is there the space for a paradigm shift? If not (and if the paradigm shift is desirable), what's needed to create that space?
Work. I'm not making as much money as I could, and it's a good thing. Of course I need to learn to better advocate for myself, but the fact that I can still choose based on interest and not on money smells like freedom. There's the bigger vision on the horizon: breaking free from corporate America and going rogue, but again, is there already space for that? How do I create it?
Friends. I have good friends. They love me and I love them back, but I don't spend enough time with them. I should prioritize them more often: organize that trip, spend that money, take that time off from work. Who are the long term friends going to be? The people I grew up with or the ones I live with now?
Love. This is messy. Really messy. My heart sinks every time a street, a word, or an image brings her back. We've loved each other and thought it was enough, while being terrible partners to one another and knowing it. I miss her a lot, but do I miss her or do I miss being loved? This is so far unclear. I need to sink like a submarine for a while, disengage from the other sex and find myself again. Go monk mode, gain clarity. Only clarity and a better understanding of what love really is can tell me whether I need to move forward or to look back. If it's going to be too late it's ok. I will at least have learned something valuable about myself.
Noumenon
1/31/2025
The world that we perceive is a creation of the mind. The mind decides that a table is a table, when in reality there's only at best a patterned distribution of molecules.
Imagine perceiving the raw input of your senses before the mind orders them. Imagine seeing the almost infinite parts (atoms) that compose everything around you, and being unable to say this is a table, because in fact there's no table there. Imagine losing the notion of space and time (also a creation of the mind). Imagine being deprived of the capacity of structuring and simplifying information.
Terrifying, and this is just the raw input before the mind alters it, but still mediated by the senses. The thing itself, the noumenon, could be infinitely weirder.
Our perception of reality is only meant to navigate reality in a way that is functional for our survival. If that veil came off, would we go insane? We live in an illusion, and maybe it's good that we do.
S'i fosse foco
1/27/2025
Two days ago I went to IKEA.
I experienced a mild sense of pleasure at the comfort of the consumeristic life, and it disgusted me.
Where's the wind of the storm, the fire of the thunder, the raw intensity of all-consuming love and of the struggle between life and death.
I'd sooner burn the world to ashes than settle down in a life without struggle.
That's why I can't be happy.
I'm lost… but it's ok
1/19/2025
I'm just starting now to see and acknowledge the impact that the breakup had on me. I'm shaken in my very foundations, in ways that are not trivial.
My physical and mental health have been failing me. I can't sleep well, I get sick easily, and I've been obsessing over things that won't fix me, although they might seem like they do.
It's not as simple as missing her, although I do. I'm lost, and I feel like my older self is no longer sufficient for what will come next. I might be going through a major phase shift. I know I have to be careful.
It's possible that when this transition is over I'll realize that the problems I had with her were problems with myself. It's also possible I'll realize none of it was all that special. There's no way to know it now.
I should cherish every moment that I don't spend in my head, every moment of physical health, every laughter with a friend, every flash of hope. And yet I must not shy away from the challenge, find a local optimum and settle. I need to welcome the opportunity and embrace the change. Awareness is key.
Exploring is a necessary part of the process, even when it leads to nowhere and I feel like I'm lower than the point I started at. Action produces information. Action produces information.
The road
1/18/2025
I'm in Milan, in a car with a full tank and nowhere in the world to be. And still, I'd rather drive than face anything I could meet here, challenge or possibility. All my life I've been running, cause staying would mean taking something broken and fixing it, and starting anew is much easier.
All my life I've been running, but I'm starting to run out of places to run to. Is it time to sail back to Ithaca already?
Emotional shitstorm
1/13/2025
Close to burnout, unclear which side.
The last few weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster. My relationship went through a last series on convulsions before ending for good, something at work made it evident that this is not the long term career trajectory I want to be on, I developed a toxic relationship with something I thought would fill an unfillable void, and ended up alienating me instead, the search for a new job uncovered the discomforting awareness of my inadequacy.
The hope is that someday something good is going to come out of this, but for now it's just mindstorm and questioning all my past choices. Typical me.
The flow
08/01/2024
There’s no point in getting angry at the rain, or more in general at the events you cannot control. Just accept what comes, and if unpleasant reactions (anger, sadness) bubble up, reflect on what you could have done differently, then let it go.
You should have agency, but work with the flow of reality, not against it. Get a sense of when you can adjust the flow of events (and do it!) but don’t try to stop the river. There’s no point, it’s a waste of energy.
Going with the flow doesn’t mean don’t change anything, or be complacent with how things are. Sometimes opportunities arise to make a dent in the universe, and those should be embraced with full intentionality. Reality can be so different from what it has always been that it would seem like another universe. Learn to sense the winds of change when they come, and act accordingly.
Book: Way of the Peaceful Warrior
07/24/2024
Yesterday I started to read this book, lent to me by my good friend Fisher. It’s been so incredibly refreshing. I’m longing for a spiritual dimension in my life, I just realized it. Whether it’s meditation, yoga, prayer, … I need to create some space for that to live fully. That’s what I need to calm the restlessness.
Cause it’s true, there’s so much about wisdom that can’t be found in knowledge. The book talks about body wisdom, and the difference between ingesting knowledge and enacting wisdom.
From the book:
Use whatever knowledge you have but see its limitations. Knowledge alone does not suffice; it has no heart. No amount of knowledge will nourish or sustain your spirit; it can never bring you ultimate happiness or peace. Life requires more than knowledge; it requires intense feeling and constant energy. Life demands right action if knowledge is to come alive.
So true.
Rome and San Francisco
06/21/2024
There’s a story called Zhuangzi, about a man who fell asleep one day and dreamed that he was a butterfly. When he woke up he did not know whether he was a man who had dreamed he was a butterfly or whether he was a butterfly now dreaming he was a man. The cognitive dissonance between Rome and San Francisco is so strong it makes me wonder which one is real life, and which is a dream.
Rome is eternal, hence immutable. Every change is an illusion. Everything must change for everything to remain the same. San Francisco is the opposite. Its bursts of creativity irradiate and change the world, but they’re counterweighted by a tendency towards a cyberpunk nightmare and a drug addiction apocalypse.
Sometimes it makes me feel lonely and alienated.
Is it a necessary price for progress?
On technology
6/17/2024
I think the value of a man is proportional to the amount of good that the reverberations of his actions bring to his household, community, and humanity.
I chose technology as my professional field because I believe that enhancing humanity’s capabilities is the most impactful way to spend one’s life in our modern world.
I believe in giving humanity the tools to do more, vastly more, with less. I believe that a 1 trillion plus population of immortal human beings colonizing galaxies is a good thing, and that the dreams of a *happy de-growth* are apocalyptical nightmares.
The hypothesis according to which technology is intrinsically good morally was definitely buried in the 20th century by the atrocities committed in Europe by Nazi Germany, the most technologically advanced society of that time. However, restricting technological growth is not the solution. It’s up to the people to ensure that this ever-increasing power is harnessed in the most beneficial direction for humanity.
Life and death
6/13/2024
This week I hopped on a plane and came to Rome.
My 6-month old nephew was visiting and my 90-years old grandma was dying.
Life and death.
Worth being here in person.
Nothing is more important than family at the end of the day.
No one knew I was going. It was a most welcome surprise. I am happy I brought them joy. So happy.
I am grateful for life. I am grateful for health. I am grateful for love. I am grateful that the amount of suffering I am subject to is bearable. I am grateful for the strength to bear it.
I slept next to my dying grandma. It wasn’t pleasant. I fed her strawberries with zabaione. It was incredible. I reminded her about the good times. She nodded, but her pain was too great to smile.
I cuddled my nephew. She is chubby, expressive, curious and fun. She smiles, cries, gets mad, but mostly she is curious. Her mom taking her in her arms always made her happy.