I’m the Devil




Dealing with our demons is not easy. Egocentricity should be regularly denounced.

The more I find myself and the more I disgust myself.

The more I look for certainties and the more I find ruins.

The more I invoke peace and the more I collect threats.

The more I live life and the more I die slowly.

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I climbed a mountain to dominate from above. From a hill I saw the deserted city burning in the sun of summer, all around pervading a nauseating stink coming from the sewers. There was no more water, every source was drained. It was the city of the dying, a metropolis in which the mediocre ruled and where if you had no more skills, the greater were opportunities you had. All were masters in getting away from responsibilities. People, to be no less, took them as an example and everyone was afflicted with an exaggerated sense of personal importance, accusing of each other of a presumed superiority.

I isolated myself to understand. In the desert of my desolation I was often overwhelmed by despair and sometimes I cried.

Coming to the famous crocicchio of crossroads, I met a well-dressed man. The jacket was white and even the pants. He was wearing a black shirt and a red tie, a wide-brimmed hat and a carnation in the buttonhole of his jacket. He had sparrowhawk’s moustache. He looked like the guy who came in without asking for permission and who presented himself without a call. I waved a greeting with my hand.


– Hello – he said – I’m the Devil. You surely may have heard of me.

– I’m just a project, I’m still an embryo.

– Welcome inside you. Are you sure you want to continue?

– I’d say so.

– Do you need company?

– I wanna be alone.

– As you want. If you need, call me.




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