Self Control

Before you believe something, you have to pretend that you believe it.

Night is my world, just as the sun is spring in my soul. Not only as a result of the effect of a contrast of shadow and light, from one moment to another or from one place to another, having their inspiration from the model of lives built around books and fresh ideas describing the complicated trajectory of the momentary feelings, more often than through the prism of reason. But as a request to confirm the captive thought in a real game: "I’m living in the forest of my dream."

Where the tangled spiritual life penetrates within the acceptance of the two masks: that of hidden life and of creation through the functions of the Infinite Spirit, which the imagination of a mysterious setting imposes on me as an experience of an assumed wandering, at last, something worthy by my complicated and passionate work, a new world is revealed, superior to the other unilateralist approaches.

Another night, another day goes by, and I’m still trapped in the Realm of Twilight, using the Inverse Spell of Forgetting Who I Am.

As an artist trapped in loneliness, laying marks of his tumultuousness in the unspotted spaces of this unknown world, to which both the appearance of the curtain and the weakness called "I haven’t got the will to try and fight", first interpretative until I manage to completely pierce and tear it apart, I include doubts about the solidity of the past, to that of the reality and consistency of the present.

Can art reveal the hidden meaning of an identity full of dark and light, dealing with talent and zeal the making of these heavenly lights – the sun and the moon, not necessarily the testimony of a troubled conscience under overcast skies? How long can I plunge into a darker mystery than ever, inside an enigma heavier than time, compared to the distribution of the chance of demonstrating that I can use to my advantage the experiment of being isolated in the shell of a blind faith? "Before the morning comes, the story’s told."

Do you adopt a neutral, intermediate position, between the defeated and the victor, when the uncertainty of reality hovers above you?

As for my refuge in the obscurity of the deepest mystery, as in the depths of an agonizing prison, or between the walls of conventions and prejudices that take the role of sentinel before a very vulnerable defense, I would like to be able to give the same reply from a scene in the Doctor Faustus novel: "If you’d know the spirit of the bond between us, you’d know that my peace is not threatened, on the contrary, everything is based on calm and peace, a happiness settled and untouched."

A neutral, intermediate position, between the defeated and the victor, of the one on whom the uncertainty of a reality overwhelmed by fears and phantasms hovers above, is the same as that in which you cut a piece of a film running in the negative in a dimly lit room: without eyes tearing, without anyone realizing what is happening, without anyone caring about these things.

The position you adopt in front of reality is a tour of the most intimate resorts of spiritual life. Before you engage in overcoming the limits of resistance to the uncertainties that push you, you have to take part in this tour.

Through the effect of the commitment to achieve a tension-filled atmosphere inspired by the weakness called the intelligence of the honest soul, and on the other hand, extensive forms, purged by details, entered rigorously in the composition of a "Self Control" worn throughout life, serving to protect me from the abuse of any vanity lit atop a writerly décor, of great frustrations and resentments, I draw close to the craving of my poetic creation from the privileged place of artistic, high-spirited and intense anxiety.

Sometimes darkness – You help me forget to play my role !– is a fragment of time cut from a reconciliation with anguish, with which I am still in direct contact, a wonderful proximity to something unreal, but still possible, a scenario concocted by my brain and put in contradiction to the attraction towards recurring melancholy. A route traveled by the discovery of a dispositional symptom of life in a state of germination, of a defensive compulsion, of a reactional formation, continued with that state of blockage occurred as a result of a traumatic event.

Are you able to realize at a level of perception that there is something beyond what you see?

Due to my contact with Adrian Leverkuhn in Thomas Mann’s work, I came to reflect upon the complexity of the human condition, its limitations but also its possibilities to overcome them on this night that will never go:

"A work is made out of the artistic work with the purpose of creating appearance – and the question is whether in today’s state of consciousness and our knowledge, the sense of truth, this game is allowed, if it’s permissible intellectually, if it can still be taken seriously, if the work itself, as an autonomous imagination and harmonically organic, can stand in some legitimate relation with total uncertainty. Unless any appearance, even the most beautiful, in fact just the most beautiful, had not become a lie today."

Whenever you try to lock yourself into a darkness that is impenetrable, deep and mysterious as a door to a parallel universe where time flows backwards, like a question to which you do not get any answer, it happens that you relive excitingly that state of research that supports the generation of new theories or models starting from "nothing matters" and continuing with "I never stop myself from wandering why."

Everything that happens in a still frame from the film of reality represents the foundation of a lie you invent not so because you were forced, but because you wanted to believe it and, on whose behalf, you have let yourself be used. Lying can be combated by living the miracle of a new world by taking an identity of feeling established between the concept of "alterity" and "private space."

"I must believe in something, so I'll make myself believe it."

The miracle that helps you live is to believe in something that is hard to see or to further seek something that is very hard to find.

Self Control is the trait of releasing ownership of what appears to be the fatal trap of circumstances created by the sense of self-detachment. You are no longer yourself when you are questioning your skills, identity and beliefs.

If you want to overcome a moment of weakness, sometimes you have to believe in something that is not necessarily true. The same is true if you tend to go deep into a limitation of a spiritual, emotional and sometimes physical nature.

* Note: Laura Branigan - Self Control