My heart is where you are

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We must believe in luck.

For how else can we explain the success of those we don’t like?
Like these coloured balloons flown in the sky. Did they get lucky, or did they not get stuck on the branches of this tree?

Is it fortunate to be born in a poor country, not to have food, but happy, or is it lucky to be depressed, but with a full stomach and people around us always upset?

Where is the luck in being at three in the morning to write some sentences (maybe …) without meaning, in thinking of a journey, a change of job, a new dimension. Where is the luck in having to chase every single penny every day? Where is the luck in not being born in Nepal instead of in the central of the Mediterranean Sea? Is it really luck? Or is it a curse we are paying for without knowing it?

Why don’t you call me?

Yeah, why?!?

A friend is leaving forever, a pleasant voice to exchange discussions with every two to three weeks. He doesn’t answer anymore, he’s not well. I’m sorry.

Where is the luck in him that appears so cruel and at the same time many criminals are doing very well?

Doctors find new medicines and new vaccines, we live longer and longer.

Can we say that we are lucky? But really who cares to die now or in 30 years? What changes? If you believe in God who cares about all this? Today, tomorrow, after-tomorrow, what changes? You will be forgotten in a few days, and nothing will stop forever except for your heart.

A helicopter passes over my head at this time of night. Has someone escaped from some prison? I’d like to sleep, And I know I will sleep well when I’m dead, but until then I will fight to see where is my star.

Where is my destine and my peace?
… what was it you said about luck?

Put your headphones on, or ask for silence around you … listen and feel the class and magic of this song …

in the meantime I will try to sleep.

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