A PICTURE OF MY HEAD IN MILAN

I see this image everywhere I go but I still haven’t figured out what it is…

What I see is a girl with long brunette hair, running with a sort of white hippish dress, running really fast, with a pair of docs, not easy to run with those, but she runs, and runs, and doesn’t stop running.

She is at the Via Valtellina in Milan, she is running towards the Cimitero Monumentale, she keeps running, passing through the railway, she doesn’t look back, she only looks forward, she keeps running, holding her breath, she just runs, runs, there is something , some sort of desperation on the way she runs, and if you can look closer and see her face, there you have your answer, she is crying, she is crying so hard, like if she was going to faint and run out of breath at any minute, but in that desperation she keeps running, it feel that if she stops running, she is going to have to face something that she doesn’t want, it’s like if she stops running, she is going to die, she is going to break down, so she needs to keep moving, as long as she is moving, that nightmare that is chasing cannot catch her and she doesn’t have to face anything that she doesn’t want, but for how long can she run?

Is not like she is a professional runner or someone in a good athletic shape. She is petite, slim, but not a sports girl. She is just a normal girl running in Milan, trying to run far, without a destination, but she is living something behind, something that is still there, but we don’t know what it is. I only have this picture in my head, I’ve seen it a couple of times in my mind, it comes back from time to time, in black and white, sometimes turning gradually into colour while she walks pass the rail station, while she leaves the Via Valtellina behind, she is running far from that house. She lives in the Via Valtellina, but I don’t where is this coming from, I don’t know what her biggest fears are, I don’t know what just happened.

Perhaps she just receive a call with bad news, perhaps something just happened to her, I just don’t know. I just know that she is not carrying a bag, nor a purse, she has nothing but that docs, that white dress, her wild wavy her and that pretty face full of tears, and she runs, and runs, and runs, and the only thing I can see is that picture, coming back to me, over and over again, and again, and again, and again, run, run, run, run, run, run…

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “A PICTURE OF MY HEAD IN MILAN

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s