Has everything I think already been written or said by others? Or perhaps there is still more to discover? Is there something beyond these transistors and valves that nail me to the ground, where I branch out like a cypress?
Now that an industrial, almost ancestral rhythm, lulls my sight, an electric impulse speaks again to my dreams: you have forgotten about Nature, which waits to be better heard. You must listen carefully, and just as it sings, you must harmonize. Then you will return among men and try to remember not its song, perfect and unrepeatable, but the memory of its beauty. Oh yes.
I run to embrace nature, but the more I look at it, the more I see it reflecting my deformed image, mirrored in its electronic eyes.
Marco Di Caprio
Marco Di Caprio 