The God of pavements

Dedicated to Sergiev, homeless and without escape

by Cecilia Resio

Although I believe this is the only way left to go,
my eyes keep looking for new directions that may lead me to places where – after an unquantifiable number of years – I would be inclined to search for other ways again and again.
It’s human destiny, they say.
I do not use it.
Of destiny I deprive myself as I am here because I wanted to get here myself, brought here by nobody, only by my wanderings and my mistakes.
Well. I don’t find any comfort in being aware that there are many people in this condition, but there is an indisputable possibility of a swerve, a sudden deviation.
This prospect makes me live in the worst possible way: normally,
but worried, as if things may undergo a change overnight and I a mutation.
I love to disappoint expectations, and long ago I stopped trying to be loved, which was not good for me nor for my fellow people.
I am still a biped but being a human is a different thing.