Climbing
was already passed by the morning I had started to increase, and the afternoon was imminent, the fatigue was at the gates of weakness.
Climb a mountain, even if it is not easy to medium difficulty. Having found a foothold sure, and breath thinking about what to do. The support leg trembling in the effort: And I had to laugh, thinking of the verse of Dante, when you climb the mountain of hell, "... is that the firm foot ever was the 'lowest ...". Meanwhile, I looked around to see where it was better to hang up with more confidence. I could hear the gusts of wind whistling against the rock, and freeze the sweat of the brow. You do not hear much noise, or anything that was not of loneliness and wind. I looked carefully, what I'm hung over. In a flash I realized that it lacked a lot to achieve a small balcony where I could have refreshment, before proceeding to the final effort. Making
force, resumed the climb, but I noticed that the weight of the backpack I would not be allowed to go on for another time, the weight on my back was now unbearable. The
oppressed me panting chest hurt me to the point of the lungs, with their essential needs. Making violence I passed a few footholds, and finally resting the elbow to the balustrade, guadagnai the safe harbor.
Won the danger, now a new anxiety shook me, that of being caught by darkness, before having completed my intent. This new anxiety made me think, I saw the top of the summit, still far away, I thought that with all that weight back I could not reach it before dark. So I took a quick decision: undid the buckles and the cordons of the backpack and began to get rid of excess weight.
The first thing I threw in a vacuum, were the quarrels in the family, then I svincolai the grief of the death of his grandmother, hurled into the abyss the separation of my parents, and also down the long illness of my mother, and finally I burst dell'involto huge and heavy, the thousands and thousands of disgust of life, I downloaded that burden, making him tumble down the cliff. I tried the bottom of the bag if there was anything else left to burn, there was just a peak roll of canvas, I served it to know its contents: there were some rare moments of happiness, which no longer even remembered its existence.
I closed my backpack, threw it on his back recovering to rise, light and carefree.
Cristiano 4/11/2009
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