Striker of The Gods

As you may think, Caos was a lonely boy, the one who would do everything for love and appreciation. His mother would work her ass off because of her job addiction. She loved Caos and yet this love was not enough for her to spend time with her only son. This may be not enough for those who want to live forever.

The thing is, we cannot shape the way others behave. Well, at least not in the way you can actually hug them for whatever they are in your life because you will not be around forever. Do everything you love with utter passion or perhaps as I would rather say this cannot be the ultimate end of what can be done in what you could call the space between the shadow and the soul. Passion is cheap, but mercy… it can save your life in the most desperate way that we serve on a plate of love.

As he trained, Caos would score goals from the corner at 6 years old, preparing himself with 1000 push ups, 700 sit ups, 500 jumping squats, and 10 km every day. He was doing the impossible. Everyday was survival. More than just living, it could be the rule of loving that one that can take you to hug the breath of doing everything with passion. Maybe, he would just try to supresss the unique tendency to shower the love of prize. That is to say that everything can change. Even so, it cannot shape the unique love that shakes everything. The new part of life cannot take away from the only tendencies of love. Perhaps, he was just trying to be accepted into a society that did not breathe the same way he would do.

One day something arrived in his email:

Caos: this cannot be true: it is from Del Piero.

Di Del Piero

A: Daniel

Ciao,

Daniel,

Con te sarò nuovo. Ti dico queste parole nel periodo migliore della mia vita, nel periodo in cui sto bene, in cui ho capito tante cose. Nel periodo in cui mi sono finalmente ricongiunto con la mia gioia. In questo periodo la mia vita è piena, ho tante cose intorno a me che mi piacciono, che mi affascinano. Sto molto bene da solo, e la mia vita senza di te è meravigliosa.

Una casa senza libreria è una casa senza dignità, — ha qualcosa della locanda, — è come una città senza librai, — un villaggio senza scuole, — una lettera senza ortografía nel silenzio per la vita con lamore propio.

Lo so che detto così suona male, ma non fraintendermi, intendo dire che ti chiedo di stare con me non perché senza di te io sia infelice: sarei egoista, bisognoso e interessato alla mia sola felicità, e così tu saresti la mia salvezza. Io ti chiedo di stare con me perché la mia vita in questo momento è veramente meravigliosa, ma con te lo sarebbe ancora di più. Se senza di te vivessi una vita squallida, vuota, misera non avrebbe alcun valore rinunciarci per te.

Voglio essere il tuo padre.

(With you, I’ll be new. I’m saying these words to you in the best period of my life, in the period when I’m feeling good, when I’ve understood so many things. In the period when I’ve finally reconnected with my joy. My life is full right now, I have so many things around me that I like, that fascinate me. I’m very happy alone, and my life without you is wonderful. I know it sounds bad, but don’t get me wrong. I’m saying that I’m asking you to be with me not because I’m unhappy without you: I’d be selfish, needy, and interested only in my own happiness, and so you would be my salvation. I’m asking you to be with me because my life right now is truly wonderful,

A house without a library is a house without dignity, — it has something of the inn, — it is like a city without booksellers, — a village without schools, — a letter without spelling

 but with you it would be even more so. If without you I lived a squalid, empty, miserable life, there would be no point in giving it up for you.

I wanna be your father.)