Massimo Scognamiglio Studio

I rub my eyes and slowly try to get my bearings. The fact that I do not recognize the white, industrial looking ceiling above me implies that I am not waking up from a dream, in any place or country I know.  I have the feeling that whatever just happened…  well… must have been more than a little bit intense.

How would you feel if you knew that this book, the one that I am writing for you, and that you have just began to submerge yourself in, would be the last book that you’ll ever read?  That the curious movement of your well trained brain would, naturally, put those words one after the other after the other and that by every chapter you would be curious to want more, until the day, when you fall asleep, and wake up with a hole in your head, a gap in your brain, exactly where text is interpreted as words, where memory joins letters together so as to recognize them as consecutive parts of sentences.

Even if I have just woken up, I still feel tired, and I feel that I urgently need to just sleep a tiny bit more. I close my eyes and hope that, at some point, when I wake up, someone will tell me what exactly has happened to my head and why I don’t seem to remember anything…

My hope, my vanity and my yearning for confirmation, were all laid out together as a team of black text, traveling together on a 110 page journey to my future. There, in the outside garden of Star Bocks Coffee, I lit up a cigarette, and waited for the tattooed guy who worked in the Kinko’s across the street, to print me 15 copies. Like an anxious dad at the first day of school, I had handed him Bad Father with exact instruction on how it needed to be laid out.

I had never met a person I have never been interested in joining social clubs like the masons and, at that moment I certainly did not want to be part of this exclusive oncology member’s ‘family’, as I knew that once you are in, you will never get out.  who had as a principal aim in life, to be recognised as a silhouette

 Why can’t I just be in California?  There, between the warmth of their winter and the daily battle in my head, I had somehow found peace. 

While I am aware that for you, who like most other peoples sleep on a normal bed, Couch Surfing could be a strange concept, for me, laying on a couch, on someone else’s couch, has helped me to accept reality.

I guess there are moments in everyone’s life that become History, that will never be erased from your mind.  This twinkle in reality took the top price.  From that moment on it would, fore ever remain in my head as“The Van Roof “ moment.

This is not a conceptual art piece,  this is just my new reality with which I am trying to come to terms by writing this book.

We only see 10 percent of our own body and we never think that there is a micro universe inside of us, or inside all the plants around us.  The problem being that those invisible creatures are actually the rulers of our life, and that if we mess with them, there will be a repercussion.  

The machines are created for scientist and oncologists, who, like bankers, understand reality by using numbers. Even if they know that actually, the numbers they use are only an approximation of reality, they have no other alternative and so accept it as the truth, as if it were a religion