I'm knackered...

Sometimes, memories are like dreams: better than reality.

When I used to live in New York, everything seemed to be wonderful. I loved everything about it; the "city that never sleeps" was just reality. Today, the Big Apple seems more like a city that doesn't let anyone sleep. It's rather noisy, undisciplined, untidy, people are rather rude in the street and some shops you wonder whether the attendant is going to take a rifle from under the desk and shoot you.

But that's not what I'm really thinking about.

I'm thinking about Mario. About the fact that he's there, in Rome, moving through his life without understanding that I see everything. Every weakness. Every obsession. Every moment he betrays himself.

New York used to be my escape. But now I understand it was always just a place to learn how to be observant. How to watch without being seen. How to plan without revealing the plan.

Mario called me several times, but I didn't bother picking him up. He's not important right now. What's important is understanding the geometry of his desire. The way he wants Simona. The way he's destroying Sonya. The way he's completely oblivious to the fact that someone is watching. Someone is documenting. Someone is going to use all of this.

Tonight, I must go to Central Park for a bit of jogging. I went to buy all-new Nike sports gear, and I can't miss it!

Actually, I'm going to Central Park to think about how to destroy someone I love.