Better the Bitols or the RollinStons?
Better the caciocavallo silano or the toma?
Better the sea or the mountains?
We're going to Rimini tomorrow, what are you doing?
And don't you add a "who cares"?
People put their hands on their faces for the most trivial reasons: soccer, end-of-season sales, feuds between Youtubers, mockeries.
I don't even hear the noise they make, from up here.
They seem like ant wars.
This is what this strange music does: it sends you, straight away, to a gray two-faced satellite.
For those who long for a deafening silence, this ocean of antique electronics is the quietest retreat.
On a fictitious projectile that seems to have come out of that withered phantasmagoria of Georges Méliès: Le Voyage dans la lune, do you know it?
A world only imagined, magical and industrial at the same time.
A journey while staying still.
Impossible, but imaginable.
All you need is to have your head in the right clouds.
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