Never a fault

When we cannot, when we do not know, when we do not have and cannot find the strength, when we are in a corner from which we see no way out, it is never our fault. When we are ugly and when we are sad, when we do not realize we are like this and when we feel exactly like this, when we are down, we look down and we throw ourselves further and further down, the light extinguished inside eyes made to be always lit, overwhelmed and immobilized by something that even we do not know exactly what it is, unable to move even a single step, it is not our fault.

We only know that we are small and can do little, to save at least our honor we push away those who care about us, always a step further away, we can see each other the next day, talk the next evening, reassure ourselves that we will definitely do it tomorrow, without noticing the time slipping through our hands, forgetting that there is no other life after. Prisoners of the sadness and the chaos in which we have lost ourselves, we can no longer believe and we stop asking and searching. We do not want it, but standing still is the only thing we can do, the only thing we manage to do. We would like to be able to turn off the sun, water down the sky, stop time.

We do not know how to get out of a labyrinth where we bang our head, we bang our head and we cannot do anything else but bang our head. And we keep making the exact same mistakes in every new day that life gives us, as if banging our head were our destiny and our mission, the condemnation we have deserved for the faults we have committed. We can only take refuge in memories because there exists at least an era where we were happy. Being the way we are, do we still have the right to belong to something and to someone?

Nailed to a cross, we need someone to take us down. Of the alarm that wakes us from the slumber in which we were sweetly and fatally suspended, of the noise of bars breaking and of things changing. It happens if someone pulls us out, someone who loves us so much that they remove that wall against which we were always banging our head, and forces us to take a single, small, insignificant step in another direction that can be the beginning of a life. It is our journey, the one we knew we had to depart for, without having the strength and courage to do it.

Sometimes the first step is enough and all the others come by themselves. The opening of a space where new friends and unknown possibilities can pass through. And no, the fault was not ours, ours was only the pain, and it was all we had, without knowing the luck of still being able to believe we can be happy and to hope for beautiful things. In a light that comes from within, in a great day to begin with our head held high and a full heart, keeping troubles and ghosts at bay. The fault was not ours just as the merit is not ours, fate can be good or bad, blessed is the hand capable of pulling us out of sadness and making life begin again.


Marco Grossetti
NP May 2026