Confiteor: Come scoprii che non avrei fatto la rivoluzione

This is the story of an eternal childhood from which springs the shape and meaning of all to come. Where are you? Where am I? Why are we here? How did everything change, and we never noticed? Time has passed, and no one will come again to shout outside my window. And in this darkness that seems to surround everything, we realize the slightest sign would have been enough: a gesture, a song, a word, a kiss, one’s presence. It would have been simple, if our goodwill had become doing good.