My shell armor was quickly giving way, and that black malignant hole I had on my back reminded me of that every single day.
It was in March 2019, a month after the diagnosis, that I took these photos. At that time I did not mean to publish them: too intimate, there was no reason to show myself and my feelings that much.
Then, an unexpected journey in Japan opened my eyes. Tatemae and Honne, the facade and the true spirit in Japanese. That facade was collapsing, despite my efforts to keep it intact because of the conventions and the formality required by Italian culture and society. My true spirit, honne, was emerging, wanting to be seen by everybody, not willing to collapse under the weight of the rubble of the tatemae.