Stefano Marforio

I was born in Milan on August 15, 1984, after seventeen very long hours of labor and a rather combative pregnancy.

I apparently started being a nuisance early on.

In 2010 I graduated in Mechanical Engineering in Milan, and since then I have spent my days doing calculations, designing machines and processes useful to the progress of humanity. I work surrounded by serious, surprising, and often pleasant people, all for a noble purpose: to eat, live, raise a family, and set aside money for inscrutable future projects that today I cannot even imagine.

I have been writing for as long as I can remember. At first I did it to preserve memories and — I'll admit it — because I was convinced it might help me seduce girls. Then I continued because I could no longer do without portraying the reality around me; playing with it, manipulating it by mixing symbols, memories, and dreams. Over time, what had been a youthful passion took root, hardened, became internalized, turning into a demanding and absolutely indispensable love. Something that increasingly defines me in my own eyes and in those of others.

I write short stories, aphorisms, short novels, poems; each time I use what I need, but I do not use AI.

And like words, which never end, I hope I will never end my stories either: because to end is to die, while to begin is life, it is joy. I often start new things, and this continual beginning — starting without finishing, letting a world be glimpsed that will be, but will not be in my pages — is the true stylistic hallmark of everything I tell.