Writing a declaration of intent is always dangerous: the risk is believing that a programme comes before experience, when instead it is its imperfect fruit, in constant transformation.

EXIT, the blog, is born from the magazine and amplifies its path.
It is a propagation, not a frame.

I. THE ORIGINAL GEOGRAPHY

1. The Threshold

EXIT is born from a threshold.
A point where language cracks, the body shifts rhythm, the city opens like a slit.
To exit does not mean to flee: it means becoming porous, letting other energies pass through us.

EXIT is therefore a magazine, a blog, a set of convergences composed of momentary and non-momentary communities.
But above all it is a field: a symbolic territory where poetry meets art, where the metropolis speaks with silence, fullness with emptiness, quantity with solitude, where the self unravels and recomposes itself in a perpetual struggle between liberation and self-imposition.

2. Margin

We choose the margin as a fertile place, not as a periphery.
It is here that language renews itself, perception sharpens, identity becomes relation.

The margin is not a boundary: it is a possibility.
To inhabit the margin means accepting that nothing is stable, that every gesture is crossed by external forces, that language — seen from the outside — becomes more alive, more restless, more necessary, resisting both the evaporating new and the ossified old.

3. Port

The margin is EXIT’s condition; the port is its form of life.

A port is not only travel.
It is not only continuous movement, nor only the epic of crossing the world.
The port, taken as home, is the opposite: an inhabited place that never stops being traversed.

To live in a port means this: remaining still and letting arrivals touch you, inhabiting a house that is never entirely closed, exposing yourself to currents that carry otherness, accents, imaginaries.

Those who live in a port do not go into the world: the world arrives to them.

Berlin is a land-port: an urban quay, a city that welcomes and lets depart.
Every voice stays for an indeterminate time, then resumes its trajectory.
And whoever remains becomes the custodian of a movement that does not belong to them and, at the same time, constitutes them.

EXIT is born in the port.
In the posture of those who inhabit the margin as a real place, of those who hold together roots and transit.

Here, Italian — and every other mother tongue — is contaminated not so much by other languages as by an elsewhere;
it becomes more porous, more perforated, more open.
Here, poetry becomes a fertile disturbance.

It is a condition that becomes metaphor for anyone who feels like an Ex, for anyone willing to take on the task of fully living the condition our time offers us.

Margin and port: this is our geography.
An edge that does not close, a point of mooring that does not hold.
A fixed place crossed by continuous currents.

II. THE COROLLARIES

Everything that follows is born from this original position.
These are its effects, its emanations, the forms in which an opening incarnates.

Then the Body

The body is the first poetic space.
To write means listening to what vibrates beneath the surface: breath, Atmen, fatigue, desire, memory, as well as what touches it from the outside.

We need a poetry unafraid of corporeality — of its libido and its fragility.

Then the Metropolis

Berlin is our ground of origin, but not our limit.
The city is a laboratory: noise, movement, entanglement, construction and ruin.
We seek in the streets the same tension we seek in texts: a rhythm, a fissure, a current.

Then Nature

Nature is not a bucolic escape, but a cosmos that crosses us.
A forest of processes, interdependencies, metamorphoses.
Poetry can recompose the bond between organic and inorganic, between human and more-than-human.

Then Otherness

The other is not an obstacle: it is a breach.
The magazine is born for Italian-speaking poets living in the world, not to protect a language, but to expose it to whatever transforms the writing self, whatever makes it other.

Then Technology

Technology is not the opposite of poetry.
It is an extension of listening, of the body: interference, friction, possibility, a dialectic between freedom and the danger of control.
We are interested in the point where the digital becomes intensity and not mere saturation.

Then Imagination

Imagination — poetic, visionary, mythical, symbolic thought — is not escape: it is knowledge.
It is seeing what is not yet there but is already pressing.
We affirm a vision unafraid of the symbolic, the visionary, the invisible.

Then Silence

Every word is born from what has been left unsaid.
Silence is not absence, but a field of forces:
the place where images settle and from which they emerge.

The We

EXIT’s we is not an already formed community, not an identity, not a compact body.

The we of EXIT is a port-we, a space: a field that opens when someone arrives, when a voice appears at the margin, when a language touches another.

It is an intermittent, momentary, real we, precisely because it is fragile.
A we that does not demand continuity, does not ask for belonging, welcomes spontaneous convergences and presences that do not need to last.

If it were a stable, identity-driven we, it would fall back into the same coercive form as the I.
The bourgeois I imposes itself as centre; a solid we would impose itself as totality.
Both create borders, rules, perimeters, loyalties.
And it is precisely this form that EXIT rejects.

This is why our we is a place, not a subject.
A posture, not a flag.
A magnetic field that turns on and off depending on who passes through.

The we of EXIT does not describe what we are: it summons what may happen.
It does not represent the community, but the very possibility of relation.

It is a temporary landing, a collective resonance, a circle that forms without closing.

The we is the last corollary of the port:
a shared presence that does not bind,
an encounter without obligatory duration,
a form of closeness that does not require identity.

This is EXIT

A passage more than a doctrine.
A direction, not a definition.
A port always open, always traversed.