I am the singer of the power metal band TimeDust and of the Iron Maiden tribute band The Clairvoyants.

My personal homepage is www.gabrielebernasconi.com.

I started taking classical piano lessons when I was 6. When I was 15 I started taking electric guitar lessons, then singing lessons with many different teachers.
I just LOVE music of all kinds, as long as it's true and played heartily.

I am a compulsive reader: I cannot fall asleep if I don't read something when I am in bed. I love fantasy novels and sagas; obviously my preferred saga is "The Lord of the Rings" by J.R.R. Tolkien. I also like:

• David Eddings - "Belgariad" and "Mallorean" sagas
• M. Weis & T. Hickman - various Dragonlance novels
• Terry Brooks - the Shannara saga
• R.A. Salvatore - various Forgotten Realms novels
• David Gemmell (rest in peace, man) - "Drenai" saga
• Terry Goodkind - "Sword of Truth" saga
• Markus Heitz - "Die Zwerge" novel
• George R. R. Martin - "A Song of Ice and Fire" saga
• Robin Hobb - the "Farseer" trilogy

I got my degree in computer science at the end of July 2006, and now I am working in the IT office of Metaltex. I love computer games, especially RPGs of The Elder Scrolls saga (Daggerfall, Morrowind, Oblivion), first person shooters (the original DooM rules!) and real-time strategic games (Warcraft series and Starcraft above all).

I am also a pen-and-paper role-player and storyteller; I love 2nd edition Advanced Dungeons&Dragons (back to the glorious TSR times!) and White Wolf's Vampire and Werewolf storytelling games.

It would be wonderful to let go of all the worries, the invisible weight of this life taken over by man and his rules, to leave and start a life anew where there are no carpets nor slippers.
Where the biting cold still has its fangs, and no one taught the storms to be sorry.
Where if you're hungry you have to find food by yourself, and no one lights the fire for you.
Where you light a cigarette to see the smoke play in the wind, and not to kill yourself a bit more.
Where the coffee is without sugar, and the wood leaves splinters in your flesh.
Where the stones still speak, and silence is the music of your heart.
Where you learn that you don't get burned because you're playing with fire, but because the fire is playing with you.
Where nothing SEEMS, and everything IS.
Where snowflakes are like caresses, and the sweat still chills you.
Where hand corns hurt like hell, and foot corns hurt worse.
Where knowing how to read is not as important as knowing how to look, and where the only books are the eyes of who's around you.
Where the wind always tells new stories, and where you learn to listen to the echoes of thoughts.
Where there are no harassments, just facts. Not hatred, just bad luck. Not anxiety, just fear.
Where a beard shields from the cold, and the clouds still bring the rain.
Where the waves are too small to be feared, but you can't stand to look at them for too long. Where you can't see the blackness, and the nothingness has your own name.

Sarebbe bello poter abbandonare tutte le preoccupazioni, il peso invisibile di questa vita dominata dall'uomo e dalle sue regole, e partire a rifarsi una vita dove non esistono i tappeti, e nemmeno le ciabatte.
Dove nessuno ha strappato i denti al freddo che morde, e dove nessuno ha insegnato ai temporali a chiedere scusa.
Dove se hai fame devi trovarti da mangiare, e dove nessuno accende il fuoco per te.
Dove accendi una sigaretta per osservare il fumo giocare col vento, e non per ucciderti un po'.
Dove il caffè si beve senza zucchero, e il legno ha le schegge.
Dove le pietre parlano ancora, e il silenzio è la musica del cuore.
Dove impari che non ti scotti perchè giochi col fuoco, ma perchè è il fuoco che gioca con te.
Dove niente sembra e tutto è.
Dove i fiocchi di neve sembrano carezze, e il sudore ti gela addosso.
Dove i calli alle mani fanno male, e quelli ai piedi peggio.
Dove saper leggere non è importante quanto saper guardare, e dove gli unici libri sono gli occhi di chi ti sta accanto.
Dove il vento racconta storie sempre nuove, e dove impari a sentire l'eco dei pensieri.
Dove non esistono dispetti, solo fatti. Non odio, solo sfortuna. Non ansia, solo paura.
Dove la barba protegge dal freddo, e le nuvole portano la pioggia.
Dove le onde sono troppo piccole per fare paura, ma non hai coraggio di guardarle troppo a lungo. Dove il nero non si vede, e il nulla ha il tuo stesso nome.