What happens when the scariest thing in the room is your own reflection? In Paura di me gIANMARIA transforms that fear into a raw, rhythm-driven confession. Through images of sleepless, smoke-filled nights and friendships he has literally set on fire, the young Italian artist admits he often attacks the people who care about him and ignores his own wellbeing. The chant-like “Paura di me” (“I’m afraid of myself”) becomes a warning siren: he is both the culprit and the casualty of his self-made chaos.
Yet beneath all that self-sabotage flickers a stubborn spark of hope. gIANMARIA pictures a future birthday surrounded by regrets, wonders if he should kneel and forgive himself, and recalls how boredom and a curious heart once pushed him to explore the world. By the final refrain he chooses to leave the wreckage behind and face forward, trembling but determined. The result is an addictive anthem that turns vulnerability into a sing-along battle cry, inviting every listener to stare down their own inner monsters and step into the unknown anyway.