I don’t understand those people who when they turn one more year get demoralized because they feel older and older or who say they don’t give a damn. Instead of focusing on the fewer years they have left to live, they should be happy that they lived up to that point. Each additional year of life is a wonderful milestone to celebrate, as every day of life should be. Just for the fact of opening your eyes and having another day to live in front of you, you should smile and try to feed that smile all day. When you are young, you take everything for granted, including your health, and you don’t fully realize the extraordinary power you have right now. We often focus on a happiness that will only be achievable in the near future, but the future is only our imagination. Today it is reality. The air we are breathing, the beating of our heart and the sweat of our hands, these sensations of the present are what we take for granted as if they were eternal but they are not. Our vital senses take on their true value only when we are about to lose them. Do not allow this to happen, whatever you are doing stop for a moment and completely forget about it, breathe deeply closing your eyes, listening to your beat, touching your hands but above all enjoying being alive with a sublime smile.
I look at your graceful figure and no fantasy is needed for me to follow the return to the origins, your morning toilet is of fine oyster cloth and you are an invitation to a mud bath, your blue eye stares at me through a milky keratome, with the stiff forefinger you push aside the yellow twigs of the weeping willow and you know well that you can expect all the worst things from me. Emotional flashes and a hundred and eight gold in the finish open the way to the sewer, to the sad weekend that I am now starting to live, the dress of which I dream is woven in the rice color of Siberian cellulose, the green hands of eight hundred girls are the foundation of a sweet confession, the isoipse of the rice solidify you with a courtesy mask and the ratchets of your porcelain ears are perfectly hidden in the listening bush of your oxide macerated hair. The spheres of things and events triggered, against the course of the clock hands, run at zero time, however a single day spent with the beloved girl on a Norwegian glacier is the love bag of all worthy people.
Splinters of smashed dolls hurt my soul, the caterpillar crawling right next to my eye is bigger than the express train that passes in the distance. I don’t know which mountain farmer when he couldn’t find work years ago he started talking to a sheep. I see how my life is sucked into my mother’s life, I see how I am wound back from the umbilical cord to the womb of the progenitor Eve. I see how the stained underpants are the imprint of infinity and the intestines stirred by noble horror lead to a higher vision, I see my semen as against the current being sucked backwards to the first pollution like a mountain trout, I see how from the organ sexual intercourse of all my ancestors are sucked back into the spermatic canal of the progenitor Adam. I live tactfully the resection of the rib that I still miss today.
And in the meantime this is your little waist and this is your pleated skirt from the belt to the delicate crepe and this is your toilet of the silky ivory color and it is an empire model and this is the confirmation dress kept as a souvenir and this is your back dappled by beer coasters and these are your loose hair and staves of music flow from your head. I see how naked you are now sailing under the dark beams, I see your rhythmic hands illuminated by the violent spray of the yellow chandelier, I see how from your little beating legs gush springs, beads that rise from all the pores of your body, you are immersed in a bathroom phosphorescent and vibrating ankles whistling rapids of seltzer, sparkling wines, sparkling fins, mineral feathers, flying fish wings, the flys that the beautiful and young Greek god Mercury wears on his ankles. The full moon shines with the footprint of Armstrong’s sole, but I was most moved by the news of the evening newspaper, a 68-year-old medical herb picker dozed off on a flowering meadow and was sucked into a lawn mower and her corpse escaped from the car along with the medicinal herbs and hay beyond recognition.
Along the belt of the streets I return to the origin of going, the revealing splendor of animal experiences wishes pools full of children to thirsty cities. Your myosotide eye broken by a sliver of Modra majolica now understands my cold gaze, rightly follow how the knife of my imagination pushes back to the sources of things. The last stream is sucked into the small river with the last drop, the last river is sucked into the ocean sea with the last clear cloud evaporating in the blue skies. I see how you follow this ascending fall with me, I see that not a single phase of this striptease has escaped you. Apparently I follow the memory of your white silk dress embroidered with gold, on the wrist the sleeve was decorated with slits for my desire, two hollow folds of cream yellow cashmere, but I follow all the more quickly as the pure source and the divine Needle they go towards spring and you smile at me when you see how I take handfuls full of creative clay in my hands and smelling the earth I smell you too. Meanwhile I feel only in my brain the screeching of your sweet limbs, the skin you have adorned with tender cracks, you are transported by the coordinates of cigarette smoke, Climb high like the bubbles of seltzer, the trees and flowers describe circumferences, an apple falls from the melo, already with the apples in the seed, the last ruins of the evening slip silently into the soft dust, but in the meantime I like the excesses and extravagances of the songs with poetry in the newspapers.
Graceful comes in the wave of the evening a lonely throb of a star. Gradually a light cloud the pupil closes them smiling; and as she passes with veils and feathers, in the great blue tremulous sparks they are born in swarms, they are born in garlands, are born in a hundred, are born in a thousand: but I don’t see you anymore, my star. Liable illusion How many anxieties you neglect. I woke up. Beyond the intoxicating essence of your insidious substance Vast expanses of multicolored black poppies They linger mischievous Willing to stem severely every unwary dream. Cleverly designed they will refute the insolent lie to which you are prone Allocating your vain shy escape to an inevitable departure. We cannot evade An intimate truth. Along the way we meet as graceful souls. Sensitive fairies. You covet butterflies and you love days sitting together.


There are those days when you no longer understand anything, what up to a second before gave you happiness, makes you nervous, that thing that gave you suffering, becomes pathetic. In a few moments, everything loses sense and you feel like in a bubble, enclosed with your apathy, while the world around you goes on. Maybe some individual expresses perplexity, almost anger towards you, wondering and wondering, the why of all this … But you can’t answer yourself, let alone them and then you stay inside, waiting for the arrival of something or someone who instead of continuing to soap you, it will be able to burst your barrier and make you feel alive, again.
During these two years of imprisonment I have clung to words and promises that very often people make based on the circumstances, the moments of darkness. When this life returns to “normal” these words will have vanished, forgotten, because supported by a general illusion of being able to be better than what we really are. We are human. We need comfort and a foothold in our worst days. As soon as we get better we will behave exactly as we have always behaved. There is a pre-pandemic and a post-pandemic. The present we are experiencing is just a parenthesis that contains everything we would like to be but that our pride and our selfishness will extinguish as soon as possible.
I miss walking. Yes. Walking through alleys, villages, woods. Walking in search of things that I do not know and have never seen, of faces. Walk meeting faces. I smile many times at the people I meet and don’t know. Smiles come back to me. I’ve always done it, I do it on purpose. With the mask I will have to make my eyes smile more evidently. I will have to learn to collect returns quickly, so as not to lose them. Because the eyes change quickly,
faster than the mouth. I often think lately about my life a few years ago with all those dark moments. Especially shortly before leaving I had reached the point that I always tried to escape the eyes of others, I did not speak, I did not respond to provocations, as soon as I got out of the bus I hid in the gardens, I took the longest roads, those where no one passed but a few dogs with the master. Obviously not everyone judged me but I saw it like this after the sad judgments of some and imagined living in a giant plastic bubble where I could see the world and roll like a hamster and others saw me blurred or even better. they ignored me. It’s a lot of fun that I only got out of it by stepping forward instead, putting myself on the stage in bright colors without thinking about anything but who I loved. Perhaps I should understand this even now that I live more peacefully than avoiding exposure takes away both ugly and beautiful things equally.


Disney is continuing the path it started a few years ago, stop creating little princesses who embody the idea of ​​perfection and go to themes that concern us all and that are not easy to insert in a cartoon such as: loneliness, anxiety, death, pressure from the external environment. I believe that with the cartoon in question, Encanto, Disney has really achieved this goal, after "Frozen 2" in which Anna finds herself alone after the "disappearance" of Elsa and Olaf and finds the courage and strength to move forward. and to continue to fight for life taking one step at a time, and after "Raja and the last dragon" in which "death" is a real thread of the entire plot, where each character continues to live hoping for a miracle that brings everyone back to life but especially loved ones. Here in Encanto it is precisely to make it clear that the perfect princess does not exist, that no one is perfect even if apparently it might seem so, that each of us has a weight inside that carries around and perhaps does not tell anyone, so as not to to make anyone worry, to make everyone proud of how externally perfect he looks. Why am I saying this ?! Because both the plot and the songs bring out this aspect.


Because in such a hurry to grow up and not realize the beauty of being children. The beauty of hearing someone tell you a fairy tale to make you fall asleep by running your fingers through your hair. The beauty of holding a puppet to yourself as if it were something so precious. The beauty of loving and loving without filters, without ulterior motives, just because that person is in your little heart, without getting too many problems. The beauty of seeing your dad as a hero and your mom as a princess. The naivety inside the eyes of a child who looks at you without anger, without hatred, without rancor, but with all the love in his body. The beauty of the laughter of a child who feels it comes from the heart. The beauty of the faith of a child who firmly believes in what he believes in, without asking himself why, why it is just like that. So much beauty and wanting to leave it so soon …
There are things to say to our children.
Such as that bankruptcy is a great possibility. You fall back and get up. From this we learn. Not from anything else.
We should tell sons that if they cry, they are not sissies. To females who can play wrestling or make faces without being tomboys.
We should say that boredom is good time in itself. That there are scary thoughts, and not to worry.
We should say that you can die, but that there is magic.
We should tell our children that the wedding day is not the best in life. That there are days yes, and days no. And they all have the same value.
That you have to know how to stay, and that's it. And that the pain is overcome.
We should tell our sons that they are not Blue Princes and that they must not save anyone. To the females that no one saves them, if not themselves. Otherwise women will continue to die and men to kill.
We should tell our children that there is time until it ends, and we always realize it too late.
We should say that there are neither losers nor losers, and life is not a struggle.
We should say that evil exists and is within each of us. We need to know it to manage it.
We should tell children that a father and mother are not always a safe haven. Some headlights fail to shed light.
That without others we are nothing. Just nothing.
That they can feel bad. Suffering pushes us forward. And sooner or later it passes.
We should tell our children that they may not be successful and still be happy. Indeed, perhaps, they will be more so.
It does not matter if the wishes are not fulfilled, but the important thing is to desire. Until the end.
They must be told that if they don't get married or have children in life, they can still be happy.
That the world needs their commitment to become a beautiful place to stop.
That poverty exists and we must take charge of it.
That can be whatever they want. But not at all costs.
That there is forgiveness. And you can give in every now and then, to proceed together.
We should tell our children that they can go far. Far away. Where we don't see them anymore.
And that we will be here. When they want to come back.
How many times during these holidays have I been asked, by people more or less unknown, if I like children? The fact that I am over 30 and that I have no offspring obviously arouses suspicion. What do I do with the children? Do I eat them? Or, even worse, do I hate them?
Don't worry, I'm on a diet. But this "do you like kids?" it never fails to make me deeply thrilled. Let's think about it for a second. Certain questions are quite common: "Do you like skiing?" "Do you like Sushi?" "Do you like the Caribbean?". A person can give any answer to these questions. Yet no one dreams of asking you: "Do you like adults?" They don't ask you because the question doesn't make sense: there are insufferable adults and very agreeable adults. Yet, to the same people it seems legitimate to compare infants to raw fish, almost as if children were a category without facets and totally flattened in a pachydermic "ueeeeee".
So I have to reply that yes, I like children very much and that I would like to adopt many of them but that if you don't have enough money then it is better not to take this step. I believe that raising children is a wonderful thing but also a huge responsibility and so since I have both a heart and a brain, then I prefer to wait. Thing? Better times perhaps, or a spell, a lottery win, a gift from someone, ... because love and a home are not enough to make children live well. Children have many needs and needs and whoever does not think about this means that they do not know children. I would like so many to fill my house, as Josephibe March did when he created his home for abandoned children. I understand why she did not want a child only hers but wanted to save many, I understand why when a woman has such a big heart then she cannot be satisfied with giving it only to a child but she wants to give it to many children. his love. I am like that.


Do you prefer warm or cold places? How do you defend yourself from the scorching heat? How do you defend yourself from the freezing cold?
There are countries where many people live in the desert with very high temperatures. Other peoples living in countries where temperatures got far below freezing.
Have you been prepared for this year's scorching heat? The North now seems as hot as the South and the South looks like an African desert.
Have we European peoples been prepared to defend ourselves from temperatures we were not used to? Staying with the air conditioner always on or the stove always on is not a solution.
Desert peoples don't use air conditioners. The peoples of the Arctic have no stoves.
But we civilized have not been used to this way of life and therefore the heat and cold cause many deaths every year. We can read some data that nobody ever talks about:
"Worldwide, for every death from heat there are 17 from cold. These numbers vary from country to country. In the United States, about 9,000 people died in 2015 from heat but 191,000 deaths can be attributed to cold. as for Italy, deaths from heat are about 10,000, against 57,600 from cold. "
Therefore human beings on this planet have an invisible enemy against which they often have no solution: the great heat or the great cold.
Our cities are built to produce more heat in summer and colder in winter. Not everyone has insulated houses. Not everyone can afford air conditioners. So a lot of civilization and technology, what is the use if there continue to be deaths due to the climate.


The fundamental problem of humanity for 2000 years has remained the same .. love each other. Only now it has become more urgent, much more urgent, and when we hear again today that we must love each other, we know we don’t have much time left now. We always love too little and too late. Let us hurry to love. Because at the sunset of life we ​​will be judged on love. Because there is no wasted love, and because there is no greater emotion than feeling when we are in love that our life totally depends on another person, that we are not enough for ourselves. And because all things, but also inanimate ones, such as mountains, seas, roads, but more, more, the sky, the wind, more, the stars, more, the cities, the rivers, the stones, buildings, all these things which in themselves are empty, indifferent. Suddenly when we look at them they are charged with human meaning and fascinate us, move us, why? .. Because they contain a presentiment of love, even inanimate things, because the planking of all creation is love and because love matches the meaning of all things. Happiness, yes, happiness, speaking of happiness, look for it, every day, continuously, indeed anyone who listens to me now is looking for happiness now, in this moment because it is there, you have it, we have it , because they gave it to all of us. They gave it to us as a gift when we were little, they gave it to us as a dowry, and it was such a beautiful gift that we hid it, like dogs with bones do when they hide it, and many of us do. they hid it so well they don’t know where they put it, but we have it. You have it, look in all the closets, the shelves, the compartments of your soul, throw everything away, the drawers and the bedside tables that you have inside and see that it comes out, there is happiness, try to turn around suddenly you might catch her by surprise but she is there, we must always think about happiness, and even if she sometimes forgets us, we must never forget her. Until the last day of our life, and we must not be afraid even of death, look that it is more risky to be born than to die eh .. we must not be afraid of dying, but never begin to really live, jump into existence now, here.


Several scientific studies have shown that during pet therapy sessions, anxiety is reduced, blood pressure, blood sugar and heart rate are lowered and, subsequently, levels of cortisol and endorphins, hormones of well-being, increase.
It doesn't happen overnight: pet therapy takes time and can be a long process. There are many professionals involved: educators, veterinarians but also family doctors or pediatricians, specialists, carers and social workers who work and collaborate with each other so that thanks to the four-legged friends there are surprising positive effects on the health or even on the psyche of the patients.
Dogs and cats, but also horses and other farm animals: pet therapy works to keep alive the contact with nature and the exchange with another living being enriching the person in many aspects: reinforcing the ability to stay in the present and to be open to the outside, recovering or discovering one's instinct, developing sharing and respect for the needs of others, helping to overcome traumas and fears, improving self-knowledge.
Who are the people who most of all can benefit from it? Certainly the elderly and people with physical or mental handicaps. In the elderly, especially for those who live in retirement homes or suffer a lot from loneliness, contact with animals helps to regain serenity and joy. Patients with Alzheimer's and other types of dementia with an hour and a half a week in the company of animals seem to report a decrease in restlessness, insomnia, and even falls. In autistic people, pet therapy has been shown to be important in improving social and behavioral function. Thanks to the emotional, psychological and supportive support for motor rehabilitation, animal-assisted therapy has also proved useful in cases of hospitalization, when hospital stays are very long. With the presence of an animal, an improvement in the recovery and rehabilitation skills of the sick person is ascertained. Not to mention the most precious gift that animals can offer to patients, especially the little ones: a smile and play.
The "curative" value of animals was already observed in ancient times: they were even attributed supernatural powers and it was the father of medicine, Hippocrates, who recommended what we now call hippotherapy as a remedy for insomnia and stress. As doctors have paid more attention to the psychological aspects of diseases such as cancer and chronic ailments, pet care has also made a comeback.
In the oncology field, there has been an increase in Italian hospitals that experimentally admit animals as a supplement to normal care. The main objective is to alleviate the physical and psychological suffering of patients to allow them to better deal with both hospitalization and therapies. The relationship between the patient and the animal aims to restore self-esteem, safety, relational capacity to the patient and in many cases allows to regain psychological and motor skills lost due to suffering. I hope that among you there is someone who works in hospitals and who can perhaps bring this idea because it is really useful.


How can anarchy be controlled? The primordial flow where the reason is lost. Where many fall few have really tried. It is not science, nor speculation, it is from the heart that everyone can be right. It is never too late to say otherwise, it is the fruit of the past, it is just a sunk cost. So don’t wait for disaster, question yourself, find out who you are and then that’s the direction.
Do not look in the dark, it hides nothing, the means and resources are in the open, just find them. And let’s stop with the pity, it’s never too late to “start over”.
We need to remove the heavy burdens and embark on the journey, the road is long so it is inevitable not to lose sight of the goal. Let’s forget about the ego, it is a mirror that alters perception, a crazy mechanism that makes us go wrong.
The true Self is within us, we leave the healing power to ourselves, we are powerful tools of will and persuasion. And if it is true that Thought always dominates, it is really time to teach it and start dreaming, laughing and playing.
At a certain point, changing your lifestyle is a choice, an obligation and a duty. Revolutionize to believe, conquer your orbit and start spinning. Harmony belongs to the Universe and there is no real center, the trick is in balance, we are potentially all in the winner’s chariot. The true Rebel defeats the old Self, only to be reborn and blossom like a flower.
It’s nice to bloom in winter,
brave the cold and show the warm love of the heart.
Challenge indifference.
They trample me but I, out of spite,
continue to flourish.
I will have to wither,
fall and uproot myself but I am not afraid of dying.
I stay strong in a bed of snowdrops, brave the frost,
I get up like a flower that blooms again.
Don’t hurry,
the fire has consumed me
and my years are of ashes
but I knew that a white star would appear for me too.
And this trail of light inside my forest
I carry with me and
so I bloom inside the thorns,
I bloom in the dark,
I bloom even in the most hostile place
and remain in the light.


Some time ago, at the entrance of a gym, you could see a sign with a photo of a girl with a spectacular physique where it was written "This summer, do you want to be a mermaid or a whale?" It is said that a woman, whose physical appearance is unknown, answered the following question: "Dear Sirs, whales are always surrounded by friends (Dolphins, seals, curious humans), have a very active sex life and breed their children with a lot of tenderness. They have fun like crazy with the dolphins and eat shrimp until they drink. They swim all day and travel to fantastic places like Patagonia, the sea of ​​barens or the coral reefs of Polynesia. They sing incredibly well and sometimes you go so far as to make a cd. They are impressive and much loved animals, which everyone defends and admires. Mermaids do not exist. But if they did exist, would they queue up to consult a psychologist because of a double personality problem, woman or fish? They wouldn't have a sex life and couldn't have children. They would be beautiful, sure, but lonely and sad. Besides, who would want a girl who smells of fish by his side? Without a doubt, I prefer to be a whale. "


I’ve always been honest. Here is my problem. I don’t pretend. If I can’t stand you I’ll tell you, if you don’t respect me I don’t respect you, if I don’t want you near I will push you away. I’m not pretending, print it on your head. I don’t pretend a love that doesn’t exist, I don’t pretend to smile if I don’t like seeing you, I don’t pretend to have esteem for you if you make me sick as a person, you could even be 100 years old, nothing would change. Because I behave as I want to behave, as I feel I have to behave and not as “the rules” impose. This is my problem: I’m different from you and you just can’t stand this. My sincerity scared you, scared you that I’m real. Who I am will always screw me up and I am aware of it, yet you have to know one thing: better a hundred years of solitude than a single day in your company. When I saw that you were not sincere, that your play was only to exploit me, to draw on my resources, then I could no longer tolerate what you did to me. You are no longer a fixed thought as before, but sometimes my attention falls on you, for various reasons, but in any case I categorically avoid getting close to you, I no longer miss you as I once did, I’m fine without you, I no longer hurt myself, I have learned to be enough for a while now, I have learned to turn around and not find you, I have gradually got used to your absence, until it has become almost irrelevant, almost no longer felt, only in some fragments of time, I happen to feel your absence on my skin, but even this time it is no longer the same, I think about you, I think about you, about what we could have been but then, my attention turns away from it and I think that those who want you keep you, that those who love you stay, those who repent come back, that if only you had wanted with the same intensity with which I wanted, we could have been so damn happy, but it didn’t happen, and it goes well. I feel lighter now without you, I feel myself, I feel I don’t have to deprive myself of my life, and it’s fabulous, but above all I feel that I am in harmony with myself, I have developed self-love. don’t come back, don’t, not yet, not again. do not destroy everything I have created. go away. get out of me and my life for good. I’m sorry I don’t care, but I learned from you.

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