I had a panic attack on Friday. They hadn't come to visit me for a while, overbearing and unexpected.. and it showed.. but above all we heard everything! it was hard to handle, heavy to bear with the aftermath I've been dragging around all day. the tiredness that left me was disarming. And I'm not just referring to physics.
I took it "easy" by staying home for two days from work and now I have to go back.. a little scared, I admit it! what if it happens again? What if I didn't -again- have the strength to control it, and control myself?
I feel a considerable load of stress on me that I cannot relieve. I would like to turn off my brain for a while and escape responsibilities, duties. go back to breathing deeply, have clear ideas about who I am, how much I'm worth, what I want from life but I don't know where to start!
I need a moment of time..


The heart of feelings,
far down there.
Fish catch it as a ready-made bait for them.
In a vacuum of thought the aquatic currents collide.
And me?
I'm heavily overwhelmed,
I don't let go,
I have no destination, I look at the horizon, I wander in my spring.
Lightness must be pulled out, fished out, with a thicker net.
An imaginary of particular gestures that cannot be seen.
I look at the sea, I belong to the water that deforms me, transforms me into an earthly being.



Today it's very hot here and I took the opportunity to transfer some red calla lilies they gave me for Women's Day, even though I didn't want to celebrate this holiday because many women are killed here in Italy and there is nothing to celebrate in my opinion.
I already had one of white calla lilies but they had dried out and are recovering now.
I really like calla lilies but I've only discovered now that they are indoor and not outdoor plants, at least this type.
And I didn't know, in fact I had put the white ones on the outside.
Unfortunately I have not been able to put them in my garden because my lively dogs dig the ground and uproot all the plants.
I really like gardening when there are these beautiful days. 


I spent days locked up at home with a fever and a cough. I looked out the window, I looked at Nature, I imagined that those men who cut down trees and those who kill animals didn't exist. I imagined a world without humans and this idea was so strange.
The music was with me, my cats, the sun, the moon, the wind and everything took me far away and I'm human and I'm more.

Today I just studied, read, cooked, washed the dishes, and argued all day with a micro fairy who hid my printer paper or maybe it's me who leaves it around and can't find it. However I'm still weak because the fever lasted too long and now I have allergic asthma and can't breathe. I can't breathe in this world where all the trees are being cut down and where the annoying animals disappear into thin air. I sneeze and cough. I no longer burn and I no longer dare. Sometimes I tell something about myself because maybe it can remain a memory or a sign of me, of what I was, of that Hamlet who lost her days and her life here among these pages with you. That Hamlet who now has little inspiration and paints little and cuddles her cats and eats puddings.



We are born as candles, stones of different natures,
we are born without ever becoming real,
we hide inside full sail, clipped wings,
we are like the spirits of the wind who listen for a sound.
We follow different paths, adverse, inexplicable conditions.
We are opposites like seas with the same color.
We always become different whenever we show warmth.
When we feel something we die in deep blue and then we return to the world.
Same universe as before.
Same nuance.
We can move a flower.
Break a curtain.
Put out a flame and sleep through the night.
We are inside a secret mechanism and we delete everything about us when we don't exist.

I once said I'd never go back,
and that ship that left a trail of memories was the world before.
But there is no after world, there is no after.
Boxes inside other boxes open, dimensions that you find within yourself.
Some see nothing of every passing ship.
All black feathers create a raven but the raven is not those black feathers.
There are many reasons for disappearing and the sun leaves its shadow on the plants every day.
We stop here for a moment,
we talk, we listen but nobody really understands.
It is a thin, moist fire, a fire of blue stars.
Peace to all who see smiles and see flowers.


If you live there, please tell me if it’s real what we see in this video.

I’m very upset watching people staying in this way. It’s very very sad.

What’s happening there?


i spend my days waiting. waiting for the water to boil and my tea to be ready. for spring to come back. for more daylight. the oil in the pan to heat up. a “hey i miss you” or “can you help me out for a second?” or “you want to hang out?” text. for my phone to finish charging. for good news. flowers on the table. the next hug. “hey, you got the job!”. waiting for the sun. to set. to rise. to see both. for summer to be around the corner. a good song. a falling star. a text back. i spend my time waiting to be remembered. i spend my time repeating that tomorrow will be better. tomorrow will be better. i spend my days waiting and waiting and waiting. i spend my days waiting unbearably.

I tell you a mystery: It has been appointed to those who are born twice to die once, but by no means shall they die a second time. Yet those who do not come to Me in repentance shall be born once and die twice. Yet there are some among this generation who shall never taste death, having already passed from judgment into life. Thus to My chosen elect, there is a death of the body unto resurrection. Yet for those still living at My return, there is a death of another kind – the crucifying of your old man with his sinful ways, the putting on of the new man who is renewed in the knowledge of the Truth, restored in the image of Him who created him. Thus when one is born into this world, the child and the mother suffer the pangs of childbirth, until the birth is complete. In the same way, those born of the Spirit shall suffer travail. For they are not yet separated from their flesh or this world, in which they continually stumble.

That eye contact be like gazing into the depths of your soul like I am on the precipice of the void and I am about to fall in.. earth shattering heartbeats, don’t break the gaze. You have the most beautiful eyes, I find that I could look into them for days.. it’s as if our souls are touching intimately, through the looking glass as if we were looking into the future and the past. It’s the craziest feeling looking directly into another soul, I see you, you see me, bared and scared, at any second I could run away..


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