OPEN DOOR

I smell the stench of your darkness, your perverse looks, your bloody long tongues and your sharp claws that tear the light. You are worms that crawl to eat the soil you have beneath you. Humanity has nothing good and only a facade to get something in return. The true human soul is made up only of darkness that envelops the entire planet. I see empty people with no will to live. People who lose days of life without wondering why they die inside. Inside they have monsters that devour them and as soon as someone approaches they tear them apart to rob their soul. Life is a continuous devouring each other without even anyone noticing. We are beasts that devour everything and everyone in order to survive. A battle all in our heads that is amplified in the world.
A stain contrasts with your whiteness. It is black, black bewilderment, black disgust. Some would barely notice it, others would not consider it at all. I, on the other hand, can’t see anything else. It is there in the center of my gaze, I try to eliminate it but I cannot because it is sticky, it has stuck to you. I have dirtied you, defaced you, I scarred you. You, so beautiful, so innocent … How can I still look at you the same way? How am I not going to think about that scene turning in my mind like a restless beast? How will I still feel your hands, your body? It happened a while ago, but for me it’s like it was today. The disgust makes me tremble, the disappointment makes me close my eyes. Maybe it doesn’t matter to you, it was just to try, a game, nonsense … Nothing to do, these excuses don’t work. I try to keep an open mind usually, tolerant, understanding. This time, however, after she heard you speak, she curled up on herself, like a piece of paper that burns and slowly chars. I just want to curl up and forget everything, and then open my eyes and find it was just a dream. Because this memory is so strong, because the disgust is so intense, because … I am cold inside and you are in sleep and you are still dreaming about that day.
He looks at her with the eyes of love. And she doesn’t see, she doesn’t understand that she doesn’t make sense, she doesn’t have a purpose, a dream, an aspiration, nothing. Nothing is what you hear. No past, heartbeats, breaths, monotony, do what you have to, make them happy. The look that from time to time rests on what is “normal” but which for her becomes more and more distant, unattainable, almost inconceivable. The present is no longer anything, the warmth, the beauty, the sweet scents have arrived. But nothing always remains her, so eager to resemble her childish fantasies, so hopeful and yet so dry and dumb, cold and empty. The desert doesn’t want flowers, does it? It makes them thirsty during the day, cold at night. The desert welcomes passing guests, but then lashes them with its storms and hurries to erase their footsteps. He doesn’t want anyone, the desert. Or maybe yes, but he doesn’t even know how to manage himself. Hot, then cold, storms, comatose calm. He is furious with himself, he is disillusioned. He thinks that he will not make it, when he has to spread his wings and fly, he will realize that they are made of paper, so thin as to be transparent. He will realize that the imagination is just smoke. And it will fall into the void.

NOBODY KNOWS

First the shyness, being a kind of ornament, cute, harmless, useful, immersed in my parallel world, in which only my vision of things was true. A world in which I could not be disappointed. Nobody would hurt me, I was a totally self-sufficient being, satisfied with the little things, independent of people because it was like that, it had to be like that. The study on friendship, my beliefs on reality. Then the awareness, realizing that my strength was my weakness, had created a void, made up of forced friendships, of people ignored. I realized that I had built an image that hid the real me from anyone, everything I was in addition to a studio machine or a perfect daughter. Maybe I was still nothing beyond that, and I wasn’t hiding anything, I simply hadn’t given space to everything I thought was “surrounding”. I tried to recover. In part, I grew up, I opened myself to others, to those who were willing to listen to me, now that I was willing to build something.
We continually seek the company of others, in fact we are not able to be alone with silence. In the silence our fears, our anxieties, and our truest self emerge, which we nevertheless repudiate as if it were the most disgusting substance. I don’t know if the hatred we feel towards ourselves is something we have learned or that is innate in us, but it persists despite everything, indeed, whoever claims to love himself the most is the one who hates himself the most. Narcissists cannot listen to silence, as they have learned to ignore it. The less fortunate learn to hate each other without knowing the reasons, while some have to live with their own suffering in continually admitting the existence in themselves of dark places that are unbearable for everyone. The existence of man is a continuous escape from his own essence, since we are born without the means to contain our fullness.
I can’t define my state of mind. It’s strange. It is as if I were totally normal, but at the same time I couldn’t help but think about this situation, which is both uncomfortable and fascinating at the same time. I lose my eyes in the void, even if to others it does not seem that it is distracting me. Or maybe I hope they don’t understand. I look at myself from the outside to try to understand something, but I don’t even know where I want to go, if I want to go all the way, or if it’s all an illusion, and what I’m thinking makes no sense. It probably is, although you find people here and there confirming that they are reality, these thoughts will remain imagination.

PIERCED

The first thing you do when you awake, everybody come, you’ll turn on the phone in your hand. You’re addicted ok, but we’re not here to judge. The problem isn’t addiction, the problem is what you ingest. In fact: the first thing that my, and yours, brain registers are the news. The first input I give him in the morning, the first food, are: deaths, rape, tragedies, environmental disasters, mafia, corruption etc. Not that it is forbidden, but it takes the bestial physico to withstand this impact with the world. Cravings, panic, oppression, ignition clicking sound on the door and fears of cockroach sound. They sneak into the darkness of the unconscious and settle there, then they come out unexpectedly when I decided not to travel because I can jump in the air, say don’t let your child play in the park they kidnap him or not to eat at food because there is it is some deadly disease that can infect you.
It’s just that divergent minds appeal to me. Only those who have a totally independent thought. Not necessarily the revolutionaries, the anarchists (many of them I find as trivial as all the others), I speak of those who think things that no one else would ever think, not even me. But when I hear their thoughts, whether I share them or not, I am fascinated, terribly. Because those are minds that really think. The fact is that, beyond these minds, everything else disappears for me, I can’t convey anything. Yet I try, to try something, and I delude myself to succeed. Then, when I listen to those minds, I return to reality, and I understand what I really need. I would like my social life, practically non-existent at the moment, to be this: the search for divergent minds.
Inside his body, he thought, there must be a little saboteur homunculus who did not speak with the voice of conscience, but pulled the strings of old fears, making him say the most inappropriate things and do the most reckless things. He felt like a child in a frantic search for approval: so eager to please and to be told “good” that in the heat he stopped thinking, acted according to the impulse of others and prepared the ground for self-destruction. He was so used to doing the wrong things that even when he did the right things he swerved abruptly, changing floors at the last second, not knowing that he had chosen the path to the ravine instead of the field of flowers.

 

GREEN LOVE

Never get married as a lover. If you are in love, do not get married because in falling in love there is no sense of reality. Only when you have realized that next to you there is a wretch, a child or a neurasthenic, a hysteric, only when his defects are no longer funny, but hateful, then you will really love him. You have to know how to fight, know how to have different ideas and instead many live by making a living, swallowing toads. Relational well-being cannot decide on everything, because if not, the risk is that we proceed out of hypocrisy, that is to go ahead repressing what are our own truths. In fact, many live trying to avoid the defects of the other: I know that there are some things that I cannot say so that in front of a defect of the other I am in apnea waiting for it to pass and for one of its qualities to re-emerge. True love is that which knows no conditions, it is that which starts from attraction, passes through affinity and arrives at the intuition that there is something indissoluble between you. We all have this intuition and it is necessary to have it both. You don’t come to marriage to have an indissoluble relationship, but to put a seal on what you feel between yourselves as indissoluble.
And do you know what leads us to love in a certain way and not in another? The pain we felt, that’s right. The times we felt invisible, the words that pierced us, the abandonments we suffered, the goodbyes we inevitably found ourselves saying, the deaths we had to witness, the insecurities we carry inside from time immemorial. So you see? How can you think that one wound can look like another? That we all have the same pain threshold? All that can be said about love is that vhi really loves does not enjoy spreading the edges of our wounds, does not wallow in it, does not cling to it. The rest, all the rest, is another story.
I sit on the wall, squeeze my legs and look at my knees, to see some peeling, some bruising … Nothing. The ugly thing about broken hearts is this: that you can’t throw hydrogen peroxide on them and blow them while the bubbles walk on the wound, that you can only hold onto the pieces. And there are no operations and there are no medicines that can put them back together, you have to keep your heart broken like this. Maybe that’s good. Nobody deserves my frailty. It would be too easy to see a person who is always strong and smiling, but when the demons come out and there you really understand who you are in front of. I will continue to fight alone. It hurts to show yourself to others. It’s not worth it.
I believe that the human being has animal behaviors, but also plant ones. The animal has cells that heal and close its wounds. However, if you cut a branch it does not grow again: a plant wound is definitive and the only thing we can do is cover it. This is why we find trees with cavities, inside which fungi are born that feed the trunk. In this sense, our heart behaves like vegetables. If you hurt it it doesn’t heal, and the wound stays open. What could happen is that new experiences cover that same wound with life

NATURALIST

I am face to face with myself, how long it hadn’t happened, I had almost forgotten how it felt, listening to the silence, reflecting on one’s life, on the changes and transformations it holds for us. Many times I found myself being with me, and it never scared me like now, perhaps because I’m no longer used to it. And I wondered why something inside me had taken over, so strong that it made me lose air and cause sudden tachycardias wherever I was. Anyone who has a character similar to mine can understand me well when I talk about having become a sort of time bomb, whatever happens outside of me, I care, perhaps even more than I should, so much that I can’t say “no” to no one, so much as to cause me inner discomfort, so much so that I forget about myself, my time, my habits and become a sort of automaton that performs tasks for no purpose. A bomb that just inserted does not cause any damage and that explodes when you least expect it, making a clean sweep around itself and annihilating all fear. There comes a time when you have to say enough and take back who you are, the time comes to ask for help and to throw out all the poison, the time comes to control your “I”, to listen to it and rock it. The time comes to bring out yourself, to do it alone, while keeping the people who matter to you next to you and remain by your side despite everything, because who more than me deserves to feel good? Nobody. Without a “me”, there is no “we”, without a “me” there are no friends, without a “me” there is nothing. We are like lego constructions, we compose and break down as we see fit, we are able to disintegrate and reattach piece by piece to build the tallest skyscraper in existence, we are able to change pieces, multitudes, colors, we are able to great things, but only if we want them. I finish by making a wish to me and to all the people who, like me, are finding themselves: Always be yourself, face the changes that life has in store for you, transform yourself, take time out for yourself, listen to yourself, but never forget who you are and what you are able to do.
Fight for what you believe, especially when you believe it less because it is from there that you find the strength to go further and to know yourself, have the courage not to wallow in pain but to always find solutions despite that because it is NOT everything, life is full of crazy things and we often forget it because we tend not to live in the present, but we remain attached to the past, let it go! Believe that everything does not happen by chance and that the universe presents you with everything to make you evolve, you are in the process and above all everything is temporary! Be the first to be responsible for your mood and your actions, let’s stop blaming others and start taking our responsibilities where it is needed because the rest will then reveal itself. Have the courage to believe, you are much more than you think and never forget your potential or every little thing that can change your day because it is a step that every day will get bigger and bigger and one day you will turn around thanking you for have done so and you will truly live with love for yourself. Always love each other.
I have always had a good relationship with nature. Since I was a child, thanks to my parents, I have always had a great admiration for everything related to her. As a child I never believed in fairies or all that stuff, but I believed in the magic of the earth, of how a flower blooms … And I wasn’t bored, on the contrary I was fascinated by it. I have never endured the city, full of giants made of concrete; it put me, and it still puts me in depression. It’s like those giants are stealing my happiness. But it was over time that I understood: no one had told me about pollution, it was as if I had remained in a bubble, which did not let anything pass. But it was by changing school, to go to middle school that I opened my eyes. In elementary school, nobody talked to me about the impact of our actions on the environment. In middle school I also participated in environmental discoveries. And since then I have looked at nature with different, new eyes. And everywhere I looked, I saw garbage, pollution. I hate the fact that the sea, and beyond, is soiled by our stupidity. And the fish, but not only, suffer the consequences. Many people talk about it, but between words and deeds, there is an incompatible horizon. And what good is it, we dirty the sea and the fish without thinking that we will eat them … It’s incredible, we think we are very intelligent, but the truth is different. That’s right, people are the worst disease on this planet. But it is still not too late to save the Earth. Of course, only one can do nothing, it is the union that is strength. So let’s save nature for ourselves and for other living beings.

A LOOK AT THE SEA

Do not take anyone to see the sea, which is an important thing, it is not a trivial matter. Going with someone to see the sea is not like going to the bar, to see the shop windows in the square or to get an ice cream. It really is so much more. To look at the sea bring us someone who shares the silence with you, it is difficult to find it, but if you find it you have no escape. You see it as if you were in another world, a world where silence is enough to understand each other. A world of your own. Bring us someone you don’t have to talk to, because the sea is a silent film that surprises you for the colors, for the sensations it causes in your stomach and for the noises of the waves that make you feel in a balanced situation. But what really counts, of the sea, are the nuances. As with everything beautiful on the other hand. Bring us those who have been able to show you that you are worth much more than what you think, than what you would expect, someone who makes you a priority and not a pastime. That person who can hear your innermost tragedies, without thinking that they are trivial and irrelevant things. To see the sea bring us those who can understand you without speaking, who will pick you up if you go away, who gives you the opportunity to lean on his shoulder when you fall, who if looking into your eyes, incredibly notices a bit of the sea in you too. That person who, when he looks up to the sky, reads your name. Bring us someone just like that, who makes you feel chaos inside and a magical person outside, full of life. You will seem to see something amazing, shocking, fascinating and for the first time in your life it will seem like you are seeing the sea, because you have never seen it like this.
I leave you everything that I don’t need, that slows me down, that saddens me, that weighs me down. Everything that is too little, too tight, too warm, everything that creases me even if at times it softens me. I leave you some silver until you can completely heal that wound on my heart, and I also leave you a little bit of what I carry is silent in my heart. I leave you the disappointment and indifference with which you forced me to dress, I leave you the forced smiles, the tears in the dark timeless nights. I leave you a piece of me, another piece of life that once again taught me the value of life. I carry with me, the change, the enchantment, the wonder, the desire to surprise me again, the strength, the resilence, the sincere smiles, the full-mouthed laughter, the deep breaths that take your breath away, the becoming, discovering yourself every day, that hunger for life that never leaves me. That dream that I tied tightly to my finger. All the best in me.
Every now and then they ask me why I’m like this. They do not know that I have never had anyone who cared about making me feel good, that I always had to organize myself, be alone as a friend, as a confidant. I hate surprises because I’ve never had one, I’m afraid to let go because no one has been there to catch me, it’s always so damn obvious that I can solve everything by myself, I’m the one who’s always fine and if she’s not fine it will pass by itself. Learn to let go Get away from your own mind All those images That little by little they will become weak Let it flow on the face The tears that will be thrown into an ocean In which we will have to learn to swim Leave those shores behind Traveling to discover new lands And don’t hold back anything The heart will know how to keep what really matters The memories, the precious ones Able to make us survive And live Continue to grow, mature Blossom like tulips And learn to let go when the rainy days return And start again All over again.

ON THE ROAD

I want to travel. And do you know why? Because life is so much more beautiful when you see every nation in the world. Life is definitely more beautiful when you meet people other than you. And by different I mean another mentality, other cultures, other colors. Life changes you and becomes more beautiful when you book your plane ticket, when you get on the plane and leave, when you arrive in that city, when you arrive at the hotel, when you start to see something new. And nothing, life is even more beautiful if you travel.
It’s a time when I let go of a lot of things: people, situations, feelings … I learned to let go of what didn’t do for me, everything that hurt me. Sometimes you have to leave out certain situations because they are no longer part of us, you feel them extraneous, which are no longer yours. It is precisely at that moment that you choose to think about yourself and your happiness. last night I dreamed of a beautiful tree, with dark leaves at the top that faded downwards, they were shiny and moved in the wind, then in that wind I hear a voice hissing “look in the trees, this is the key”. the meaning is broad and intense but already very understandable. When someone lives by restraining himself, at a certain point something is triggered in him: An escape. A positive escape, because he finally escapes from too many requests and learns to say “no”. Run away from too many duties and start doing what he likes. Escape from too much perfectionism and learn to love yourself. Escape from the fear of never being up to it, of never being able to really live. Run away and look for himself, sometimes ending up finding himself.
If my energy doesn’t wake you I’m not for you, if my spirit doesn’t inspire you don’t force the connection, if my mind doesn’t make you think deeper, it makes no sense that you have me in your thoughts If my passion doesn’t move you then it will be better to change direction, if my presence does not help you to evolve my absence surely will, If my love doesn’t open your heart surely another love will, go and find what makes your being vibrate, don’t even stop to look back. One of the greatest acts of love is letting go, the vibration doesn’t lie. Trust your process.
You have only one chance, accept what you have lived and what you are experiencing, they will serve for everything you will live and in the end, you understand that the future is the best part. The present does not exist because, just by saying “now”, it has already passed and then you live the uncertainty that must make you smile, because it is a surprise and you have to go to meet it, like when as a child, you jumped out of bed and ran to go to unwrap christmas gifts. It takes an hour, a day or a night to find the sun, to find yourself and to understand that everything passes and that after a slap, life offers you a caress.
Move away from where the time is up Or stay, accompanied if you think you can’t get away but keep dreaming beyond that closed window Go through everything while you color the world with each step Stop interpreting, let yourself flow Avoid looking for the signifier, immerse yourself in the unknown Connect to fullness, it will replace any deficiency Love independently, intensely, hopelessly and then let it all slip through your fingers Don’t hold back, blow every whys away Don’t pretend, get confused Don’t lead, let yourself be carried away by the wind Don’t build houses, hologram bridges Don’t be satisfied with those who caress your heart Know what you deserve and not because it will be difficult to find but because it will allow itself to be reached. And allow yourself to fall in love with the possible, while the impossible will show you the way.

A LITTLE LIGHT, A LITTLE PLACE

You did not notice it immediately, you were carried away by events. And when you realized how much the current had turned your way, it was late. Maybe too much. Perhaps. Was it the desire to change? To see life from another perspective, to lose certainties and build new ones? By your choice you have taken this path alone, provoked by a force that you have not tested, if not theoretically. And now only a shell remains of you, of your feelings, of what you wanted to say and that you have kept inside. This time it went like this. Again. In the darkness in which you find yourself, thinking about your mistakes and your flaws, there is a fixed point. A light that has always been there: sometimes strong, sometimes intermittent, sometimes dazzling, strong enough to illuminate the darkest nights and guide you through them. You were foolish to take her for granted when she never abandoned you and has always been there. And you love her, more than anything else, so much so that her horizons are expanding beyond yours, where you won’t be able to follow her. Where you cannot be there. She will never take flight, not of her own free will. Have you been blessed by some higher entity stirring in the chaos of the universe, or have you been tested by fate? How can you find out? Going forward. Always with that Light, inside.
I insist on not detaching myself from roots and shoots, I fight to remain attached to what I am, to what generated me. But the wind pulls, time goes by and I am more and more fragile, devoured by an immense curiosity to see the world. Slowly I detach myself, the tree cradles me for a moment in his slender arms, gently, and then throw me upwards, higher and higher, until my ears are plugged with violence, and the pressure becomes feel. Flight and flight, towards the unknown, towards the fog, towards No Man’s Land. I fly on the crest of the air, as if the sea were pushing me, and doubts and paranoia take root, the fog scares me, the sea is stormy, the future still dark. I fly and get scared, I’m afraid. Home Nostalgia also decides to join the party, and a series of mixed feelings try to slow my journey. I’m about to give in, stop flying, start falling. Until all the dreams, the hopes, the projects come to mind. All this takes me by the shoulders, and takes me back to fly, as if I had big wings to carry me. I fly and fly, and I never stop. The future is bright, the fog almost dissolved. I smile at what awaits me, meanwhile I fly.
We never stick to the present tense. We anticipate the future as too slow to come, as if to hasten its course; or we remember the past to stop it as too fast; so imprudent that we err in times that are not ours, and we do not think at all about the only one that belongs to us, and so vain, that we reflect on those who are no longer nothing, and flee without reflecting that alone that exists. The fact is that the present usually hurts us. We hide it from our sight because it afflicts us; if, on the other hand, it is pleasant for us, we regret seeing him flee. We try to support it by means of the future, and we are concerned with disposing of the things that are not in our power, for a time which we are not at all sure of arriving at.
I’ve learned that people are more important than anything else. Which is not the beautiful place, but it is the people who make it so. That you are never really alone if you carry someone in your heart. I learned that distance breaks what cannot stand and unites even more what wants to hold hands. I understand that you can go anywhere, but the most beautiful journey is what you do inside yourself.

HOT LIKE THE SNOW

“Be the anomaly.
The aberration.
The error.
The inconvenience.
The diversity.
The indecipherable data.
Let them shake their uniformed heads while watching you.
Let them be ashamed of you.
Let them be embarrassed.
Let them get angry. They will insult you.
You let them do it.
Let them make fun of you.
Let them point you.
Let them laugh.
Resist their mockery.
Be their victim, their laughing stock.
Be a resounding failure in their eyes.
A tiger does not lose sleep by caring for what sheep think.
Go on.
Be the scar on their way of seeing things and their normality. They will hate you.
They will fear you. They will want to be like you ”.
Resilience is the strength of people who, despite being injured, consider themselves not victims but users of their own resources and are preparing to recover the resources necessary to face the future with planning hope. The word resilience (from the Latin resiliere, to bounce) in physics indicates the property of materials to return to their original shape after having suffered a blow. In sociology and psychology it highlights the human capacity to overcome the difficulties of life with elasticity, vitality, energy, ingenuity. Resilience is the ability to face risk factors, to get up after a crisis, stronger and more ingenious than before: it is the ability to overcome the injustices of life without succumbing.
Do you know what the truth is?
That people fight only for themselves.
Yet the best wars are those that are fought for others, because there is the strength of an ideal, pure, and not of interest.
No one fought for me. I never understood what it meant to be strong, until I was left alone and now that I’m fighting the world I don’t need a hand from anyone, because the best enemy is someone I trust, but he will be the first to hit me from behind . So I realized being strong alone is the only solution.
The studies I have done
they will make you believe
that are all the grades taken at school,
I am the exam given
the debt to mathematics, the outdated thesis,
you will think I am the degree title
completed
the friends I've had
three little freedoms of my childhood
they'll make you think they know
where i come from, what have i done,
the fatal mistakes that I carry with me
and what rebellions
my ideal is composed
the car I drive
the clothes I choose
the premises in which I enter,
you will think they are excellent clues
to get to intuit
who I am
you will believe
that I am the flaws of my zodiac sign,
that besides the cheekbones, it also has all the qualities of my mother,
and that I think it
like the music I listen to
when heartbroken
I practice solitude in the bedroom
but what you glimpse of me
it is homeopathy of my experience
is a distillation of your imagination,
a tiny span of my infinity
served on the table of your little judgment
I am
everything
that you still can't see.

RED ROSE ON THE GROUND

To stay in a cage you get the habit You say it’s just for the beginning When you know it stand in the middle of the precipice. I saw it, yes, that glare was blinding almost fulminate, I liked it from the beginning, I carry myself high up on a precipice but without any benefit. For some time now I faltered with clamor for love, a blow to my heart took me, I fell to the ground, I was amazed, amazed, I loved the pain and observed it with ardor. I fight for myself and not for a spectator. By now I got used to it, growing up I became strong, I don’t even feel the bruises. Like a flower grown on the edge of a precipice, I learned to live with vertigo.
… how do you fall in love? Do you fall? Do you trip, lose your balance and fall on the sidewalk, peeling your knee, peeling your heart? Do you crash on the ground, on the stones? Or is it like hanging over the edge of the precipice forever? How much are you willing to burn your time? How willing are you to hurt yourself? How many steps are you willing to climb, Being sure of falling? I tremble. I tremble and can’t stop. My hands, my voice, my heart tremble. I feel like there is an earthquake inside me that destroys all the steps that I have struggled to build. I’m breaking myself, but it’s weird. It’s strange because no one notices it. It’s weird because I didn’t think I’d ever get to this point. Love me, sweet poison, render your effect but take away the sweetness of your murder, strike fast, be quick as the violent splinters of a storm, but don’t just scratch me, dip me in my deep red blood but don’t let me drown in my bitterness because slower and more painful death would be to have thought of you and to hate you on the day of my end. Like when the lips touch before a kiss How to open your mouth before biting Like the last step before the precipice Like the motionless moment before exhaling So I feel A nothing from changing everything, without anything changing
I have a damn hard time. I struggle to recover. To resume the path to follow. To find myself. I don’t know if the shadow that weighs above me is bigger or the one that devours me from within. False speeches that no longer convince me, false moments of happiness, false smiles. All damn fake. Everything falls into this huge, greedy void that reappears in a thousand different forms but increasingly hungry. Outside the summer bursts but inside the winter has never gone away. Every day that passes I feel more and more thinking, fatigue is dominating me and I feel more and more empty and alone. I am immersing myself so desperately in the search for a land to go to, deluding myself that I can make it, when in reality I do not even know if I will be able to overcome this year as well. This time I feel so deep down, so poised, so immersed in a void that is suffocating me, that I can’t get out of it. I can’t seem to recover that balance that I was finding this summer. I can not ask for help when in reality I would like to scream and cry: cry until the tears are consumed, until I lose track of time, because really: I can’t take it anymore.



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