A BIG MESS

It happens like this, that sometimes I think of you randomly and I come back to mind, while I try to live and waste time, your memory is a bit confused but it is there and it happens that I review everything we have been through together, which is little, but you do not know how much a person like me is able to feed on crumbs and believe that it will be forever it happens that I lose heart if I think of you and I have lost you but what can I do, what could I do then, I wonder what I could give you more than what it was and the answer is that I’m sorry because I showed you who I was with my sweetest side, perhaps the one that so few have seen, that I hadn’t seen myself until you. it happens that sometimes, so late at night, it occurs to me how you held me that night in your arms and how my head sank into your neck and how little I cared if my hair was swollen and my legs not long and skinny but you liked them anyway and you always put your hands in my hair repeating how beautiful they were and I remember the feeling of your mouth on mine and even the sound of that kiss that we exchanged so many times, it echoes in mine it lies like a snap and makes more and more noise, more and more until it happens it happens that thinking of you starts to hurt me, and I feel a little dying and a little sad because we no longer exist, you and I it happens that I have to delete the images and slow down the heartbeat that could burst it happens that so randomly I think of you and I would like to know if you are okay, send you a message but I have deleted your number and then I can only think of you without looking for you without looking for those who do not want to be found, and it happens that sometimes life is just a big mess.

FINDING THE DAWN IN THE HOLE OF THE HEART

Panic attacks are awful. They come to you like this, without a reason. So at any moment you are in another dimension; you don’t know where you are; stay still you panic. You tremble. You breathe little and you feel bad, you feel death, heart attack…. you feel bad and you have to go through everything alone. But then the breath comes back, you could survive again. I’m not sure where I find all this strength. Destiny has always had a great sense of humor, she enjoys doing strange things and making people suffer, she plays with them as if they were puppets, and we can’t help but stand still and watch. I dreamed of pink sunrises over the sea. I saw them all but fate took them away. The black sea remained, deep, and I could not go down there to get wet and drown. Even when we were born we actually died, we went to a completely different dimension, and we suffered, it wasn’t easy, our life at that moment ended and we were transported to another dimension. If you think about it when we are in the belly it is not defined earthly life, it is life inside the placenta, therefore the ‘placental’ life ceases. Who tells us that after earthly life there is no life in another temporal dimension? I can be here but enter another timeline when I’m sick. Destiny has taken my pink dawns but the blue sea covers my body, it flies blue and I am happy in the sea.

NOONE BEHIND A GREAT WOMAN

How many times have you heard of a husband or boyfriend who sacrificed his career for his partner? How many times have you heard that a man copied his wife’s stories or poems at night? How many men do you know who have helped a woman to make a career, to get to the top, to become someone? Tell me one name of a man! Who are these men who gave up their lives to make her take flight? Could she make it to the finish line? please give me some names. Because there are thousands and millions of women who have done this, but no one comes to mind. Indeed, men are usually the ones who hate that women can go ahead and do something for themselves. Men want them and their family and children and the house and the kitchen to be first and then more. Who are these men who said to their partners: “Leave everything alone and go, I’ll take care of it here”? Have you read it in what blog? Let me know. Women have always sacrificed themselves in everything for men, in the name of love, and they should kill this love, since in the end they do not get anywhere and often remain fooled by that feeling It is said that behind a great man there is a great woman. But behind a great woman there is no one because no man ever renounces himself, neither for love nor for anything else. And tell me some names that prove the opposite!

MY LIFE AS A STUDENT

Every time I find myself in a new place or even if I just wander around I start to scan the places and imagine what it would be like to live there as a bum. So I look for corners to shelter, where I could escape the elements, ways to get food, money or clothes, possible companies and I analyze, weighing how hard it can be, I study the movements of those who already lead this life. I have lived in Palermo for most of my life, it is a city full of people, sunny for most of the year, one of the most trampled by tourists in the world, perfect for life as a stray. And vagrants (it’s not a sarcastic joke) is full of them. I have lived for quite some time near the BALLARÒ market district so I have really seen many, many, everyone has their own style, everyone has their habits, each their dignity and even the pet can vary, too in Milan, in the Cenisio area, a vagabond had a beautiful rooster as a pet, enviably kept, well fed, beautiful shiny, proud, you went shopping and found him in front of the supermarket wandering with his head held high. Seeing some of them made your heart cry, while others, it seems ugly to say, made you hate the life of a privileged student. There were days that I met one under the house, he was always on the bench and sometimes I stopped to exchange a few words and he spoke in dialect and I gave him my best drawings because they were more precious to me than money. Then sometimes I would bring him some hot food cooked by me, typical things of my country. He was fine, calm, serene, he talked about math and plants and he knew about it and I went to the Ethiopian shop on the corner and bought him some colorful blankets, some sweaters and some flowers because I wanted to cheer him up. He didn’t want to live in the dorm. A wandering woman, on the other hand, was sad, she was always sleeping at the station, alone, downcast, I think she was actually a woman who had lost her job and always carried a suitcase with her, with everything she owned inside I suppose. I saw her every morning and I very much hoped she would get away from there, I was afraid they would beat her. When I saw her sleeping, I left her a plastic container with hot food. I had a house, or rather a room, tiny but for me it was a lot. I led a life where the only time I expected was the night to study in silence. I didn’t know who ate and dressed in style and I wondered what it would be like to take courage in both hands and stop the life that I had never wanted, not even imagined and give up everything, be left with nothing.

DON’T FORGET A CUP OF TEA

Dream big, they say, aim for the stars. And then they lock us up for 12 years and tell us where to sit, when to pee and what to think. Then we turn eighteen and without ever having our thoughts, we have to make the most important decision of our life.
I always look for the sun beyond the clouds. I give smiles because I don’t know how to stay angry for too long. I have large and transparent eyes where my emotions are easily read. I learned to resist even when I was the only one who believed it. I can’t help but be there, I always put all of myself into it. I’m not one who gives up, I fall and stumble but I always get up. As a child I wanted to be a princess but life taught me to fight and I became a warrior. I wear armor and hide all my fears. I keep dreaming, chasing shooting stars, making wishes. Because I have a heart of sugar and marzipan, of stars and candies, a heart that is perhaps too delicate but, after all, giving love is never wrong. I’m just trying to be all the best I can, even if it’s hard sometimes because I never feel enough. I who love too much, with an overflowing love. I who always believe in love, even when it hurts.
It is difficult to stay close to me, I am demanding. I have a contagious laugh and an irrepressible cry, my eyes are full of stars and my drawers are full of dreams, I have scars in my soul and spring in my heart. If I get hurt I break into a thousand pieces and yet I know how to be strong because if I fall I get up on my own. I am always ready to stumble over some mistakes and to collect mistakes. But I prefer to hurt myself rather than hurt those I love. I am insecure, moody, indomitable. I need attention, hugs and caresses. I am made of sun and clouds, of tears and smiles. I am melancholy, restless, impetuous, overwhelming. I often take refuge in my dreams and my silences. Sometimes I feel like running away but in the end I stay. I always stay. Because those like me when they love have no brakes, no barriers, no limits. Those like me are made of heart and soul. Those like me if they love they stay, they don’t run away. Even when love hurts, even when wounds hurt, even when tears fill the eyes, even when bruises on the heart take your breath away.
I have had so many difficult moments in my life, black moments where I forgot even the existence of colors. I hit rock bottom, I went down into the abyss. I’ve been sick, a lot. But then I got stronger, got up and threw everything behind me. Step by step I started walking again, sometimes in the rain, sometimes with skinned knees, yet I made it. All the strength I need is within me, I just have to remember to look for the rainbow. I want to color my soul and find a smile again because a woman never gives up and always finds the courage to look forward and start over. I went through storms learning to swim on my own, I didn’t give up and again saw the sun’s rays behind the clouds and bright stars illuminating the night. I still carry within me that shy and insecure little girl of many years ago but now I have become stronger and I have learned that everything in life passes, sooner or later. And you can always start over, just believe it, just want to, just don’t give up.

SENSATION

I’ve seen people leave my life without even apologizing for the inconvenience. Then I saw other people sitting quietly on a bench waiting for me to notice they were there for me. I met people who just met made me think “I could never share time with someone like this” and became the most important people in my life. There were those that I liked at first glance and they then showed me, along the way, that it was just superficiality and mistake. Those people I judged negatively only because they didn’t convince me, or because they didn’t think like me on many and many topics and then, they taught me that, despite the differences, people know how to be beautiful precisely because they are “different” . I met someone who made me say with conviction “I will never forget you again”, but after a couple of years I no longer wondered where they were and how they were, not out of malice, but because sometimes it just happens. And then I met those who traveled only a little way with me and in the end embarked on their path, different and distinct from mine and has remained with me even today. Because life is a way to go. You will meet many faces, some will simply remain so, others will be much more than this.
In a moment of time, my life took a break. She relaxed and focused on the world around her. It was all chaotic and peaceful at the same time, like calm water in the open sea and destructively marvelous crashing against the rocks. And that was how I felt that sentimental gash; I felt like a hot wind breaking on my skin, it was the steam that the old train was expelling from the fireplace, while its engine was revving and pawing, it made its way into the walls of my heart. A crust by now settled there was to protect it, a really hard crust, behind which there was hidden a roaring and pounding heart like that train. That crust, under that warm wind of steam, began to weaken, and the vibrations of the engine cracked it. The future refused to answer his questions, however, telling him that he had to focus on the present, do what he felt without looking away.
It’s all so fleeting, volatile Speed ​​is relative, pure mental perception Time, the only constant of everything. Therefore learning through attraction complexes is nothing more than a distraction of the space-time perception of the present around. If there is interest in an unknown girl, but present in the present, it is good to express it, against any reaction. Imperturbability is the ability to have firmness of mind. This, combined with the passage of time, puts up resistance to this, however, releasing awareness of actions and consequences. This is to say that if you find a girl you like, don’t mind talking to her. Don’t let time try to unite you, because time will do nothing like that for you, no one.

BOOK LIFE

Some books are like a safe place where you know you can take refuge when you have had enough of the world and you need a hiding place to catch your breath and free yourself from the senseless frenzy of a life that almost never lives up to the expectations you had. Reading is seclusion, sheltering, isolating oneself from the rest, healing oneself from wounds that would find it difficult to heal if exposed to light. To read is to stay closed there, in the silence that cloaks you while everything out there is useless noise. I have always enjoyed reading very much. Books open up a world of possibilities, they open your mind. They catapult you to distant places, while you are comfortably seated in your home. They isolate you from the rest of the world. They rock you. They heal you. Yes, because when we are sick, books can be therapeutic. In those written lines we find our history, our pain. We no longer feel alone. The author of the book knows perfectly well what we are talking about, but above all he knows perfectly well what we are feeling: in the world there is another person who has suffered and experienced what I am suffering and experiencing now.

LET’S SIT TOGETHER

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.

SOAP BALL

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.

YOU LOVE COLD OR HOT?


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.

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