I write. When you have inspiration, you don't have to block it. It's like blocking a raging river, an erupting volcano, a band of protesters during what can be called a revolution.
We all lead a life that sooner or later will have to undergo analysis. This can be defined as the right moment, indeed the perfect moment, that is the night.
I stop, I look outside, the night upsets me too much. These stars are too beautiful. The sun goes down and thoughts rise. I think the night is the sweet spot for everyone.
Wise friend and kind adviser and at the same time despair of insomnia and unexpected nightmares. The night.
I am writing by interrupting myself very often, making many full stops, leaving what should be obvious and obvious slightly in suspense. But that's how it is at night.
You want to clarify, wriggle between your problems and your paranoia but she makes you a barrier of stars, engulfs you in her luminous shadow and takes you into her galaxy.
He puts a full stop and removes that strange squiggle that makes up the question mark. It ends your hopes and fuels them at the same time.
He does some strange things tonight.
God, thank you for having created the night, a forbidden and inaccessible place for those who do not dream and a place of enchantment and wonder for free minds. For brave, bold and fearless spirits.
Give me strength tonight too.
Tonight I know that you are my friend, sweet darkness, cradle me and put me to sleep, take the reins of my life and take me far where no one knows.
Make me yours and make me a star because I want to shine and bring peace.


By now it is understood
Mankind will soon become extinct,
People suffer for love,
People don't have children anymore and if they do they are treated like toys,
People who love pass for weak people, in fact there are few left
Betrayal is the order of the day and this action is more protected,
The right people always get made fun of, Good people look like a jerk,
Lying is considered more correct than telling the truth,
The boys have no plans,
Women often want to be treated badly because they like having a badboy by their side without thinking about the future,
Men only want to have a woman as an outlet and not as a shoulder to lean on in times of need, face obstacles together build a family, None of that.
My generation has literally burned, like the first one and like those to come... education has changed, we no longer respect each other either in the family or outside the home
And unfortunately there are things that cannot be saved, and this is one of them.


Eyes of the heart inside a ring,
They wrote sad words of sin:
The wrong time,
The wrong beat,
The wrong night It was raining and you were crushed.
The wind was deserted,
the night dark,
You had a thought that warmed up,
You took it with you inside the hotels of iron.
And then he came,
with a shadow in his heart,
devouring donuts,
devouring the dust of ancient houses.
You wanted to escape the grave,
and your rose was still alive.
Then the flower turned daisy yellow,
Wine had the last drop on his heart And the car went into the ravine.





Crazy people,




Those like this live on kindness, sharing.

Free souls, at peace with each other and with mother nature.

Graceful spirits in harmonious connection with each other.

Burning with life, hungry for beauty.

Those who have left

the handrail for some time

and they don't remember the way they went

let alone that of the return.

Masters and slaves of the truth

Rarity in short.


The Moth Animal Spirit can relate to the secrets you hold deeply within yourself and the knowledge and wisdom you have acquired over the years. It can represent your attraction for good and evil and the frailty you feel with every choice, your faith and determination, and is also associated with clairvoyance and psychic abilities.
The Moth represents the truth that you cannot see because you find yourself groping in the dark, but when the rest is illuminated, everything becomes as clear as day.
The Moth also represents your passions and the things that give you pleasure.
This Animal Spirit is full of initiative and determination. Nothing will stop him from getting what he wants, even if it means being consumed by fire. Your totem pole wants you to be bold and brave.

Don't let your fear of rejection or failure stop you from getting what you want! You have the gift of attraction. If you commit and focus on what you want, you can easily attract the people and energies that will help you come out triumphant.


It burns.
He wants new life:
this is my heart.

Yet I know how much it can be her golden shower
yet it is discouraged in front of revealing itself, 
saying it is eager,
to the longing to return to peaks of joy irradiated with the light of love.

As the caterpillar forces the shell to come out, 
it must be my heart:
 it must become aware of itself and understand that it is worth, 
and reclaim its joy.


Hard rock,
a gentle constant,
beloved unknown,
Veiled touch,
the different girl,
as he dances he looks out.
And he is inside her
and wants to climb a mountain.
But do you really want to climb it?
The different girl misses a simple step.
It is resumed.
The rain comes down,
he also goes down to the mountain where he waits for the start.
But he's only in his head,
he tells her bad things,
she falls and gets hurt.
He comes out of the dance room,
cut in two by this conflict:
to be with him or to be with herself?
Time goes fast,
the other dancers follow the hands,
she is still sitting in the locker room, she doesn't know what to do.
The rain comes harder,
he falls from the mountain,
there he is at his feet, he's a tiny being,
like a little elf,
it's her Ego, and it's dancing for her,
just for her.
The different girl smiles.
She gets up and goes back to the room, light,
sweet, a feather of a cloud.


Eyes to the sky, a dark sky, without stars. The silence, dark and cold, with no more screeching. A window that separates me from that world that fits me tight. Nothing to upset me. Me, the silence and the coolness of a April dressed in November. The arms resting on the railing and the head that slowly becomes heavy. What’s giving out? The heart, the mind or the body? And perhaps in the end it is the heart that carefully chooses the most painful moments, those moments in which to turn off because enduring is no longer allowed, because at a certain point endurance is no longer human. And anger arrives, pain arrives, tears arrive, disappointment arrives and loneliness also arrives, because anyone in front of your pain does not understand and yells at you. Or maybe in the end the problem is just you, who always believe so innocently that you are so hurt that you don’t want anything anymore. In the end, it’s not even worth it anymore. The lights beyond that window go out, the screams cease, and you can go back to lie down on a bed drenched in hidden tears.


It gives the chills to think about how much your life can change in a year. A year ago, today, I was probably wondering if you were happy. If I really need to split up with another person. If I had to give our story a second chance. Second, more than second, I don’t know, last? I do not know. Only a few months later I found the courage to choose me, risking realizing, one day, perhaps today, that I was not enough alone, risking that day to regret not having given the last, plus one, chance to that love story. Because it was love. I don’t know what love it was, but it was a kind of love, no matter what. Today I am different, today I am a woman, I feel more powerful, more important, more mature. I feel it is possible, to be enough for yourself. It is possible to be enough. Frida said that first you had to fall in love with yourself, with life, and then with another person. Then. Well I didn’t even love myself, let alone life. But I loved another person. Maybe that was what was wrong, what pulled me to the bottom. The order. I remember that moment well, the moment I began to love myself, the moment I began to feel that I had a value. And there what do you do, what do you do when you believed that the love of another was enough to feel loved, and suddenly you discover that it is not so. For me it was like opening a door to which I never had the key. One day I got up and kicked that door down. And how do you go back when you understand how to love yourself, and that you can love yourself much more than another can? Don’t come back. And I didn’t come back.

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