CORALINE

I was alone and the trees around made that noise that you hear when they drop everything they have on them and there was silence, but at the same time the sound of thuds, branches, leaves in motion even if everything seemed still, an orange butterfly yes stops on my arm and looks at me, whole minutes have passed in which the only thing that brought me back to the present was my own breath. I’m also trying to let parts of me die and fall off like dead leaves or rotten fruit, but I’m not a tree. Sometimes it all seems so difficult, opening up to the world, trying to explore it being afraid of what might be found in the dark. Sometimes it’s all so difficult, sometimes it’s hard even to love. Nobody teaches us to love, there are no rules or notions to follow, of course there are generic ways of behavior but no written law or particular teaching on love. It is not said that those who love in silence love less than those who shout it to the world. It is not certain that those who love in the light of day love more than those who love by hiding in darkness. It is not certain that those who clash by pulling repressed anger in the soul love less than those who love in silence, keeping the pain inside. Yet, despite this, we tend to classify love on a pyramid system made up of actions, behaviors that are placed above or below other actions of those who have shown better or worse. It is said that love is not beautiful if it is not a quarrel, but why is it said? Perhaps only to create a moment of normality in unnecessary quarrels or perhaps because if there is no conflict there is no intersection between thoughts and points of view that will then bind to each other, who knows when. In fact, the key to everything will be the clash, as happens in the universe. Two galaxies, in the course of their collision, can remain united in a single element by merging with each other, or they can move away from each other again, leaving reciprocal elements in them. This is the key to everything, the confrontation. Love is like the universe, it’s up to you to figure out how to act.

CONFIDENT GIRL

Did you realize that what you do is never enough? That nothing is ever enough? Have you noticed that even when you give everything to someone it always seems too little? That it is not enough to be kind, it is not enough to really believe in it, it is not enough to love without any restraint. It takes a plan, it takes a bit of organization even with people. It takes a tactic, a bit of logic and let alone if I can do it, under these conditions. It is obvious that I come out in a bad way from every day, as if in the evening I was removed from a washing machine that lasted about ten hours, with the spinning set at maximum power, and then they laid me in the cold, all wrinkled. It is simply that I have always thought “if I smile sooner or later they will smile at me”, “if I love sooner or later they will love me”, “if I do something with my heart sooner or later they will notice it”. And yet it is not said, and this is the most atrocious truth in front of which I have found myself bending. Love does not always generate love. Sometimes it generates anger, turmoil, and even hatred. My one hundred percent is worth less than zero to someone and there is very little to do. I would like to give up, sometimes, lately almost always, then I care about the world. I care about the music, I care about the poetry, I care about the sound of the rain. I was fooled by that child who told me the other day “of course I believe in Santa Claus, why shouldn’t I?”. And indeed, why shouldn’t you? Desires fool me, that two or three still resist; the kisses steal me, the memories of the days when I dragged myself unhurriedly from the beach to the sea, convinced that I had all the time in the world. I am fooled by the people who sometimes notice me, under my stage costume, and tell me “I see you strange”. They fool me because they see me, and it already seems a lot to me

I’ve always been a confident girl in the people around her. From an early age, every time, I noticed the good side of people. I was naive, yes, but a child always has that fragility and naivety that characterizes her. It is always based on the kind and caring part of people. Now that little girl has grown over the years, but slowly she had to change her mind about what she had seen in people. About what he had discovered about the world and the men who lived there. He had discovered so many fake smiles; many gentle but violent deeds; so many words of encouragement thrown to the wind just to be said; so many actions done with coldness without putting your heart into it. She was disappointed, shocked, saddened. Because the world she had imagined was not at all like the one her dark eyes saw around it. It was all more real, more violent, more serious. As if the eyes of that little girl from years ago had only seen the best part of everything. While now he saw only what little was left of it, after its impact with true reality. He had had to learn to adapt. To force her too to suppress the urge to scream at those who offended her just because she was different. Smile even at those who did not deserve. To be reduced to loving people only through words on a screen. Protect yourself with bitter words in an attempt not to get burned. But maybe he would have made it. Sooner or later, she would be able to bring out what was in the world. Maybe she really could have left a tiny mark that would have screamed at the world “Hey, she did this!” . Who knows, maybe that sign is already doing it. Who knows, maybe it’s just these words that remind you of the past a little bit that have left it to you.