What if it was all in vain?
Do you still want to swim, go to the sea, see that marvel of transparent nature. I saw a dolphin come back and the turtles find silent places, the blue becomes deep and the clouds protect us from the heat.
It was a wonderful dream but you know, then you wake us up and you find yourself on a beach full of bottles, masks and gloves, the turtles have just suffocated, the dolphins float after having worn out your mask and the clouds do not exist, the heat has become too much for me. I'm locked up at home, maybe we should get used to it.
A dream is not valid but reality kills us.
I confess that I hold my heart between the sunsets,
split in two,
created as a single center,
divided by suns and moons
of another galaxy.
I confess that I am not in my bones, that I have no body, my breath is distorted by opposite impulses
to the immortal nature.
I confess that I have edges outside the body, between the clouds and the stars.
Knots in the throat.
Desires left in the red veins.
Pulsation.
Danger of melting into so much universal love.
Hard rock,
a gentle constant,
beloved unknown,
rough.
Veiled touch,
the different girl,
tiptoed,
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.
I’ve always looked at the sky. Every time I am in a place I have always lost myself looking at the blue of the sky, the white of the clouds. I’ve always had a strange connection with the sky I always feel part of him when I lose myself looking at him. I remain there enchanted. I get lost in thoughts To reflect on everything that goes through my head at that moment. I always leave a piece of my thoughts in those clouds A piece of me in that infinite blue. As if for a moment everything was still there in that sky. As if for a moment all thoughts are dispersed in those clouds. As if for a moment I forgot everything. I slept great tonight. Small in a huge bed, duvet to cover me and two pillows around to protect me. Zero nightmares. I dreamed of my father. He came to wake me up around five. He put his hand on my shoulder and said “I brought you the croissant”. At that point, the information received woke up all those particles of me that dance wildly at the thought of food. Inside of me I jumped up, but in reality the movement was quite slow. I first took off the covers, stretched, yawned as with every awakening, put on the false crocks and went to the kitchen to eat the croissant with cream. But there was nothing and so, a little sad, I only drank some fruit juice like every morning, remembering the time at university when my father came to me and brought me sweets. After breakfast, I opened the bedroom window and saw the white cat, PIPPINEDDA, ​​in the garden eating some herbs. She had a sly, very sweet look. When she noticed me she went away. I cleaned the bedroom by making the bed, sweeping and mopping the floor; then the bathroom by thoroughly cleaning the accessories and all the products on the shelf, my father’s postit still on the mirror and in order not to remove it I cleaned the glass all around. I also tidied up the living room and kitchen by washing the floor and tidying up. While I was in the Cinderella version I listened to the usual songs and hummed perhaps a little too much. After cleaning I prepared the vegetarian meatloaf: minced meat, courgette bread, eggs, parmesan, parsley, salt and pepper, and lactose-free slices for the filling. After that I started writing, and LUIGINA, my black and white kitten, started to watch TV and I to the pc to update the blog. About half past I baked the meatloaf with potatoes. After lunch I did the dishwasher, because I can’t wash the dishes because my wrist hurts right away. There was peace in this house and it seemed to me that my father suddenly opened the door. But it was only this morning’s dream. I was happy to see him again.
In spite of everything…. Life deserves to be lived. In moments of calm and in those of storm. When the night is dark and starless, but also when it brightens and you can see the dawn. When ageless anguish rises from the stomach and suffocates you, like when you watch a sunset sitting on a bench. Timewill pass, and the dolphins will continue to swim and jump next to me, and a magical world of pink and blue clouds on which I lightly learn to walk will always await me. Beauty, hope, play have no time and time does not exist in friendship. The soul meets other souls and together we simply travel through an indelible space, be it long or short. And this space becomes shorter and the climb less tiring if you have friends next to you to share with. This space is also here, where I met and meet special souls. Life deserves to be lived, despite everything ….
There is a person, alone, leaning against a window overlooking the world, he looks but has his eyes closed, he is unable to see. He hears all the noises in the world: cars that run, children who laugh, those who cry, adults who fight, what they love. The leaves that move resting on the wind, the clouds that move, the water that flows in the rivers, which ends up in the seas, in the puddles, down the gutters. He hears everything but cannot hear. He answers everything but is unable to speak. He would like to touch everything but is unable to move out of that window. There is this person who is desperate, but does not want to cross that fine line. Every day he looks, listens, answers. After months she starts crying every night, she was missing something that could not exist for her. Standing on the windowsill he screams, but no one can hear, because he cannot speak. He decides to go up on that windowsill every day, to make his voice heard. And scream, scream, scream. Then one afternoon he freezes with his mouth ajar and whispers. "Is it I who cannot speak, or the others who are unable to listen to me?" The closed mouth, a weight in the void, the hair resting on the wind, the clouds move. Then there is the land, a lot of land. Above, below, everywhere. Its branches sway, the leaves dance forced by the force of the wind, the roots are well planted up to the center of the earth. Every day he listens to the birds singing, the squirrels chasing each other, the clouds that move, the water that flows in the rivers, which ends up in the seas, in the puddles, down the gutters. Children laugh, others cry sometimes. Some adults kiss there, in the shade of her hair. The answer comes like a blizzard. It is others who are unable to listen.
Sometimes I can’t sleep well and wake up in the middle of the night. It is initially frustrating to open your eyes in a dark room, but it doesn’t take much to make that moment magical. The birds chirp, hidden among the branches of the gnarled trees, while an incredible quiet reigns outside. The streets are deserted, the lights of the houses still extinguished, while a pale moon peeps through the clouds, whitening the landscape with its white light. A wonderful mantle of stars covers the sky, small but bright they shine majestically, giving, to the observer, an inexplicable serenity. This mystical moment, suspended between the nocturnal darkness and the multicolored lights of dawn, is known by few, which makes it even more special.Rough sea, The sky invokes a storm … Black, hurl lightning on us … The animals run for cover, They are afraid… Two little birds embraced, They tremble in their nest … Too fragile to withstand the elements. Chilling the wickedness of this nature, Cruel laughter, The ground trembles, This little house falls. Desperate song … The little birds run away, They force each other … I was left alone. Raindrops slide down my face, I look at the sky … It is covered with furious clouds … I laugh. I am still here! What else do you want to do?It was three in the morning. I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and headed outside. It was cold, very cold, but I didn’t care, the air was fresh, only birds and crickets could be heard, no cars, no boys / girls, and not even screaming parents. I took deep breaths, for a moment I admit I felt free. Free from everything and everyone, from my problems, from thoughts. I went back inside, took a large blanket and made myself some tea. I went into the garden and sat on a chair, looking at nature in all its beauty, listening carefully to the sounds of the animals, the birds sing even at night, and for once, relax without any problems.Sometimes it seems like everything hurts us, we should also be afraid of the sea. With what eyes should we look at ourselves, if our eyes are full of dross. Multiple satellites destroy the sky, a veil of blue feathers would be better. Run fast above the clouds, run blue birds, take the treasure of light and give it to everyone.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 