THE DANCE OF LIFE

Life is like dance. Life is a dance, but you cannot choose to stop from it. Dance like life will inevitably give you pain and fatigue, it will involve sacrifices, sacrifices and difficulties. It will disappoint you at times, when you won’t be able to take a step properly, or when you don’t get that place within the choreography you expected, just as life will disappoint you, at times, when things don’t go as you hoped, when even though he has put his whole heart into something, it will not come true.
So in dance as in life you need a little luck, you need physical qualities such as instep, elasticity, dynamics, coordination, and some dancers are more fortunate than others to have them, but the desire to do comes where talent cannot go. Those who commit themselves, those who have willpower, passion, dedication and perseverance, go much further than those who have great natural gifts but lack these qualities.
And so in life there will always be someone luckier, better, but to achieve real results is only those who do not give up and always work with the heart.
In dance as in life, you must also learn to let yourself go, if you focus too much on your steps, if you only think not to make mistakes, you lose the music, you waste time. You have to abandon yourself to the sound and let yourself be guided by it, and so in life, sometimes, it is necessary to stop thinking, stop your head and let your heart free, let yourself go and let yourself live.
Each dance hall is full of mirrors, certainly not to exalt the vanity of the dancers, but because in dance as in life it is necessary to learn to know each other, to look at each other, to accept each other in everything that characterizes us, trying every day to become better. others, but of ourselves. Because when you get on that stage and your song starts you forget all the pains, all the sacrifices, all the disappointments, all the hours spent trying to improve the detail, and you just think about being happy. And so in life every wound, every suffering and every renunciation, the moment you finally manage to see realized what you have fought so much for, vanishes into thin air.
Try dancing, on stage, in front of an audience, in a crowd, or on the street, at the supermarket when your favorite song passes by, or even alone in your room with headphones, but try to dance, learn to dance, it will seem to have learned a little more to live. –

 

MYSTERIA LANE

On the second floor of my building lives a couple of elderly gentlemen. I have no idea what his name is, but I have often heard him refer to her as "Dear Rosina". I met them on the stairs and before greeting me with big smiles, I saw them come down arm in arm, slowly, patiently. I thought of Montale, how he was able to paint the same scene with all the love he felt for his partner who was no longer there. As a child, I dreamed of great achievements, distant journeys, a fire lit in a house that I could call mine. Now I just hope to be able to grow old with a man next to me who looks at me as my neighbor looked at his Rosina, step by step.
There is a gentleman on the third floor of my building. He is a very robust man on the verge of obesity. However this is hardly visible due to its height. I got to know him from the very beginning of my arrival in this building thanks to his desperate, angry screams, at mealtimes, addressed to a woman who in my fantasies I assume was the very old mother. I then got to know him physically from the peephole of my door since, throughout the quarantine, couriers arrived to deliver packages to the latter. Everyday. Every day more and more out of breath from step to step. Always the quarantine then, he introduced me to Paola, the neighbor across from my building, who asked me if I too heard the cries of this man and then informed me that a few months earlier the one who confirmed me to be his mother died. The mother of this man.
There are those people you would like to get rid of for good.
Like the guy who, no matter how many times you've told him, continues to park his car on your private parking lot; or the neighbor who every Sunday morning starts drilling the walls, which also makes you doubt that his house has now become a gruyere, who will never have to drill, no one knows. Or the classic annoying relative you see once every three months, and in that one time he is able to get you a real third degree about boyfriends / study / work, and he can't understand that in those three months things haven't changed much, and the only thing you want to tell him is to shut the damn mouth.

Or the classic friend - or friend, of your choice - of the person you're with. The nice friend who doesn't have to put in much effort to be a bitch, because she was born with this talent, and she is also very good at smashing the so-called with her presence.

Well, unfortunately, we cannot get rid of these people. Not by legal means, at least. But looking at them with a smile and sending them straight to fuck can be seriously rewarding.
Under my window I hear the neighbors' child. his name is like me and in these days of isolation he often plays in the garden, helps his mother to make the vegetable garden and plant the seeds. she has never been too patient, yet now there is a whole new cure in the gestures that are repeated, from the soil that falls into the pot to the attention with which she takes care that each plant has its right amount of sun. when time expands, more attention can be paid, more kindnesses can be granted. "I would like to know only when it will end" the little girl lets slip and this is what we are all asking ourselves a bit, between worry and the days that repeat themselves. then her mum takes her by the hand and helps her to wet the earth with the watering can, I look at them from above with the cat and I think that all we can do is just that, keep the soil ready and take care of the seeds.
But I still carry dance inside. He forged me, he taught me to measure myself with my strength, with the need for order. It is to her that I owe the discipline I work with. It was hard to have to leave, but it was my driving force and it still is. "
Dusting off old photos ... A past life between spikes, tutu, hall, shows and theaters ... Infinite sadness for letting go of the only thing that can make me really happy. 
I don't think I'm an excellent girlfriend. I have my mood swings. I have my fixes. I have my flaws. I try to restrain myself, not to seem psychopathic, not to make tragedies. I'm good at being strong. Then I burst out for a trifle, as if it were the most important in the world. And I'm a child, sometimes. Stubborn. I get angry about something and can't think of anything else for the next three days. I'm drastic, I don't know half measures. With me or without me. Right or wrong. In or out. There are no ajar doors, only locked doors and keys thrown into the void. There is no going back. I am emotional, instinctive. I let go of people I needed just out of pride. I held back people who didn't deserve me just for hope. I am romantic. I cry in front of a movie and get excited by small thoughtful gestures. I write love letters that I will never have the courage to read aloud. I pay attention to details. I'm a perfectionist, sometimes hysterical. I am far from the idea of ​​perfection. But I love so much. I love with all my strength, no ifs and buts. I love with every single part of my body. I love so much that I have stomach cramps, other than butterflies. And even if my loving so much started to wear me out, I'd let it.

WHISPERS AND SCREAMS

Scream. I scream and I don’t feel. My cries are muffled in my pain. My stomach screams, my liver screams, my heart screams. Every single part of me screams, and the brain doesn’t hear. My head doesn’t let screams in. He keeps worrying about everything that happens around me, as if I cared about it later. But she prefers to listen to what the world has to say, maybe someone needs to be comforted. What does it matter if there is a mess inside me when I can solve someone else’s mess? And who solves mine? Nobody. Opening up has never been my strong point, at least not in words. Whoever looks me in the eye and observes me, knows what I feel. The pain, the joy, the sadness. But these people are few. And of these, half abandon you because you are too messed up and / or find better. But how can you leave after having known every strength and weakness of the other? The screams are not heard at all. And not everyone is able to understand them. But who can do it, where does he find the courage to abandon that person and feed his inner screams? And how can that person make their brain listen to screams? It is impossible to save yourself.
Or maybe one simply finds himself sitting undressed in the living room armchair in the middle of the night and, surprisingly, is captured by a horrible, corrosive perception of everything that has brought him to that point in his life, the hopes of childhood, lost friends, missed appointments, broken hearts, and yells at anyone who can listen to him, begs for everything to end, calls for a solution, for the program to be interrupted and not to proceed for even one more minute.
I know how you are. You try to look strong in all situations, but no one knows that when you are alone for a minute, your world collapses like a house of cards moved by the wind. You don’t know whether to scream, cry or break something. You have a mixture of emotions so damn strong that you feel bursting inside, but on the outside you seem happy like everyone else. I know you try to take refuge in music, but sometimes even that doesn’t lift your spirits. I would like you to remember, that no matter how difficult life may seem, you will always have the strength to overcome any moment, any adversity, anything!

DANCING ON THE SAND

I’m not ready to let go of summer. I long for the sea, for salt on my skin, for promises whispered under the stars, for a pink sky that brings new days. I want salty kisses good to eat, songs sung around a bonfire with guitars in hand, hugs that warm the heart and make you forget all problems, all thoughts. I want to wait for the dawn full of dreams, of laughter under the moon, to dance barefoot on the beach. Because summer always brings new wonders, special loves made of salt and shells, of stars and sand, of brushed lips and intertwined hands. Clothes become light and so do thoughts. In summer everything changes flavor, in summer everything is possible. The sea that caresses the skin, the fireflies that light up the nights, the hugs that take your breath away and are good for the heart, the shooting stars full of desires, the taste of salt on the lips, those stolen kisses that heal every wound. In summer you can breathe love and your eyes are filled with dreams. Summer is made for wonder.
I think that one of the best moments of relationships between two people is the first period, when you are getting to know each other and there is already confidence but it is still a mystery, there are the news, the smiles in front of the screen and the desire to see each other constantly, unexpected compliments, gestures made with care, sacrifices, help, always wanting to touch each other, discover each other, understand what the other likes, slowness, seriousness and light jokes. then the force goes away. there are no reasons. you stop tuning your heart and soul. there are no more mysteries and you need news. you have to ask why it is no longer given to you spontaneously, there are no more surprises with small gestures, you forget to respond to messages, you no longer get excited, you no longer want to contact, you feel that everything is forced, conversations and sentences seem like a copy of the copy of the copy of the conversation from the other day, you no longer see the spontaneity you have always wanted to experience, you no longer want to run. you drag everything. talk about it. wait. hope for novelty. it never comes. keep waiting
I seem to see my life unfold from a disturbed television. I feel very far from this world. almost foreign in this body. as if every happy memory was washed out of my mind. I close my eyes and can’t remember what it feels like to be happy. my chest falls back into my stomach at the thought of having to get up in the morning and pretend not to go out slowly again. I want to reach out and touch things, and I want to feel them touch me in turn. I want to live. I want the vitality of my life back.
I’ve always had a big flaw; boredom. I’ve always been bored with everything; things, places, people. I walked away from a lot of people out of boredom, because I have always been of the opinion that those who had to be close to me had to enrich me, fill me up, upset my brain and soul. I’ve always loved unexpected things, people who are different or the same as me who set my head on fire in some way. I hated my character many times because I sent people away because of him and the excuse of ‘I’m like that’ cannot always hold. So I tell you that I live my life to set myself on fire and I want people beside me who can set me on fire. Everything bores me, except fire.
Life is like dance. Life is a dance, but you cannot choose to stop from it. Dance like life will inevitably give you pain and fatigue, it will involve sacrifices, sacrifices and difficulties. It will disappoint you at times, when you won’t be able to take a step properly, or when you don’t get that place within the choreography you expected, just as life will disappoint you, at times, when things don’t go as you hoped, when even though he has put his whole heart into something, it will not come true. So in dance as in life you need a little luck, you need physical qualities such as instep, elasticity, dynamics, coordination, and some dancers are more fortunate than others to have them, but the desire to do comes where talent cannot go. Those who commit themselves, those who have willpower, passion, dedication and perseverance, go much further than those who have great natural gifts but lack these qualities. And so in life there will always be someone luckier, better, but only those who do not give up and always work with the heart to achieve real results. In dance as in life, you must also learn to let yourself go, if you concentrate too much on your steps, if you only think not to make mistakes, you lose the music, you waste time. You have to abandon yourself to the sound and let yourself be guided by it, and so in life, sometimes, it is necessary to stop thinking, stop your head and let your heart free, let yourself go and let yourself live. Each dance hall is full of mirrors, certainly not to exalt the vanity of the dancers, but because in dance as in life it is necessary to learn to know each other, to look at each other, to accept each other in everything that characterizes us, trying every day to become better, not others, but of ourselves. Because when you get on that stage and your song starts, you forget all the pains, all the sacrifices, all the disappointments, all the hours spent trying to improve the detail, and you just think about being happy. And so in life every wound, every suffering and every renunciation, the moment you finally manage to see realized what you have fought so much for, vanishes into thin air. Try to dance, on stage, in front of an audience, in a crowd, or on the street, at the supermarket when your favorite song passes by, or even alone in your room with headphones, but try to dance, learn to dance, it will seem to have learned a little more to live.

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