HOW DO I FEEL?

How do you feel when everything you do never gets paid for? When are you the only one fighting, but keep getting attacks and defending yourself with a meager patch shield? How do you feel when you see everything shattered, when the closer you get to something, the more it moves away from you? Disappointed, in pieces. You just want to break down, unplug and pass your joystick to someone who can win your war, because you know that if you keep playing, you will keep losing.
Last night I had an absurd mood swings. It is a particular period, as it is for everyone, and I am living it differently than a few months ago … in all respects. I’m not who I want to be with and where I want to be. At first I let the pressure and the sense of not belonging slip on me, only in the last period and especially in the last days I have more bad mood than anything else. Not intended only as sadness, but also as anger, boredom, apathy and nostalgia. I cashed in and cashed in, slipped, improved and perfected, but the road is still long and I didn’t stop to breathe a little. This is why tonight I missed the air even more and I was sick, I was crying and sobbing. Then, as every time, I recovered slowly. I fell asleep late and slept little, I collapsed destroyed at five in a heavy sleep … I slept well at least! I don’t usually ask for help or talk about these moments because I don’t like being looked at with different eyes and showing what my weaknesses are, and I don’t even do it with the people I love that I know could take me high in a second. Zero nightmares.
For dinner my husband ordered sandwiches from Burgher King so yes, they eat sandwiches and I ate bulgur and vegetables. But I wasn’t very hungry and then the smell of those sandwiches disgusts me. After dinner we went to my sister-in-law to watch a series. The streets were deserted, dimly lit and very sad. On the way, however, I saw six balconies of different houses decorated with lights of every color and I thought that sometimes someone would like it to be always Christmas. The streets were deserted and sad-looking and I like to think that people had put lights on to give soul and color to the streets. Once home we sat on the sofa to watch RAGNAROK, because she likes Thor. At home I never watch TV, and the two of us have never seen it together, but in reality we have never spent time together after my wedding. Anyway I like her with her, she’s relaxing and we have fun. Now I’m in bed, I’m sleepy but I want to look at flowers, they relax me. If you like, can you recommend me some movies / TV series in the comments, privately or anonymously?

100 LOVES FOR MY HEART

They say that I have changed, that I am no longer the sunny girl, the one who always smiled, who got along well with everyone, who immediately made friends, the carefree one, without problems, without a thousand paranoia, the me of the past. The truth is that she got lost among the disappointments, the times when I wanted to scream but remained silent, the ‘all right’ that never were, but no one noticed.
The myself of the past has been lost in the wickedness of life. Among the people who betray you, among the lies, among all those who have abandoned me. Excuse me so much if now I am more evil, more proud and perhaps even a little selfish, sorry if I am not always happy with others but now I am thinking of myself. Excuse me so much if I don’t suit you anymore, but this is just survival instinct.
Who knows what people feel when they realize they are alone. When she realizes that the world is not looking for her, that no one thinks of her, when she realizes that she will have to face monsters under the bed alone, when she realizes that people do not understand her, when they understand that the world will not be around her. Who knows what people feel when they understand that sometimes you are better off alone, when they understand that no one will help you in life, when the world does not understand you. Who knows what people feel when they understand that the world does not listen to their silences, does not understand them, does not try to help them. When the world collapses against him, when everything around him seems less colorful. When the world is seen either in black or white, never in another color. Who knows what people feel when they understand that the world uses their frailties to kill them slowly. Who knows what she feels when she realizes that she is surrounded by loneliness. Who knows if he fights it, if he rolls up his sleeves so as not to collapse or if he replaces it with anyone. Who knows if people when they understand that loneliness is overwhelming them struggle. Who knows what people feel when they understand that loneliness is part of their life and they can’t do anything to stop it. Who knows if people with loneliness talk to us, play with us, laugh at us, joke about it or if maybe at the moment they are at home, they have to fight against something bigger than them. Who knows if people make loneliness their best friend, if they learn to live with it, if after a while they don’t want to let it go. Who knows if people fear loneliness, if they are afraid of it, if at the very thought of it they stop breathing. Who knows if one day people will find happiness in solitude. Who knows if one day people will realize that being alone is sometimes a salvation “

EMOTIONAL CHAOS

  1. Never repress your emotions just because they make you feel guilty or think they are wrong. No emotion is wrong and if we feel it in us there is always a reason and the more we try to justify it rationally or avoid them we only do damage to ourselves because repression makes them come back to the surface and transform them into fears. Always be open to yourself, listen to yourself and always look inside yourself to understand if you are okay and don’t pretend yes when it is not so because you only hurt yourself and you will never be able to really know yourself. Love each other so much that you don’t feel guilty for trying certain things because we are human and we are not automatons. We are imperfect and it is so beautiful, we can make mistakes a lot of times and fix it anyway because there is no standard concept of perfection, it is only in our mind and often it will be for what we will feel wrong, but know that it is not so. It’s okay if you feel that way now and it’s okay to stop for a moment when you feel you are about to burst, try not to make it too late. Take your time and listen to yourself, do what you really want and leave everything else alone for a moment and you will see that your day will completely change.
I am not made for goodbye, for tight hugs, for thanks for everything, for promises made on the doorstep of the house or at the station, for gifts, given as a token, for languid looks. I’m not made for emotionally strong experiences. Better to do with me as you do with pets, which do not have the conception of the passage of time, better tell me: see you later, even if one will come back after months, or after a day or never come back.
It is in mornings like these, slow, full of thoughts, doubts and worries, while that light breeze blows, whipping the heat of the night just passed among a thousand torments, that you realize how much life for you has always been a whirlwind of disparate emotions, so many never have the time to elaborate them fully, dragging them along like a useless ballast. I will be too emotional, I will live too intensely what happens to me, I will also take too much to heart the problems of others putting them before mine, but I still firmly and despite everything believe that this is me, and I am fine with it. Of course, it would be good not to have gastritis nervosa, but that’s another story.
Sometimes being emotional is something totally negative for us. Think about when you love so much, that emotionality comes to cover everything, inducing us to think that your story has a continuity, that it can go on even if the person we love no longer reciprocates our feeling. On the contrary, it is something totally positive. When you feel like you’re dying for a kiss. When you take his hands and smile feeling your heart beat like never before. When you make love and feel a thousand emotions follow each other. When you get excited in front of a good book. When you get attached to a character, when you recognize yourself in it. As in everything there are positive and negative aspects, but what would we be without feelings?
I’m afraid of falling in love. To go back to feeling everything for someone who probably won’t feel anything for me. I’m afraid of taking risks, of putting my heart on the line once again. I’m afraid of turning these smiles into tears, I’m afraid of becoming attached to them and then being abandoned. I’m afraid of what I feel. Of that involuntary smile when I look at you, or of the most total confusion when I sink into your blue eyes. I’m afraid of falling in love again and at the same time I have a craving crowd. The desire that keeps me awake at night thinking of you, that desire to kiss you every smile and to be with you every second. I am afraid of when I am out and I look for you. I am afraid when I do everything to see you. I’m afraid when I look at you. I’m afraid, because I know I’m about to fall in love.

MY NAME IS AMLETA

Art is his need. An instinctive need to create. An instinctive need to be and communicate one’s being to others. Affirming its existence with the creative act is the only way for Hamlet to live. Feeling such a force within oneself, an energy, an immense explosion, a storm that never settles down. A sea that is always stormy to its depths. Being a river in flood, dangerous for others, not accustomed to strong liquid currents, but a natural and splendid element for her. Art is its power. The power to create from nothing. To give life to what has never existed, which has never been seen, which has never been read. A sublime, divine, most envied power. Art feeds on souls. Art is insatiable, it is its fierce demon, and it has been walking this path all its life looking for an escape. But you never get rid of art because only art makes it free and alive. It is like a second skin and if you take it off you become skinned and you cannot live anymore. Hamlet has art in every cell, like a deadly virus, which never becomes a disease but which accompanies her throughout her life as a faithful travel companion. Art grinds the flesh, the spirit, the whole life. He raises it into the highest sky, being able to see without eyes, hear without ears, draw without using his fingers; and then makes it descend into the most terrible depths of the human abyss. Art is a miracle of life and death. Whoever possesses the gift is condemned to a parallel life. Hamlet goes in and out as if from a window. It goes in and out of itself, feeds itself to the pigs, gives its vital breath, falls apart and then begins again. Who would ever want such a life? Yet many envy it and do not know what it means to have the fire of inspiration that consumes! Art is its condemnation.
She didn’t choose to start drawing, then painting, writing and playing at the same time. A dark force took his hands, and guided his dark energy. He was thus able to empty the pain he felt while living and to enclose it within his creations. Nothing remains of that period: everything burned. Unfortunately, something was saved from his subsequent dark periods, still not gone and up in smoke. Amleta was born on a cursed island, in a sick country, and soon she got rid of her life and the pain took her far away, where she continued to suffer and create, create and destroy, herself, paintings, installations, plays, notebooks, sculptures, … Amleta creates and destroys what he creates. Hamlet is and is not at the same time. He yearns for this perennial creation and has tried several times to free himself from his prison without success. This gift, this power, this torment of colors and words, is the nectar of his days. Everything else is just a bitter side dish.

DARK PUNK

Life has always taught us ever since we met, that even the most unlikely person would leave us alone, that even the one who has always wanted to face all the battles with you can decide to fight his alone. Who knows, maybe one day we will part too, with the knowledge that we will meet again. All this repetition of abandonment on our journey has made us so detached from people, that they often wonder if we are the evil in this world. If you say that you do so much for someone, in truth you are not doing anything, sincerity is silent, therefore a sincere affection is never a “I have done everything for you and you nothing for me.” It’s sad to know that people think they have to be reciprocated and if you don’t, they make you look guilty and take on the role of the bad guy. So my friend, we are the villains of this generation, so superficial that we blame ourselves for the absence we give them when they start demanding what is not theirs. Perhaps this is the price to pay to prevent this evil from being spread. Nothing is due, everything must be deserved, if someone demands, it makes us repress all kinds of feelings. You and I got in tune to escape this monotony, but maybe in the end, it’s not people’s fault. Maybe it’s just us who are wrong, but brother, when we leave too, remember me, someone who cares about you and who you really love, we who have stained our own wings with black as a sign of our friendship.
Maybe music doesn’t change us up to that point and neither does great art. Rather, it reminds us of who we have always known we are and who we are destined to remain, despite our claims and denials. It reminds us of the milestones that we have buried and hidden and then lost, it reminds us of the people and things that mattered despite our lies, despite the years. Music is nothing more than the sound of our regrets translated into a cadence that stimulates the illusion of pleasure and hope. It is the thing that reminds us most clearly that we are here for a very short period of time and that we have neglected or deceived our lives, or worse still, we have not lived them.
The night is made for memories. It is made of memories. It is made for dreams, for dreams. Of people who are missing, whom you would like to embrace, but you cannot. The night is made to fill with thoughts everything you want, but don’t have. It is made for hidden tears. Of songs. The night is made for romantics. The night is made of shapes that threshold you.
The baby arrived home in tears. Grandpa ran up to him and took him in his arms. The baby continues to sob. Grandpa stroked him, trying to calm him down. “What have you done?” said the grandfather, worried. The child sniffed, then said: «We were playing hide and seek, and I was hiding really well. I was there waiting, but time was passing … At a certain point I went out and … I got upset that they had finished playing and had all gone home and no one had come looking for me ». The singlets shook his small chest. “Do you understand? Nobody came looking for me.”

GALAXY MOOD

Who called you to life? Where does your drawing come from? From which galaxy lost? When, why, are you coming? What theater, what scenes, what glow of the Pleistocene? Did you see the crash of milk and blood stamp your face with your name? Where have the roses gone, the nobility of defeat? Where is who invented things, the telescope, the stilt house? Where is who invented the wheel, the double basses and the trombones? Where is the one who tamed the flames, who measured the seasons? I will postpone any healthy conclusion until tomorrow, and I lock this beautiful asshole face of mine in my arms. curse!
When they were together she felt out of time. There was no longer any inconvenient past to hide, there was no future to think about and, for a moment, the present seemed like a sweet honeymoon embroidered between the meshes of space and time.

 

 

Just do it.
Wear that dress too tight.
Let your hair down.
Get up and dance.
Find reasons to laugh.
Make love.
Create something beautiful.
Speaks.
Recognize your worth.
Don’t apologize for your magic anymore and stop hiding your light.
Beloved. Forgive yourself.
Make room for the unexpected.
Stop waiting for the right time, do it now.
Ignore what people think of you.
Because in the end you will have to answer for all the things you didn’t say, the people you didn’t love, the things you didn’t do and the places you didn’t go.
Do it now.

 

LOVE IS NOT THE ANSWER

If I think back to how much love I gave to people who didn’t want it, how many disappointments I had, how much sadness and suffering, how much anticipation and anger! now it doesn’t seem true that the end of all this has come. I poured my love into hearts that did not feel, into souls that did not live. I gave myself to people dead inside, to those who did not know what it meant to love, to those who do not yet know what it means to love. I painted love in minds that just wanted not to love. I tried, tried, risked everything about myself, even my sanity, my inner well-being. And all because within me this energy needed to flow out, to be given to others, to expand, to go out and fulfill itself. After so much wandering, the unexpected landing is the best thing. Where you never thought you could find a place of peace and serenity, you arrive right there by chance, discovering that everything that was was only a prelude and to what would come after. After so much torment, so much existential fatigue, after every conflict and inner struggle, now I can say that everything has taken its place within me. That there was a total stop of that wild and dangerous flood that came out of me every time I tried to stop myself. That noisy and chaotic waterfall that poured onto the other, like an explosion of uncontrollable energy, now flows by itself in a different way. The tiger that roared inside the lotus flower has now disappeared and the lotus flower has opened and shines with light never seen before. My Tai Chi master had seen well, but it was I who couldn’t see because the times weren’t right yet. There was all that water that stirred my heart, which deprived me of that vision of myself that I still could not have. Because I was not yet ready for enlightenment. Now I understand that enlightenment can only be found if it is not sought. It comes at a time when you don’t look for it at all and you may feel you can never even get there because you are not the type, because you do not have that way of seeing or feeling. Because you are in the hell of life and you can’t think that anything else can exist. It comes at a time when the last thought of your life is to have that vision and that peace that you have always dreamed of. And only now do I understand why it is so difficult to describe it to others, why it is difficult to find the words that can describe such an inner state. It is a bit like when Buddhists try to explain that suffering does not exist and that it is only a construction of man. If I go to see what has been inside me so far, I find nothing but nothing. But it is that nothing that is stupendous, that is a whole. Because becoming nothing, becoming emptiness is a splendid thing. Nothing has become my past. There is no longer any trace of it inside me. There is no one and no thing. Everything has vanished into the nothingness that I am now. A lotus flower needs only water to grow and water is the only source it needs. Everything else no longer exists. The inner light is the only source, the rest is something that never comes. My being is aware of the journey it has made to become the Void, and the acquired well-being is extraordinary. Because my being no longer needs anything. Love, anger, life, sun, food, friendship, internet,… ..all these things seem made of smoke to me. I am like an impalpable fog inside me. No sensation comes to me from the outside but it is my being that flows and that’s enough for me. Before, the world was the fertilizer for my plant. Now my plant grows by itself, has its roots in the sky and the sap comes from the light. It does not need anything else. The void needs nothing else. My heart is still beating, it is alive, yes, but inside my heart there is only infinite light. Inside me there is only one lotus flower that blooms every day.

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