Whenever you come across a nice person you are faced with an amazing effort, a huge commitment, you are faced with a person who works on himself continuously, a worker of the heart who works night shifts on behalf of everyone you are in front of a person who never escapes, who manages to put care even in his distraction, who has learned to cause silence when offered to her a provocation remember that you are in front of it a story full of stories, long walks in the countryside of villages that we don’t even know how to pronounce, you have in front of you, a person who does not fear loneliness, who has learned to be alone to become an island to be alone who took his break a lifeline which he made of his salvation an anchor for others you stand in front of it to those who have known despair in person but she did not despair, that has disappeared from everyone, scattered everywhere, depended on no one, dispensation of the world whenever you come across a nice person thank life toast to the universe bow to the sun invents a Sunday throw a party you are in front of a work of art extremely fragile like the canvas of a painting, definitely immortal like a painting.Fragility is part of me, this is true; I feel very emotional and sensitive, able to grasp details that normally people are not able to fully grasp. Even those details are fragile: those little pieces of the world that no one sees, perhaps hidden by the shadow of chaos and lack of time … I see them, and I appreciate them. I see the fragility of the spider web after it has rained, when the droplets of rain run down the threads … I see how easily it could snap, and I sigh, hoping it doesn’t. I am so fragile that when I see a bee, or a hornet, or any insect that could hurt me, that is drowning in a basin, I bend down and pick it up with my hands, because I know it won’t hurt me, because in that moment we are both fragile. At that moment we both suffer. I can’t explain more clearly the sense of fragility around me, but know that wherever you look, in everything you see, there is always a crack, a delicate edge, something that if you look even more carefully, you will find fragile. almost as fragile as you are.
Some things can’t be explained, they just happen. Walls become invisible, secret passages are discovered that lead to enchanted places, downhill roads and beautiful eyes look at you in another way, which are discovered, leaving souls free to capture. Two people find themselves starting to walk a notch above everyone, on a level road whose only obstacle is themselves. I, who can find the negative side even in the right, beautiful, beautiful things, I am not a bearer of light. I live instead in the darkness, in the maze of a glorious past, of golden years that I will never relive, stardust scattered in the sky. it is no longer a question of finding a solution to the mistakes I have made, but a way to rise from those I will commit, always the same, always the same, I will never change. there are mechanisms that are now embedded in my brain and only great inner revolutions will be able to scratch them, revolutions that I do not feel will happen soon. upheavals. like first love. my dealing badly with things starts from there or even from before. I’m not a positive, but that’s not it either. remote traumas still manage to manipulate today’s behaviors. and I can’t open up, I feel that no one is worth it, I don’t even try, I act so hard but in reality it’s all a continuous breaking, a preventive fragility. how do you heal from something that makes you breathe and is so ingrained in you? Something that gives you the only creative power to survive pain. How you heal from something you have in the ventricles of the heart. I always look to the sun, but only God knows, how much I am a timid moon.
I, who can find the negative side even in the right, beautiful, beautiful things, I am not a bearer of light. I live instead in the darkness, in the maze of a glorious past, of golden years that I will never relive, stardust scattered in the sky. it is no longer a question of finding a solution to the mistakes I have made, but a way to rise from those I will commit, always the same, always the same, I will never change. there are mechanisms that are now embedded in my brain and only great inner revolutions will be able to scratch them, revolutions that I do not feel will happen soon. upheavals. like first love. my dealing badly with things starts from there or even from before. I’m not a positive, but that’s not it either. remote traumas still manage to manipulate today’s behaviors. and I can’t open up, I feel that no one is worth it, I don’t even try, I act so hard but in reality it’s all a continuous breaking, a preventive fragility. how do you heal from something that makes you breathe and is so ingrained in you? how do you heal from something in your head and above all that only you know? I always look to the sun, but only God knows, how much I am a shy moon.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 