I gave away my books, to everyone, given away and given to those I thought could at least read them. At least one page, one sentence, but no one has time to read what I write. Friends and acquaintances, people who thanked, because a book has its cost, it's hard work, and a publisher should also get something out of it. I gave them away, I didn't pocket a single cent. But everyone justifies themselves by saying that they haven't had time, that they have been sick, that they recently have health problems. My books end up who knows where and I've only given them away and never asked for anything in return. Shall I call these real friends? No one has an interest in the things I do. I could disappear into thin air and they wouldn't even notice. I will never publish any books again because they don't deserve them. Tomorrow I'll burn everything.
Here we are again in that period of the year when the lights go on everywhere, the memories thicken, the shortcomings become even heavier and that sense of melancholy mixed with joy caresses your soul, supporting you for days. It is a beautiful and difficult period and the state of mind varies according to the personal journey of each of us. We have gone through very hard, difficult and distant moments from affection, hugs and certainties.
There are dull days, in which a thousand setbacks occur, in which the problems to solve, the things to do multiply, in which all the programs skip and you just have to start over. Days in which there is just enough time to stop and sigh, thinking "I can't take it anymore".
Even these days come to an end and what remains on us is a great tiredness which fortunately is accompanied by the awareness of having done everything possible. Especially when we are dealing with many people, for various reasons, it is really difficult to always understand and also always make yourself understood.
One of my wishes is to have fewer days like this or the ability, if I really have to go through them, to be able to live them with greater patience and serenity, to always carry something good with me, even when I really have to dig to find it.
Less nervousness, more smiles. Being able to cushion the impact that other people's wickedness, selfishness, lack of gratitude have on me. Because in the end the problem is this, it's me. I'm still not good, I feel like a sponge that absorbs everything.
I need someone to laugh with me at my weird way of talking to trees.
I can't remember anymore when I was happy and had fun. I whisper to the wind and the clouds.
The rain only in the evening and the blue always on the lips. I let all sorrows and disappointments land on a land without wars and I guess men are not violent.
Tonight I would like to smile for all the people who are here and whom time has left on my way like precious flowers.
You are all often the only eyes I see in the darkness of this war. I am very fragile but you give me a lot of strength and support and I thank you all for being here.
You are beautiful flowers on the street and I see you and find my peaceful silence.
THANK YOU SO MUCH.
Sometimes you realize that time passes and so do people, friends and years. Friends can be compared to a train, the train passes you went on it until your stop arrives and you get off and you are sure that one day you will never get on it again, then there are the trains that you miss those trains that could have made you different life, even just for a day or even for an hour, they get lost like a lighter, a hat, a photo or even like losing sleep, but sooner or later another train passes, you buy another lighter, buy another hat, and take another photo, even if you are aware that it will never be like the one before, people leave lagoons, memories, moments, unanswered questions, emotions.
Sometimes you just want to be hugged and reminded that you're not alone, but you've become so good at hiding your feelings that by now you don't understand what you really feel, hate?, resentment?, happiness?
The human mind is sensational all those various nuances, that way of seeing through things, those various memories stuck together as if they were a puzzle, the various memories you carry inside, broken hearts, emotions never felt, people never faced.
There are moments that grow and together with them you grow too, you learn to be arrogant and without a heart, then they ask you why and why you've reduced yourself to all this, but you know it's useless to try to explain it would be just words thrown away case because I can't find a logical thread either, so you keep smiling and repeat: "everything is fine, don't worry"
And then there are days when you can’t keep your thoughts at bay, the most hidden, the deepest and the worst. They go out like this, suddenly, when you least expect it, maybe while you are singing a song in the car at the top of your lungs with your friends, while you walk, study, drive, while you kiss your boyfriend, they can go out like this, without warning, wake up or reminder to hold and take your head and heart hostage indefinitely. And you are there, helpless, you let yourself be enveloped by these paranoia and you bind yourself to them as if they were certainties. They don’t make you sleep, they don’t make you eat or they make you overeat, they make you feel blame for who you are and what you are not. And you stay there, you listen to them like a mantra that repeats itself in a loop in your head. After all, you cannot escape from yourself.
I am not even 30 years old, but in this life span millions of people have passed in front of me. Some of them were dance and drinking companions for a night and I never saw them again, others accompanied me for a short journey of my journey, some of them are simply acquaintances and still others are friends. I spent my life in the midst of people, I saw the thousand facets, the particularity of each one and I still believed I had "understood" it. Then by pure chance I know a person, we've never seen each other, never spent time together, I don't know his expressions, we hardly even know the tone of our voices, we write to each other. We talk a lot and I am amazed. I found qualities never seen before, I discovered sincere and disinterested listening and kindness. A whole life in the midst of people and never anyone who was able to really look at me and then a person arrives behind a screen and manages to read my soul, gave me hope, carefree, courage and the desire to fight. This post will surely be read by him too, so I wanted to take the opportunity to thank him with a phrase taken from the text of "The Messenger by Linkin Park" .. When life leaves us blind, love makes us kind, it keeps us kind.
ENIGMA ... Why this word?
Don't you ever think that in the end life is like a huge question?
A question to which there is no exact answer
or a wrong answer ..
A question to which each one of us gives an answer,
but without having the possibility of being certain
whether that answer is correct or incorrect.
At some point you realize how in all the years you've been through,
you have done nothing but ask yourself questions ..
To improve yourself or maybe to help some friends
or for anything else.
It's always a question ...
We fell asleep in one world, and woke up in another.
Suddenly Disney is out of magic,
Paris is no longer romantic,
New York no longer stands up,
the Chinese wall is no longer a fortress, and the prairie is empty.
Hugs and kisses suddenly become weapons, and not visiting parents and friends becomes an act of love.
Suddenly you realize that power, beauty and money are worthless and cannot get you the oxygen you are fighting for.
The world continues its life and it is beautiful. It only puts humans in cages. I think it's sending a message to every human being: “You don't need to. The air, the earth, the water and the sky are fine without you. When you return, remember that you are my guests. Not my masters ”.
When the epidemic ends, it cannot be ruled out that there are those who will not want to return to their previous life. Awareness of the fragility and transience of life will spur men and women to set new priorities. To better distinguish between what is important and what is futile. To understand that time – and not money – is the most precious resource. Who, being able, will leave a job that for years has suffocated and oppressed him. Who decides to leave the family, to say goodbye to their spouse or partner. To give birth to a child, or not to want children. To come out. There will be those who will begin to believe in God and those who will stop believing in him. There will be those who, for the first time, will question the choices made, the sacrifices, the compromises. On the loves that he did not dare to love. About the life he didn’t dare to live. Men and women will wonder why they waste their lives on relationships that cause them bitterness. There will also be those who will revise their political views, based on anxieties or values that will disintegrate during the epidemic. There will be those who will doubt the reasons that lead a people to fight against an enemy for generations, to believe that war is inevitable. It is possible that an experience as hard and profound as the one we are living leads someone to reject nationalistic positions, for example, everything that divides us, alienates us, leads us to hate, to barricade ourselves.
The speed of the contagion of our change scares me.
The virulence of the spread of our fear terrifies me.
Tremble at the sound of the doorbell.
Startled at the sight of someone on the street.
Start thinking about life before, a first that has recently passed.
Hiding from the world, finally safe inside these empty and silent rooms.
But are we really that powerful?
But are we really that capable?
Resilient?
Changing?
Are we really so capable of forgetting?
What was it, who were we?
Because if so, really so, we can sleep peacefully and even dream that everything will be fine.
Because if so, really so, we can hope and smile confidently looking at the starless night from a still lit window.
Because if it is so, really so, one day, that day, we will go out on the street running without being afraid of being afraid of the other.
If so, that day, we will suddenly remember.
And, suddenly, we will recover from this disease.
We will be so powerful that we will embrace each other without shaking.
And then, only then, will we finally be healed.
I saw you again and I didn’t come to meet you. You were my best friend and now I don’t even know who you are anymore, I don’t know what you do, I don’t know if you’re engaged, I don’t know if you cry, I don’t know if you and your mother have made peace. We said goodbye in silence, when I greeted you I knew it would be for the last time. Nobody, you know, has ever said goodbye to me without my knowing it before, maybe I pretended not to, but I knew very well when the end had begun. It was with you when I told you that I had met a man and in the following months I have not cried for any quarrel I had with him. I didn’t call you to tell you he was a jerk, as he usually did. When you asked me how he was doing with him, I replied that it was okay, that for once, I had nothing to tell. I didn’t have the classic stories from “he didn’t call me and then I didn’t call him either and now we haven’t heard from each other for days”. It’s okay, I told you. It’s not possible, you replied. You believed that my good was also fiction, that I was lying to myself, that it was not me and I agreed with you “you will see that one day we would be here talking about it, about yet another man with mental disorders that I had”. But the days turn into months. And the months became twelve. And in that year I changed, changed for him you insinuated, my red hair had become blonde, my clothes were completely different. And instead, if we were still friends, you would have had proof of how wrong you were. You would have seen me buy six bottles of shower gel with the smell he hates, because it doesn’t matter, I like them. You would have seen me save money for a tattoo that he didn’t call too good. You would have known that when he told me he prefers blond I went to get myself a copper red tint. You would have known that I have a skirt that he defines as an old woman. I have always remained of the opinion that the best shopping you can do is with a friend. You never understood that he would never take your place. You did not understand that if they had asked me which “forever” I believed, I would have answered, without a doubt, between two friends and not between two boyfriends. I really believed in it when I told you that I wanted to share a house with you, so similar to me. And a thousand times I told you that if you wanted to talk over a coffee, Saturday would never be sacred to me. I would never have been the one of “I can’t on Saturdays” but “now we organize ourselves”. We had been friends for ten years and no man would ever replace that friendship. But you decided it wasn’t true and I have too much dignity to beg for love and friendship from a person who doesn’t want me anymore. And so gradually, our conversations became colder, almost circumstantial. I never looked for you and you did the same to me. The worst of clichés. But I don’t forget and I will never be mad at you. I will be nostalgic. There have been too many good things between us to make me angry. There are calls that lasted hours, I was on my cell phone, I hate it, so much alone with you. There have been whole afternoons at the Castello Sforzesco, walking through the park in autumn, not knowing how to dress in spring, complaining about the heat and then watching the snow. For years, many years. I saw you cut your long hair into short and then regret it. I felt you tired with a job that took you all day and I was close to you when you were without a job and you felt sad. I saw you in love with a wrong man and I didn’t tell you anything, I waited for you to notice. I would have been there. We spent the New Year in a taxi because, as usual, we had made up our minds on what to do at the last minute. We spent another New Year among the people and the following New Year instead at your house watching movies. You were there when they told me on the phone that my fears were correct and that he was cheating on me. You saw me change, not a man, you saw me completely lost after my first relationship and then you saw me completely lucid and merciless at the umpteenth relationship gone bad. You were there with me in the disco and you were there when our evenings became quieter and the evening ended with an aperitif and it was no longer going on all night. It was you, not a man. No boyfriend would take your place. I didn’t come to meet you because I didn’t want to destroy what was left of you.
Once upon a time, in a far away country, there was a dragon. A dragon like many others at first glance but you will soon understand that something about him was different.
Like any self-respecting dragon, it spit flames and like other dragons, it was covered with scales to armor it and "armed" with claws to attack and defend itself. But he wasn't as fierce and aggressive as he seemed to see him. Unpredictable perhaps.
It had almost a human soul, along with an animal one.
One day, an evil witch, for lack of more talented dragons, had to rely on him to guard a beautiful princess kidnapped in a nearby kingdom. The witch imprisoned the beautiful princess and put the dragon to guard the tower prison so that no one could approach her.
The dragon swore to the evil witch that no knight or prince would ever take that princess away with him, at the cost of his own life. And it didn't seem true to the dragon that he had a beautiful princess to defend and take care of. "Just me, thought the dragon, as unpredictable and out of the ordinary as I am!" His mind immediately began to dream of the battles he would have fought against untamed knights.
The first morning, upon awakening, the princess turned to him sweetly: "Good morning dragon, will you be watching over me then?"The dragon, hearing those words and for the first time that enchanting sound of the voice, was silent. Almost petrified. He was unable to utter a single word. He felt for the first time something between his throat and stomach, a melancholy he had never felt up to that moment. She was beautiful! Her sweetness was something she didn't believe could have existed. There was nothing so beautiful.
Thus began a beautiful story between the dragon and the princess. Time passed and a harmony was created between them that at times seemed inexplicable, also due to the nature of their being.
Weeks and months went by. Dragon and princess became friends. No, much more than friends. They felt it themselves, but neither of them had the courage to confide it to the other. On the other hand, it was a fairy tale and dragon and princess cannot live together. They both didn't quite understand this feeling and where it might lead them.
The dragon waited anxiously for the morning, only to see the princess open her eyes and hear that sweet "Good morning dragon ..."
They joked, laughed, played and talked. Yes, they talked a lot and about everything. Of what their past had been and how they imagined their future. But while the princess dreamed of a life with a prince, because the fairy tale wanted that, the dragon dreamed of it with her. Poor dragon, he had fallen madly in love ...
"Certainly not, thought the dragon, otherwise why in her dreams, am I not there?" It certainly did not take a witch, who read in a crystal ball, to know that this princess could not be his. She was destined for a prince.
But he dreamed and his dreams kept him alive. He knew it was a matter of time and that one day, someone would come and try to take her away!
Unfortunately, this was the reality. Or rather, fairytales and society are this and the poor dragon knew it. He knew he was determined, ready for anything, but perhaps not so strong to stop the knight he would have to face sooner or later in a duel. He was afraid of losing her. Fear that that day would come. Let him come who would snatch it from him.He had mentioned this to the princess, because he did not want to see her suffer and did not want to lose her: “Look, not all knights turn out to be princes. Especially in the soul and heart. Many assume only their appearance. They wear masks and shining armor, they prove themselves good, they write letters with trite phrases, thoughts felt and copied from the minds of other knights. And are you sure that a prince will be able to make you really happy? "
The princess looked down, but she felt she wanted her knight, her prince. She was convinced that this would be her great love, despite the fact that the dragon gave her all the security and happiness she needed. But which she evidently believed was not enough.
And that day came. That knight arrived in front of the princess's tower, that knight he had feared so much. That knight ready to challenge him and take away the princess, who, looking out of the tower window, was finally happy. He noticed it. And he saw his eyes full of joy greet that knight!
Why, thought the dragon, why is he so happy to run away with a stranger? Why didn't her eyes look at me the same way? Why didn't he believe in my love? " A series of questions that he could not answer and now there was not even time to think. He had to fight and enforce the oath made to the witch! He realized that he was ready to die in order not to see her go away with someone else. Also because his heart would have died anyway.
For the first time, the dragon found himself in a fight. It really should be said that he fought like a dragon, with fire, claws and tail swings! But nothing to do, the knight's sword and shield made the difference and, in the end, the dragon had to succumb to his opponent. But it was not the wounds inflicted by the knight that hurt him so much, but seeing the princess running towards him, hugging and kissing the stranger.
Nothing was comparable to the pain he would never want to feel again. No physical suffering could have come close to that experienced at that moment.
But fairytales are like that. He was the dragon destined to perish and she, the princess destined for her brave knight. And he, poor dragon, was certainly no exception.
Now the days followed one another, sad, and the poor dragon was now defending a tower without a princess. There was no moment when he didn't think about her and how she was spending her time. He hoped he would come back. At least once in a while, to alleviate his absence, even if it was "just" a simple dragon. She would have liked to better explain all her love to him. Those words that he had never been able to say completely. Until the end. It would have been enough for him to hear even his "Good morning" in the morning. And to see those beautiful eyes open to be a happy dragon. But she wanted more. The company and love of a dragon would not have been enough for her.
He had lost all hope of seeing her when one day, from a distance, he saw her on the path that led to the tower. It was her!!! He couldn't hold back the joy. She had come back to him !! Little did he care that she was gone, he was too happy to think about it. He had already forgiven her even before he saw her! He took off and reached her making her climb gently on her back, laying down on the ground.She walked over to him, and hugged him tightly. Nothing could be like that embrace and nothing could be more powerful. He didn't understand what was happening to him, but he felt a strange liquid leaking from his eyes. He had heard of "tears", but he wasn't sure they were those, because they said they only came out of his eyes when he was sick. And he was happy instead! He was the happiest dragon in the world !! Of one thing he was sure, those tears would be able to put out even the mightiest flames of any dragon in the Shire.
She hugged him again. For many more times after that day.
The princess told the dragon what happened and how different that knight had been. The dragon held her tight and over time trained to become even stronger and to protect her from other knights who would come in front of the tower to take her away. The next day, he saw her still a little sad, he hugged her and said:
“I will never be a knight or a prince, but I swear that I will give you all of myself, and I swear that I will always be there for you and that you will always have a place in this tower to feel at home. Yes, of course, this tower will never be a palace or a castle and I will never be a prince, but what I will give you, no one else, will ever be able to give you. This is the only thing I can promise you my princess! "
She hugged him tightly and again that liquid substance came out of the dragon's eyes. And for a moment, he was pretty sure the princess had wet eyes too. The princess was different now, she seemed to worry about "her" dragon and with every winged reconnaissance turn, she would tell him: "Be careful, come back soon." And he was happy with those words. Happy that "his" princess cared about him.Their life flowed together, joking, laughing and talking about everything. The dragon knew that he was not in the princess's dreams and that perhaps there never would be. But he was happy anyway. Glad she was there with him.
It all lasted until another knight arrived.
And everything was repeated as the previous time. The fight, the pain of the dragon, she who goes away with him, he who was not what he seemed to be and ... She who returns to him again and hugs him.
And so it happened for other times. She slowly began to realize that no knight was as beautiful as her dragon and that no one would ever love her so much. He believed he was finally happy. But not completely. Until, he came ... Well, he was different from the other knights. He had a white horse, he was handsome, blond hair and blue eyes, just like his suit. Yes, it was him. It was prince charming. The one feared by all the dragons in the world.
The princess saw him from the window of her tower and was immediately struck, fascinated. He was not like the others, and this the dragon immediately warned him.
The dragon was afraid of losing her, just like the first time. He knew that if he was defeated, he certainly would never see her again. This was a prince, he was not like the other knights.And then, he turned that fear of hers into anger. He fought with all his strength and, the prince, never would have believed in his life to fight against a dragon so strong and fearsome. It almost seemed like she had something personal with him. The dragon pleaded with him: “Go away !! She is my princess! Don't take it away from me! Get out!! You won't love her half of what I love her and you won't give her half the attention I will! "
The prince could see the anger in the dragon's eyes, his fear of losing the princess. It was an incredible duel. Both arrived exhausted, but as in all respected fairy tales, even in this one, the prince was victorious and the dragon defeated. The beautiful princess went away with her prince, this time not before looking one last time at that dragon lying on the ground, exhausted from the fight. The dragon felt as though his heart had been ripped out. And this time, looking into her eyes again, he was sure he saw a tear streak down the princess's face as she looked at him for the last time. The dragon, with the last strength he had left, took and flew away, to hide his tears.
After several years, the dragon is no longer the witch's slave and watches over her princess, prince and their son from afar. He will always watch over them and especially her. About that woman who could not live and who, like in fairy tales, was destined for another life.Now I could conclude this story with the prince and princess who "... and lived happily ever after". No, because this is not a fairy tale like any other. And happiness is not enclosed in a "happily ever after". Happiness is something else.
And the princess noticed it too, every day that passed and every evening at sunset, when she left her castle for a moment. She looked at the horizon, while a tear streaked her beautiful face, always hoping to be able to see that dragon to which she had given her heart and with that dream of being kidnapped by her only love. The Dragon! She who is now sure that she has always loved him, but that all the fairy tales of this world have always prevented her from doing.
In short, rich or poor, sooner or later you will be plagued by this uselessness of time. You will be bored by your work, by friends, by husbands, wives, or lovers, by the view from the window of your home, from the furniture or upholstery of your room, from your thoughts, from yourself. Consequently, you will be looking for escape routes. Aside from the tools of self-gratification mentioned above, perhaps you will begin to change jobs, residences, friendships, country, climate; perhaps you will indulge in sexual promiscuity, alcohol, travel, cooking lessons, drugs, psychoanalysis. In fact, you could put all these things together; and for a while the combination could work. Until, of course, you wake up in your room with a new family and a different wallpaper, in another state, in another climate, with a lot of bills to pay to your travel agent or psychoanalyst, yet with the same prohibits the sensation of the daylight that spreads to the window. And you will put on your slippers only to find that those are not the most suitable footwear to escape from what you recognize as familiar. And depending on your temperament or age, you will panic or resign yourself to familiarity with that feeling, or, once more, you will go through the process of change.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 