COME AS YOU ARE

HALF SECOND

The time I gathered your clothes

while you were swimming in the lake and I was trying

to dissuade you, the waters muddy

and the wind blowing on the surface

and it brought me a faint scent

of your breath, I have not found

the simple courage to undress

and to follow you, I have always been

by all the lakes to wait.

Because the lake brings life down, it attracts me

as if the liquid stream was there just for me.

And my love stops me from dying in that part of the lake

where I'm not basically like you.

YOU’RE MY DILEMMA

I have seen so many ugly realities, so much blood, violence, children growing up without parents, appreciating the value of freedom, knowing how painful it is when they take it away from you. Here I have always seen a lot of love, loyalty, family, humility, education. I had to know what I can go up against on the one hand to understand that there are those who have fought so much to ensure that I can be free forever. I know where I’m from but I also know who I can be. You have seen certain things only in movies, yet you sin of presumption and rudeness continuously. I looked into your eyes and listened to you talk about your fears, your goals and your past, I watched your reactions as I talked to you about me and the period of shit I’m going through, but although I know things you haven’t said no one else thinks of her before sleeping, because she is sweet and unlike me in bed with you she came immediately. I’m 24 and I’ve always wondered what my biggest secret is, in short, everyone has one right? I also have mine, but finding something that only I knew, something that I had never really told anyone, not even the closest people, seemed difficult to me, and in short, nothing that could boast of the importance of this name! But tonight I understood it and it’s as if I saw myself inside, it was such a bad thing that I probably didn’t want to think about it, convincing myself that it wasn’t and almost forgetting.
Luna doesn’t just show your best side You look great alone you know what love is ” “Luna, you only speak to those in love Who knows how many songs they have already dedicated to you ” The best way to start this post is by quoting some lines from Gianni Togni’s song ‘Luna’ A song about love even if hidden behind the apparent description of the moon shining in the night sky This post is aimed to all those who at least once raised their eyes to the night sky and enchanted themselves in observing the stars, thought without even realizing it of a special person to all those who have imagined that at the same time that person was observing the sky and it does not matter if physically close or far away to all those who have confided their greatest secrets and desires to the moon to all those who, with a full moon, return a little child to the memory of stories or television series in which the moon was the main part of the plot To all of us romantic dreamers. I wanted to tell you that more than once I have listened to songs thinking of you and I wondered if you think of me too when you listen to that song Sometimes you enter my mind without asking permission messing everything up Sometimes they ask me why you who were the least suitable person I don’t know how to answer him I think about you, even if I don’t want to And I would like to throw away your memory I think of the thousand ways it could have ended But in the end I think it was better for both of us to get lost.
After all we are scorpions. We love death, we symbolize rebirth, we must die ourselves to get up again. We scorpions look so small and cute, but we know how to sting and sometimes we don’t even do it intentionally. We are the governors of the mystery, we live by this, we live by curiosity and magic. Of shadow and fog. This darkness pervades us. We are intuition, sixth sense, sensations. We are revenge and passion, because we have feelings that swim in deep waters, they are never superficial. This sometimes makes us suffer terribly and we prefer to take our pain out on ourselves. Everyone considers us the most insidious, grumpy and “ugly” zodiac sign. The truth? We like to hear it and laugh because we are the mystery you haven’t solved yet. I wish that at 23:59 you could shout what you want to people especially those to whom we do not have the courage to say the simplest and most beautiful phrases like i love you, i love you, i stay this year too … for the simple fear of ruining everything. Here if we could do it at that time it would be easier because they are all drunk, they are all high, maybe people do not even listen and therefore you would not be afraid of losing someone just because you reveal your feelings to them. you feel about him or her. Instead it is not feasible and you are left with the weight on your stomach or heart. Because people remember why unfortunately we don’t have a year cancel button even if we wanted to. In a year there is a lot of bullshit in love, in friendship, at school and in the family but if we had the possibility to reset everything it would be better but we do not pass from one year to another but from one simple day to another, we pass from 23:59 to 00:00 to 00:01 celebrating changes that we hope will come true like magic, changes that, however, if we don’t roll up our sleeves and keep fighting, they won’t come true.

RUNAWAY

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.

FINGERS OF NATURE

It is fascinating. Nature is wonderful, she has managed to create beautiful things by herself, of perfect symmetry, all so calculated and precise. The leaves, the flowers, us, even if not perfectly. But it’s all calculated right? We were created to be imperfect and however we try to achieve perfection we will never be, neither physically nor morally. What then, who decides that something is perfect or imperfect? Which is right or wrong? What is good or bad? Who is stupid or smart? What is weird or normal? What is it that really makes it so? It’s just our idea. So theoretically symmetry does not exist and exists. Perfection does not exist and exists. All in contrast with everything. The stars are fascinating. They are very large, much larger than our planet and yet they are there, bright dots that shine in the sky, a hint of color in the dark, forming constellations, forming dreams, galaxies, galaxies of dreams. They are there in the sky, so far away, so close, that if you put yourself on your toes, it seems that you can touch them with your hand, but you cannot. The water, what the hell, is beautiful. The surface tension, its clarity, its necessity. But I don’t understand why nature hasn’t made it available to everyone. Then the matter, that everything is made up of everything.
There is no end of matter, a thing created first of all. The universe, which cannot be infinite, come on, everything has an end. Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring, Life, The Earth, Stories, Kisses, Friendships, Loves, Roads, Travels, Holidays, Nights, Days, Weeks , Months, years, sheets, notebooks, the most beautiful books, everything. And the numbers? How can they be infinite? They are not. There are many combinations, Infinite, But we manage to pronounce them up to a certain point, then we start with the astronomical unit, with the light years. And then nature has given us everything, even the possibility of hurting ourselves, it is up to us to choose what to do, it has made us totally free. Have you ever thought about all this? To fate? Exists? In my opinion, yes. A story written somewhere. Two people destined to meet, two people who will fail together, but not alone, two people who together will overcome everything. A person destined to be born to change the world, a savior on this unjust and infamous planet. But who created all this? And remember that the case does not exist, it is not that one day two planets decided by CASE to collide and create the Earth, right? You see, it’s all so wonderful, fascinating, twisted. All so beautifully beautiful.

THE HUGH OF A FRIEND

When a hug that means everything is worth a thousand words; a moment that knows of eternity, that you did not think possible and that upsets you inside, caressing the Dream while it is being fulfilled, with a heart that goes crazy and with a mind that imprisons sounds and flavors so as not to forget even a second of the Felicity experienced, that it gives that precise meaning to that incomprehensible feeling that cannot be explained but only lived, with those strong and warm long-desired arms that give protection against the logics that rage in the world.

NOBODY KNOWS

First the shyness, being a kind of ornament, cute, harmless, useful, immersed in my parallel world, in which only my vision of things was true. A world in which I could not be disappointed. Nobody would hurt me, I was a totally self-sufficient being, satisfied with the little things, independent of people because it was like that, it had to be like that. The study on friendship, my beliefs on reality. Then the awareness, realizing that my strength was my weakness, had created a void, made up of forced friendships, of people ignored. I realized that I had built an image that hid the real me from anyone, everything I was in addition to a studio machine or a perfect daughter. Maybe I was still nothing beyond that, and I wasn’t hiding anything, I simply hadn’t given space to everything I thought was “surrounding”. I tried to recover. In part, I grew up, I opened myself to others, to those who were willing to listen to me, now that I was willing to build something.
We continually seek the company of others, in fact we are not able to be alone with silence. In the silence our fears, our anxieties, and our truest self emerge, which we nevertheless repudiate as if it were the most disgusting substance. I don’t know if the hatred we feel towards ourselves is something we have learned or that is innate in us, but it persists despite everything, indeed, whoever claims to love himself the most is the one who hates himself the most. Narcissists cannot listen to silence, as they have learned to ignore it. The less fortunate learn to hate each other without knowing the reasons, while some have to live with their own suffering in continually admitting the existence in themselves of dark places that are unbearable for everyone. The existence of man is a continuous escape from his own essence, since we are born without the means to contain our fullness.
I can’t define my state of mind. It’s strange. It is as if I were totally normal, but at the same time I couldn’t help but think about this situation, which is both uncomfortable and fascinating at the same time. I lose my eyes in the void, even if to others it does not seem that it is distracting me. Or maybe I hope they don’t understand. I look at myself from the outside to try to understand something, but I don’t even know where I want to go, if I want to go all the way, or if it’s all an illusion, and what I’m thinking makes no sense. It probably is, although you find people here and there confirming that they are reality, these thoughts will remain imagination.

IN CASE OF FRIENDSHIP STAY AWAY

Friendship is when you feel like telling all your thoughts. When you finally believe that someone can welcome you. But not everyone is capable of welcoming.
Why? Because maybe they are more messed up than you but they don’t tell you.
Because if you think your life is useless, they think of themselves even worse.
So leave them alone.
Men are always busy. Women are always busy.
Friendship is a robotic function of your buggy brain.
Why do you still believe that human beings hesitate but instead here they are, here they are human beings.
Did you know that they are all aliens like you, what did you expect?
Friendship is underground.
It cannot exist between man and woman.
Either he falls in love or she falls in love.
And you don’t like love.
You prefer the ocean.
It is better to look at all different waves than human beings who are all alike.
Could someone have done something?
Yes, someone could have held out a hand but didn’t.
Then rest in peace, sweet friendship.

SNOW FLOWER AND THE SECRET FAN

China, nineteenth century. Two girlsSnow Flower a White Lily, become linked for eternity with the Laotong rite, after sharing the practice of foot wrapping.

In the situation of isolation of the women of the time, the two friends will begin to communicate with a language unknown to men, the nü shu (女 书), through the folds of the Snow Flower fan.
Shanghai, today's times. The descendants of Snow  Flower and White Lily, two girls who have been friends since childhood, Sophia Liao and Nina Wei, bond with the Laotong ritual through a CD by singer Faye Wong. The various events of life will separate them and then discover that their union will transcend time.
The bandaging was a ritual that mothers imposed on their daughters, between four and five years of age, with the aim of changing the shape of the feet. In this way they would have remained small, about seven / eight centimeters, and would have assumed a pointed shape.
Unfortunately, there were also less fortunate girls, who did not survive due to the resulting infections and gangrene.
Furthermore, having deformed feet was an investment in marriage and in the possibility of social ascent, since marrying such girls was a sign of prosperity.

The only women who did not follow the practice were those of the Hakka ethnic group, very poor, and the fisherwomen, as they needed normal feet to be able to balance their weight on the boats.
The shoes used by women with golden lilies, compared with a hand. (Photo and hand by Amanda Foreman)

EVERYTHING N FIRE

It's true I often burned my paintings, notebooks, books, I burned to forget that I was an artist. To forget the power to create from nothing. It was exhilarating, demeaning, tiring, it was destructive to me too. But my life was fire, fire lit every day. Now there is not even the ash left. I have burned souls, I have burned whole nights, burned words and loves. All together incinerated in a moment of sublime beauty. The green fire.
My green fire guided me. It was night, it was day and for me it was always life. But it doesn't burn forever. Eventually we turn off.
Eventually the coal becomes blacker. Very black. You find it in the walls, inside your inner walls, and you always get dirty every color you try to trace on your door. But Black crosses the threshold, reaches you, takes everything, burns you completely.
She was the one in the photo, holding a bouquet of flowers and a red hen’s crest on her head. It was she who acted among the frightened girls. Hamlet hadn’t hesitated either in his gestures or in his voice. And she continued to play a role that was not hers: the good girl who goes out of her way to meet her father’s expectations. A studious pupil, a caring daughter. Never any drift or dangerous friendship. Never any friends who are too annoying or a boyfriend who is too jealous. Never any of that. Only music and art, mixed with the tears that often bathed his pillow. He loved his mom and dad. He went out of his way to make them happy. And her little sister also loved and often played with her and never teased her. Growing up he had kept that naive and innocent look, that beautiful vivacity of one who has not known evil. Yet Hamlet knew evil from an early age, when a man took her innocence. Her nightmares were frequent and she did not know who that man was and she could never see his face. Maybe it was the shadow that appeared in her paintings or maybe she lived next to it without knowing that her executioner was the one who fed her. The executioner was always present. The executioner who had destroyed her at the age of 4.
The needs of an artist are different from all those of others. Of course an artist eats, sleeps, goes to the bathroom. He may have things and people he cares a lot about. May have interests and hobbies. But one thing distinguishes him profoundly from all other people: the need for stimulation. An artist feeds his art from himself and from what he sees, knows and experiences. Visual, mental and empirical stimuli are deeply necessary for every artist because in the absence of these his creative lymph dries up. In fact, if an artist is not put in the conditions of being able to have these stimuli that satisfy his needs, he will slowly fade away. His imagination, not being nourished, will become dry and will find it difficult to give him the input for artistic creation. Just as an animal dies in its instincts if placed inside a cage, an artist dies in his creative life if he is put in conditions that are not favorable to the expression of his artistic talent. Fantasy is like a plant and must be fed with the water of stimuli. If these are lacking, the substance for dreams is missing. It lacks the energy itself to create other dreams and other works. So for this reason it is sometimes said that an artist cannot live life like the others and the same things that others are enough cannot be enough for him.

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