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.

SMARSHMELLOW GIRLS

Society has labeled women that is anywhere fro 10 pounds overweight, fat, plus size, chubby, thick, curvy and any other derogatory term to describe a woman who doesn’t fit the image of what Hollywood and glamour magazines call attractive and perfect women.

Usually when the word Japanese girls comes into our minds, we would picture a skinny and small figure but there’s a sad truth behind their skinny figure. Society has discriminated those who are not “skinny” but rather on the chubby side. In the other parts of the world, being chubby is a normal thing but in Japan, they don’t approve of women being chubby. The ones that are on the heavy side are being called debu which means fatso online and even in front of them.
Netizens have invented a new nickname for the chubby ladies which will change the people’s attitudes towards them. They’re now called as the “marshmallow girls”!
Did you know that chubby girls are also cute? Mr. Saichu, who has a tummy fetish, had commented how society is against fatties. Sometimes they get criticized for lacking self-discipline or neglecting to maintain a balanced diet which is the reason why they got fat. But to him, a chubby girl’s stomach has a some sort of marshmallow feel to it. Mr. Saichu thinks that  “marshmallow girl” is a cute name that might lessen the tension that is being thrown at them.
A “Marshmallow Girl” model, Goto Seina, was introduced in a magazine as a “marshmallow girl”. She spoke positively about the term in her blog. She said, “It’s something that makes me really happy.” Being called a Marshmallow girl is a positive name for those girls who are on the bigger side but not to extremely fat. “Marshmallow Girl” can be in the middle!

LUNATIC GIRL

I love myself as I am.
With strengths and weaknesses.
Black days and rainbows.
Paranoia and insecurities.
Crooked moons and bipolarity.
Logorrheic and despotic.
Break boxes and always on his.
But above all, always myself.
She was no ordinary woman, one with a nice pair of legs, a nice breast, a nice butt or a particular face, I don’t even know if she was really aesthetically beautiful. She had the wrinkles of her years, of her experiences, an angular character, she was complex, almost shy, twisted … Yet she was so beautiful in her doing, in her love, in her infinite being. In everything he did you found hidden all his charm, he had on him the wild scent of freedom, dreams, concreteness, passion. She was not perfect, on the contrary she was moody, at times unpleasant and yet, in every defect, in every excess there was the essence of her being “perfect” because “bastardly sincere”. No, she was definitely not an ordinary woman, her heart extended towards infinity, infinite as the sea is, as the universe is and as deep as the ocean. Yes, he had all the wrinkles of his years, that stubborn, almost unshakable character, he didn’t mince words, often beaten down but never defeated. It was enough for itself, it made sure it was enough. Life had “given” her a lot of tears, but she went on finding a way to dry them by herself. Yes, she was a woman, complicated … a tangle of woman. Call her beautiful? Yes, beautiful, complex and mysterious She had to be stripped from the inside, taken and dragged without asking too many questions, because too many questions would not be answered in words. She had a head, heart and soul and she wasn’t a nice pair of legs, a nice breast. Although she was “nothing special” … she was extraordinary with those who entered her heart and put her heart, strength and passion into everything she did.
I have a difficult character. Too proud, perhaps too moody. I hardly feel anything and if someone goes away I go away too without asking for explanations. I could not bear the idea of ​​submitting myself or depending on someone, first of all there is me. I’ve lost so many people and I’ve earned a reputation for being heartless, but I feel my heart … at night when I’m alone and it’s the saddest sound I’ve ever heard. But I hide it. I hide my emptiness, my good side, my desire to love. I am myself only when I want and above all with whom I want!

ARE THEY REALLY POWERFUL?

Girl_Power.jpg

TRUMP, SALVINI, PUTIN

Three powerful men

MAY, MERKEL, OBAMA

Three powerful women?

How much power do you see in their female hands?

 

 

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