A BLUE SHADE

I don't want to be strong

I want the world to be nice to me.

Why does everybody tell me I'm strong like it's some kind of consolation?

How if it was worth it, the pain?

I don't want to die for this.

the world only knows how to break me

to say make me stronger.

because we all want to achieve strength

like it's not going numb?

become the pain instead of enduring it.

I'm growing in pain, but you call it strength.

you say I'm strong, that I can do it.

but i just want the world to be nice to me

even if it makes me weak.

GROWING UP

When you were five and still using a pencil, you couldn’t wait to be a nine-year-old to finally have a ballpoint pen. When you turned nine, you told yourself you wanted to be twelve, that if you could just pull the days towards your graduation day, you would. At twelve, you had a bad day, and you asked heaven to speed up time, and take you to fifteen right away. You were fifteen, bombarded with too many school jobs, yet you still managed to endure; nothing has changed, you wanted to become an adult. You turned eighteen. You thought that at that point you could conquer the world; you were on the road to being of age, it thrilled your soul, because you saw it as freedom from everything. Nineteen years old and you fell in love and realized that maybe a skinned knee hurt less after you fell off your bike. You have known loneliness, betrayal, anguish, pain and you have understood that you should not have been in a hurry to grow up.

One of the things that changed my relationship with love was my desire to open up, to be given the opportunity to have the freedom to choose, to inform myself, to feel the need to improve myself. Understanding that, like everyone, I have potential. In this way I was able to increase love and respect for my person, who by nature will continue to falter, but that’s okay and consequently towards everything around me. Once love reaches your soul, she will ask for more and more, again, the best thing will be to find valid sources from which to draw and this is where our openness, our availability and the knowledge of us come into play. themselves. Sometimes it is important to detach ourselves from conventions, stop relying solely on what is served on our plate and listen to us deeply, in search of what can give us the love we need.

IF I WAS A CHILD

I wish I could hug all those little girls who grow up with the idea of ​​being wrong, who start hating their body.
I wish I could tell them that I know that story well and that they are not alone.
I would like to be able to embrace every single creature who, looking in the mirror,
repeats “I am wrong. I am too fat for this world”.
I wish I could hug the child Queen to tell her that it is not her fault,
that the world is full of things of so many things that she has not been able to see.
He was afraid that only evil existed.

Everything was easier as children, when the words didn’t hurt and the hugs were sincere. When the greatest pain was a skinned knee and the only difficulty was tying the knot in your shoes. Everything was more beautiful as children, when to touch the sky it was enough to go on the swing and a storybook made us dream. When a lollipop was enough to let the sadness pass and a light on to scare the monsters under the bed. When the world seemed perfect and we were in a hurry to grow. Now the world is scarier and sometimes I would like to go back to being a child

“What happened?” “That lollipops have become cigarettes, water vodka, bicycles, mopeds, sex kisses. Do you remember when flying meant swinging fast? When did “protection” mean using a helmet for cycling? When the worst you could get from a person was head lice? When did we only love our parents? Dad’s shoulders were the highest place in the world and Mom was a heroine. Your worst enemy was your brother, speed problems were caused by running too fast. “War” was just a game and the only drug we knew was cough syrup. The strongest pain you could feel was in your skinned knee and “goodbye” just meant “until tomorrow”. All this was the best thing in the world, but we couldn’t wait to grow up… “

A hug to the little girl I was, shy and insecure. To that delicate and sensitive child who cried, suffered, felt alone. A hug to the woman I have become, stubborn and imperfect but always sincere, a warrior with a heart that is always too open. To the woman who is trying to forgive herself and who never stops dreaming. For the woman that I am, for all the love I have inside, for my victories and my defeats, for all the times I’ve stood up, for all the monsters I’ve faced. A hug to the little girl I still am and will always be, with fairy tales in my heart and a thousand dreams in my eyes.

THE WHITE FLOWER IN THE MUD

You see a mile away that you are special, everyone points it out to you but you don’t want to see it. You color the lives of those around you but you can’t find anyone who colors yours, and I see you looking around for a pair of eyes in which to reflect yourself. But you can’t find them, because you are pure and the only time I saw you mirrored in someone was when that child was in your arms, the one you said had the same eyes as me, but strangely I saw yours again. . You tell me that I have an innate purity, and I tell you, and so we spend our days wondering who among us is right, never finding an answer, even if I know it. Sometimes we see the world in black and white, and while I drown in the darkness of darkness you point out the purity of white, and slowly together we emerge from the abyss. We often have a tantrum, because we are never too old to cry in exchange for a candy, or a caress. Sometimes I would like to give you my eyes, and ask for yours in return, to change perspective and see if our points of view are damn the same or so damn different that they collide all the time. And sometimes I want to make you feel special, just as much as you make me feel.

I grew up with her. “The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all” has become the phrase I repeat most often. They always wanted me to be different: thinner, more affectionate, less cold, less sarcastic, less reserved, more feminine … But I can’t. I don’t know how to hug, sarcasm spontaneously comes out of my mouth, I’ll always have a tomboy part, despite my make-up and hair in order. I have always fought, I have always managed by myself. Some time ago, I wanted to get a lotus flower tattoo. It is a particular flower: it comes from the slime, from the mud but finds the strength to blossom and emerge from this dirt. When it blooms it’s wonderful. I felt and I feel this way. I just can’t fully blossom, I always find myself trapped in the mud, few parts have blossomed, the rest is still hindered. I gave up the tattoo partly out of fear, as I am too delicate, partly because it is now turning into a too trivial tattoo. So maybe I’ll mix a Celtic four-leaf clover with their flower. But I still haven’t had time to try to draw it.

When one is dedicated, one is totally dedicated. We all share the pain, something deep that breaks our hearts in half, that makes us gasp, oppresses us and makes us scream inside with evil until we are completely exhausted. But love wins everything. Love overcomes time, overcomes pride, overcomes anger, overcomes difficulties. Here, above all, Love overcomes difficulties. Because Love is dedicated to heal, to heal, to remind us that life goes on and we can open ourselves to something great, beautiful, new. Love holds hands and hugs tightly, because Together is Better. Together we are never alone. Two Heads reason, discuss, comfort each other, understand each other, advise each other. They help each other. They love each other. Because love wins everything and knowing that you can share your problems on the strong shoulders of those who love us is already a great sigh of relief. Love Wins everything. Because Love knows. Love knows. He knows suffering, he knows tears … but he also knows the joy of falling in love, of being together. To make it: in spite of everything. “When Love arrives, treat it well”. If Love is faced with the Common Thought of being Two Souls who give themselves to each other, then Love is realized. And it completes. In the Today and Forever.

Give me time to change. I don’t like habits. They are an unconventional of habits. Yet, in the end, I get used to it. Like all. I have always welcomed changes with sudden ease. Growing up, who knows why who knows how, I neglected to cultivate this ability. For years I have pursued habits that have become stronger and more alive. Some of these saved me, some broke me. None, however, is indispensable if I don’t have the ability to let them go. Just give me time to change. This morning, I met a dear Buddhist friend of mine who was six months pregnant. She is a special, sweet and courageous woman. We talked about children, parents, education and Love. When I left her, I told myself that it is worth changing, choosing to be a better person if only to leave something Good, Bright, Strong in the world. And, in the presence of the children, to be able to set a good example. Because it is never the adults who educate the children, but the opposite. Adults mislead children, force them, clip them, adhere them to their reality, forgetting that the vision of children is much more complete than theirs. It is worth changing to remember how to play, how to taste the snow, how to touch the ground. Finding the time. That as adults we lose, we fight, we take the rest of our life. Give me time to change. The time to abandon my mental schemes, pre-built in years of purism, which have become aseptic. A purism that smells of emptiness and in which I no longer came to meet myself. Myself. Find myself. Love me. Live me. In order not to have fears. To forget that I was looking for myself and just remember to be happy. I’ve spent far too long telling myself no. Please forgive me, thank you, I love you. Give me time to change and I will rely on myself, without trying to be helpful at all costs. The Posts. I am there. But first of all I have to Be There for Me. To love, to love me, not to disappoint me. The courage to remember that goodness is not something that can be given as a gift, only to find oneself empty-handed. “If you keep filling other people’s glasses, when do you drink from the well?” Alive. Here, “Live” also means this. I’m finishing “getting ready”. Then the change will come, light and sincere. Habits will fall like houses of cards, faded by the wind. It is the world that acts as a mirror for me, it will change in my embrace.