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.
Ah, do you think we hear nothing? ... Because we have a porcelain head and crystal eyes, do you think we are deaf, dumb, blind, insensitive? ... You are wrong, my ladies, you are wrong. We, made in your image and likeness, we, if you want to know, we feel it as if our hearts were beating in our chest and our thoughts whirled in our heads. We get along well among ourselves; we tell each other our stories, we console ourselves, we rejoice; we are not at all inanimate, in short: so much so that each doll has its own good story. Would you like to hear mine? ... I will be brief and who knows that I won't teach you something.
I was born in Nuremberg; but who gave me the ability to feel was a girl's kiss, a kiss that made my life flow through my body, that made me know myself. - You are the most beautiful of all and I will make you princess, I will make you queen! - These were the words that accompanied the kiss, this was my baptism. Oh the praises! it is enough to have two ears to hear them; and if one collects them in his bosom with jealousy, he believes them to be good, as if they were truth. Praise benefits the wise and harms the fool, I heard later; but I was not born with wisdom in my body, and those words, which greeted me the most beautiful of all, buzzed in my head like sweet music, teased my nascent vanity, already gave me a haughty and contemptuous air.
There is a person, alone, leaning against a window overlooking the world, he looks but has his eyes closed, he is unable to see. He hears all the noises in the world: cars that run, children who laugh, those who cry, adults who fight, what they love. The leaves that move resting on the wind, the clouds that move, the water that flows in the rivers, which ends up in the seas, in the puddles, down the gutters. He hears everything but cannot hear. He answers everything but is unable to speak. He would like to touch everything but is unable to move out of that window. There is this person who is desperate, but does not want to cross that fine line. Every day he looks, listens, answers. After months she starts crying every night, she was missing something that could not exist for her. Standing on the windowsill he screams, but no one can hear, because he cannot speak. He decides to go up on that windowsill every day, to make his voice heard. And scream, scream, scream. Then one afternoon he freezes with his mouth ajar and whispers. "Is it I who cannot speak, or the others who are unable to listen to me?" The closed mouth, a weight in the void, the hair resting on the wind, the clouds move. Then there is the land, a lot of land. Above, below, everywhere. Its branches sway, the leaves dance forced by the force of the wind, the roots are well planted up to the center of the earth. Every day he listens to the birds singing, the squirrels chasing each other, the clouds that move, the water that flows in the rivers, which ends up in the seas, in the puddles, down the gutters. Children laugh, others cry sometimes. Some adults kiss there, in the shade of her hair. The answer comes like a blizzard. It is others who are unable to listen.
Today I saw the angel of death
he had white eyes
without pupils
and a wrinkled white skin
with a look he tore me apart
reopened infected wounds
with its black wings it envelops me
an old piano plays a waltz.
The winged creature looks at me and smiles
he touches my lips with his fingers
run your hand gently over my cheeks
and then slowly pierces me from behind
it feeds on my blood
of my pain.
Watch life fade from my eyes
bring her thin lips closer
And he steals my last breath from me with a kiss.
And his eyes
and its skin
take back the true color
and scrutinizes me with his head held high
as I fall to my knees in front of him.
I recognize you.
I remember those brown eyes
that very white skin,
but I don't have time to say your name
that are already with your claws to the throat.
But I remember the name of the one who conquered death and griffin it in your face and you no longer have power over me and my life.
Awake in the dark, still with my eyes half closed. I reach out towards you, I feel your smooth skin under my fingers, it seems to me that you are stretching your leg towards me or maybe you are dreaming, hard to say.
I go up with my hand, I look for you, I kiss you. Here is the navel and then higher. I kiss you again.
You're awake now, I'm sure, you're looking for me too in the dark. We kiss gently and then more and more passionate.
Our bodies are looking for each other, I undress you. You undress me.
I feel your skin against mine, your warmth. It's cool outside but it's hot right here in this bed.
"What a nice awakening" you tell me.
"Good morning" I reply.
You guide me inside you and hold me.
It's just us, you and me. You keep me inside you.
"Don't run away" you tell me.
"I'm not going anywhere" I tell you.
Let's stay like that, a little longer.
Who knows what time it is. Ultimately, however, it doesn't really matter to know.
"You interrupted the dream I was having," you tell me.
"Is that what you dreamed of?" I ask you.
"I do not remember"
"Excuse me"
"No, don't apologize, that's okay. It doesn't matter what I was dreaming about anymore. But it's the second day in a row that I have a dream interrupted. Yesterday Tigress did it when I woke up."
I would say to those who are dear to me
I am not with you
if I try to smile at you
it's just to delude you
there was a big party
a drug of smiles
I saw a long dance
but the meaning was not there
no one can save me
my world is not here
I dream of finding you
but I don't even know if you're there
when I find someone
i saw a ghost
every eye I kiss
it is an already empty room
I put two glasses
for when I drink with you
I keep waiting for you
and for now everything stays here
I'll tell you about my nightmares
when I fell down
and the surprise is waking up
here for a little while longer
autumn I would like to ask you
if in the end it's not really you
you who make me wither today
that you want me down here with you
when I find someone
I chased a ghost
every eye i love
it is an already dark room
when I hold something
it's a piece of paper
everything I touch
(everything I feel)
it is a fragment of glass
He looked at her with his eyes shining, he ate it with his eyes, but he waited in silence. As she slowly approached his lips, he made a little jerk forward, but she gently stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Not like that,” he said softly. He didn’t want it to be a quick, voracious kiss. He wanted something completely different. She began to give him some very light kisses that went down from the nose to around the mouth. – A real kiss, in my opinion, must be slow … He reached his mouth and gently took her lower lip between his, then parted a few millimeters. – It must be tasted, it must be felt, it must be lived with all the senses. Slowly, looking into his eyes, she placed her lips on hers and, inhaling his perfume, kissed him softly, carefully enjoying every fiber of those sensations. Then her hands came into her curls, fingers caressing her temples gently. He too realized that he felt more, enjoyed more, gave time for all his senses to understand, to immerse themselves totally in those sensations, instead of confusing them.
Have you ever tried to take care of a woman’s hair? Slip them between your fingers, welcome them in your hands if they are too curly as if it were wadding. Touching a woman’s hair is very important, taking care of it even more. Because if you do it, it is with her consent, it amounts to permission to touch her heart. Dissipating any tangles or brushing them frees his mind, a massage to his soul. We should all take care of a woman’s hair, with dedication and delicacy. Make them a braid or brush them with extreme delicacy, you too will benefit, because relaxing being a source of serenity. A woman’s hair has its own scent, which differs from woman to woman. By arranging her hair you put her soul in order, she will allow you to listen to her secrets, because taking care of her hair is a very intimate act. In Portuguese it is called “cafuné” the act of tenderly running your fingers through the hair of your loved one. Kiss a woman’s hair, because they deserve respect. Take care of a woman’s hair, because they give positive energy.
I have always loved my life. I have never lacked for anything: family, friends, kids and everything you could ever want. But I have always felt unsuitable, always out of place, always on standby. Like I’m in a storm waiting for someone to save me. But nobody ever came. Indeed, for anything it was always a continuous “but you are strong” and never a “come here, I’ll give you a hand”. At one point I thought I was wrong. Because let’s face it, I’m a mess. I’m worse than hurt. And who was that madman, not sane, who voluntarily chose to stay? Easy, nobody. Or so I thought. Even today, if I stop to think how it all started in such a banal and simple way, a smile escapes me. It is truly absurd. I always believed that when it happened it would be a movie thing, a blatant event, a bolt from the blue. But it was not so. It was better. Because I didn’t expect it, I didn’t even notice it and it hit me straight in the heart, but this time it wasn’t a pain but a joy. And basically, nothing, I was in this place that I do my own business and to myself and I was thinking only of the duvet that was waiting for me at home. I was bored, tired and the evening went by slowly in its crap. In short, a total shit. Then I turn around and notice a boy looking out from the balcony of the private room. Tall, brown-haired, well-dressed, sipping a glass of champagne, in short, scary cool. I start staring at it. I try to make him understand that I care but without getting too unbalanced, otherwise what bitch would I have been ?! And this game of glances lasts for a while. Then I lose sight of him. I’m looking for it, but I can’t find it. Sin. The evening continues and I decide to break down on the sofa at my table and wait there for the end of the evening. But at some point I feel my back being stroked. I turn around and he was there. I just couldn’t help but smile. I don’t know why, it never happened to me. Anyway we start talking about this and that, he tells me his name and pulls me another smile. His name is Vincenzo, like my father. It doesn’t take too long for us to kiss. And what a kiss. As if at some point there was nothing. No people. No music. No chaos. Only U.S. Only his hand touching my guncia. Just her full lips on mine. Only her perfume that drove me crazy. And then bam, they call me that we have to go away. Typical. I start having fun and we had to leave. We exchanged numbers and said goodbye. In the car, while we were returning home, I came to my senses, I made up my mind and I thought I was perhaps too drunk and that I would never see him again. But as soon as I got home I sent him a message, because I had promised to do it and that stupid promise was enough for me as an excuse to do it. I fell asleep and in the morning I didn’t think about it anymore. Only by accident did I notice that he had answered me. But in that moment I don’t know, something changed in me. An alarm bell rings. But then, only later, did he realize that I had misinterpreted what my heart was trying to tell me. But there in that moment, I simply snubbed him and even in the following weeks I was elusive, absent and disinterested. At one point on the phone his name no longer appeared. And I was a little sorry. Maybe even more than a little. Certainly more than a little. Another evening was organized in that club and obviously I couldn’t miss it. I didn’t make any plans but in my heart I hoped to see him again. Even in the car I wanted to disguise my little spern by saying to my friend: “You know, I met a guy here. Who knows if there will be tonight. Otherwise c’est la vie ”. And as soon as I entered, he took a look around the room, I was not even robocop with an x-ray view. But ninete. I didn’t see him. I let out a sigh that at times my lungs burst. Do you see that I’m strange? Feeling like this for someone who has seen you half a time, and it is true that it had never happened to me before but it was still an absurd thing. So what was the only solution? Alcohol. And as I go to the bar someone grabs me by the arm, I turn around like a beast but I become a puppy as soon as I notice that he is there. And here’s another smile. We are already three, it was a record for a boy. And it was for me too. Because ripped smiles are the truest and I haven’t had them like that for a long, long time. However, let’s not waste time and go outside to talk. It’s like eight thousand degrees below zero and so we stay close, I hug him tightly and as we speak my fingers touch his back. We talk, we talk a lot. Of so many things that I am baffled by the fact that she had so much desire to open up with me. Had I really made a good impression? Miracle. Well of course we kiss and again I feel full. Full of everything. It is difficult to explain it but while I try to explain to you what I felt while kissing me, my hands tremble on the keyboard, I feel my stomach upside down, like at the rides and then I smile with my mouth, with my eyes, with my heart, with my mind. You have understood? We decide that it is time to see each other out of the context of the place, where one catches each other by chance and there is not much intimacy. When I get home, in bed, but I always think it will eventually go away. I don’t know, I try to defend myself in some way. Not to delude myself too much. The next day I brought my hopes to zero and when we go get that coffee inside of me I tell myself that this is all a bluff and that it won’t last. And you can’t understand how bad it is to think such things while you are just sitting with a person talking about nonsense but you feel good, of such a great good that it almost hurts you. So when he takes me back to the house, before going down, I kiss him and tell him: “I will never see you again”. He looks at me, gives a hint of a smile and tells me: “See you tomorrow”. But did I go up the stairs? I think I flew up to the second floor. See you tomorrow?! That is, tomorrow is the most important thing that can be said at the beginning. But it was great to be told “see you tomorrow” and to see that he was really there. From that moment on, I have completely changed or I have almost become myself again. I took courage and took off that heavy and very hard steel armor that I always carried around me and underneath a little little girl came out. I wanted to play it all. This time it either goes or breaks it. And gone. It went great. I rediscovered myself. The desire to tell me. To open my heart and my brain. To give him my hopes, my ideas, my thoughts, my feelings. I discovered the joy of laughing at nonsense, the pleasure of opening your eyes and seeing his face first. I discovered the pleasure of hugs given from behind, as if to say “don’t worry, I’m always here”. I discovered the strength that can give you a look, a word, a handshake given by someone else. I discovered the beauty of the future in making plans. I discovered the fragility but it will never be used against you. I discovered the small gestures that become immense if he does them. I discovered feeling good, because there is nothing more beautiful in the world than starting every day with the knowledge that someone loves you. And I know that compared to everything I’ve always done and said I’m inconsistent, but if to be happy to suck I have to be inconsistent then I am. And then I found love. And love, well, how can I explain it. Take Shakespeare’s sonnets, Alda Merini’s poems, Colplay’s or Ed-sheeran’s songs, take Nutella, sunsets, books, music, movies, laughter, hugs, cotton candy, planes , Mc Donald’s, summer, clouds, the rainbow, hot chocolate, TV series and multiplied by ten billion. Here, that is similar to love for you. Instead for me love is one thing. For me, love is Vincenzo. Because sometimes it happens, not just in movies. This is for you. Thanks for existing.
Never repress your emotions just because they make you feel guilty or think they are wrong. No emotion is wrong and if we feel it in us there is always a reason and the more we try to justify it rationally or avoid them we only do damage to ourselves because repression makes them come back to the surface and transform them into fears. Always be open to yourself, listen to yourself and always look inside yourself to understand if you are okay and don’t pretend yes when it is not so because you only hurt yourself and you will never be able to really know yourself. Love each other so much that you don’t feel guilty for trying certain things because we are human and we are not automatons. We are imperfect and it is so beautiful, we can make mistakes a lot of times and fix it anyway because there is no standard concept of perfection, it is only in our mind and often it will be for what we will feel wrong, but know that it is not so. It’s okay if you feel that way now and it’s okay to stop for a moment when you feel you are about to burst, try not to make it too late. Take your time and listen to yourself, do what you really want and leave everything else alone for a moment and you will see that your day will completely change.
I am not made for goodbye, for tight hugs, for thanks for everything, for promises made on the doorstep of the house or at the station, for gifts, given as a token, for languid looks. I’m not made for emotionally strong experiences. Better to do with me as you do with pets, which do not have the conception of the passage of time, better tell me: see you later, even if one will come back after months, or after a day or never come back.It is in mornings like these, slow, full of thoughts, doubts and worries, while that light breeze blows, whipping the heat of the night just passed among a thousand torments, that you realize how much life for you has always been a whirlwind of disparate emotions, so many never have the time to elaborate them fully, dragging them along like a useless ballast. I will be too emotional, I will live too intensely what happens to me, I will also take too much to heart the problems of others putting them before mine, but I still firmly and despite everything believe that this is me, and I am fine with it. Of course, it would be good not to have gastritis nervosa, but that’s another story.Sometimes being emotional is something totally negative for us. Think about when you love so much, that emotionality comes to cover everything, inducing us to think that your story has a continuity, that it can go on even if the person we love no longer reciprocates our feeling. On the contrary, it is something totally positive. When you feel like you’re dying for a kiss. When you take his hands and smile feeling your heart beat like never before. When you make love and feel a thousand emotions follow each other. When you get excited in front of a good book. When you get attached to a character, when you recognize yourself in it. As in everything there are positive and negative aspects, but what would we be without feelings?I’m afraid of falling in love. To go back to feeling everything for someone who probably won’t feel anything for me. I’m afraid of taking risks, of putting my heart on the line once again. I’m afraid of turning these smiles into tears, I’m afraid of becoming attached to them and then being abandoned. I’m afraid of what I feel. Of that involuntary smile when I look at you, or of the most total confusion when I sink into your blue eyes. I’m afraid of falling in love again and at the same time I have a craving crowd. The desire that keeps me awake at night thinking of you, that desire to kiss you every smile and to be with you every second. I am afraid of when I am out and I look for you. I am afraid when I do everything to see you. I’m afraid when I look at you. I’m afraid, because I know I’m about to fall in love.
Never repress your emotions just because they make you feel guilty or think they are wrong. No emotion is wrong and if we feel it in us there is always a reason and the more we try to justify it rationally or avoid them we only do damage to ourselves because repression makes them come back to the surface and transform them into fears. Always be open to yourself, listen to yourself and always look inside yourself to understand if you are okay and don’t pretend yes when it is not so because you only hurt yourself and you will never be able to really know yourself. Love each other so much that you don’t feel guilty for trying certain things because we are human and we are not automatons. We are imperfect and it is so beautiful, we can make mistakes a lot of times and fix it anyway because there is no standard concept of perfection, it is only in our mind and often it will be for what we will feel wrong, but know that it is not so. It’s okay if you feel that way now and it’s okay to stop for a moment when you feel you are about to burst, try not to make it too late. Take your time and listen to yourself, do what you really want and leave everything else alone for a moment and you will see that your day will completely change.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 