Sometimes I try not to remember how my father died. Sometimes, however, I hear his voice that still asks me how I am. My father always asked me how I was.
My mother never asked me, on the contrary she told me that I should have died and not my father. Sometimes I try to forget certain bad words from my mother.
I light a candle, light incense, pretend he's home and wait to celebrate something with me. I miss him very much.
My mother was always there to draw fashion sketches, perhaps for this reason I don't like fashion. My father had a passion for watches in his spare time.
He liked to fix broken mechanisms, stood with the magnifying glass and tried to fix them. It was good to see those miracles and after all they were ticking again.
It was magic and I was a child and I looked at him as if he were a magician.
Watery and unable to want to be anything. As if joy could never belong to us but only escape us. Loving each other only because we should have loved each other before loving each other. Moving awkwardly because awkwardness is our only beauty. Feeling special as if we were living in a Style Council song. Fading miserably. Failing pale. We are not passionate, we are conventional. We don’t want a good reason, we just want to need it. But we will start again, pretending to be changed. But knowing they are still the same. To lie in the same way again. And we’ll be really good, real artists, and we’ll never think we’re useless. And we will want to produce many many wonders for those who want so much to be amazed by them. And we will say we are happy, and we will finally say it crying. Finally collapsing.
I started walking ... slowly aimlessly ...
Up to a rock hidden in the waves of the sea ..
Losing my sense of direction .. And my heart ..
As if my soul wandered ..
In search of the life that slowly abandons me ...
The water calms my heart ..
But with each wave I feel that my soul is released from my body .. To reach that quiet place .. Hidden ... In my heart ..
But it can only do it by dissolving and regenerating itself ..
Sometimes love is also this ..
Getting lost ... Between loneliness and tears ...
Even through oneself and then find oneself with an infinite sweetness of a caress .. Of a touch ... That only those who have your heart can revive and awaken what really belongs to you ... Your life .. His sense .. your heart ...
But my life why don't you let my sweetness invade your heart ..
You who are simply life for mine ...
Between us it is like this,
we get lost and find ourselves.
We understand ourselves in the eyes of the other
and we never cease to be amazed.
Thoughts in perfect synchrony
minds tuned
and feelings in harmony.
Fragile, yes.
But strong in our choices.
We would have the ability to annihilate ourselves
but we are leaning on each other
and if one falls
the other also falls.
If you get sick
I will suffer like a trampled flower,
if I'm going to get sick
you will be like a street lamp that does not want to light up
and you will look for me in the dark.
So different
like heat and frost
so similar
like grains of sand.
And I'll come look for you
every time you get lost
and you will no longer find the way.
I will be that light
that will guide you home
and you will hear my voice
calling your name
and you won't turn around
but you'll know I'm behind you.
Hold me tight
hold me tight
because in the evening it is difficult to be alone
because without you
the world is a little less colorful.
And it will be enough to see us to understand,
no words
those are useless.
But every word will open our hearts more
they make it explode
they make him feel alive
that make it beat
strong
very strong
until our stomach closes
until our legs tremble.
Everything is so clear.
Looks that sum up pages
hugs that contain tears
smiles that transpire thanks.
Only our limits contain us and give us the rhythm.
Like a heartbeat,
like a symphony.
Think with your head, always, do not let yourself be inculcated by anyone. Deconstruct every thought, every advice that is given to you, take it apart, look at it carefully and feel free to agree or not. Even if you value your interlocutor, disagreeing does not mean going against him, express your opinion if it is different from his. Talk. Try to understand. Don’t force yourself to do things that make you feel uncomfortable. Ask questions. Learn to say no. Develop your own ideas. Don’t be manipulated. Show your qualities. Don’t be conditioned. Educating means “pulling out”, not “putting in”. Follow yourself, interpret according to your intelligence. You are unique and wonderful, feel with your soul, feed your sensitivity, cultivate your passions. Learn more, be curious. There are no absolute truths. Have an ethics, a morality, have respect and then feel free. Nothing else is needed. You don’t have to please anyone. We are all different, we cannot have the same lives. You have the right to choose, choose to be happy.
I stared at him, but only for an instant, the time to cross that blue sea that always put me in awe. I felt like a thief caught in fragrant, guilty of that strange addiction I now had on his face. It was like a drug, I couldn’t do without it, and it was never enough. Greedy, I always wanted more, but you know the effect of being toxic to something or someone: it never ends well. And that’s what I repeated to myself, like a mantra, every time, so as not to fall for it: “Don’t get lost in those eyes”. I took a deep breath, staring at an indefinite point. Every cell in my body was on high alert and was screaming “Send it away”. While the heart remained in absolute peace, in its little corner of paradise, there in the center of the chest, where at every beat it seemed to mark its name.I squeezed into the seat of the black Honda as the road passed fast below us. I checked out of the corner of my eye to see if he was looking at me, but at that very moment, I saw him go into the fast lane to pass an off-road vehicle ahead of us. I took courage, taking advantage of his moment of distraction, while the words came out of my mouth without any control, as if I hadn’t been the one to pronounce them: << Why did you want to see me? >>. I felt his eyes on me, incessant, violent, as if they wanted to dig inside me. I kept my gaze down, helpless now, outraged by his implicit irreverence. << I needed it >>. << What do you mean you needed it? >>. I realized I had almost screamed, exasperated. I lowered my voice, not even giving him time to reply. << You need oxygen, water. You need to feed, to sleep. Not people. Those, you simply want them or you don’t want them. And you don’t want me >>. << This is where you’re wrong >>.I felt a butterfly go through my stomach. Her breathing slowed as her heart pounded inside. I replied with pride, as always, when I was too afraid. << You’re just lying. If you needed me, you’d hold me tight. If you needed me, you would save me >> << I’m already saving you. From me >> << You can’t. It’s too late >>. << I don’t know how to be there as you deserve. I’d give you a sunny day and then you’re dark. And you need to shine. You shouldn’t waste time with me. I’d just hurt you >>. << You do more to me by staying still, there in the prison that you built. How many brick walls will you still put between you and the world? How long will you be convinced that you are the bad guy, the one who only knows how to destroy? >>. << I don’t know how to love anymore, my friend >>. << I’ll teach you >> << It wouldn’t work. I would hurt you >>.<< You are a coward. Stop being afraid of you, of us. Undo those damn chains. I have no more air and you don’t kiss me. Tell me why >>. << I can not keep anyone next. It’s like you have cold inside. And how can, who is snow, give warmth? Have you wondered? Do you think I would warm you up, that I would be able to always look at you with the same eyes? I would begin to feel cramped in our world. I would invent an alternative route along which to escape. I would treat you badly. I would let you slip away from me, until the day you could no longer bear my silences. Is this what you want in your life? >>. His breathing was labored, perhaps desperate, as lost as he was. I was exhausted too, but I couldn’t give up. << I ask you again: Why did you want to see me? >> << For the dimple >> << What? >><< When you smile, a dimple appears on your right cheek. But you have to be careful and notice it right away, because often then you bite your lip and the dimple disappears. So I stay there like a fool trying to make you laugh, to see her again >>. << You can not claim that you need to see me and drag me here at 3 am for a dimple. Tell me what game are you playing >> << And then sometimes, instead of biting your lip, you touch your hair; but don’t twist them, just brush them, and lower your eyes. And you can see that you are embarrassed, so you try to hide it, but when you get embarrassed you laugh, and here is the dimple again. How to return to the starting point. And I would like to ask you to continue each time, but then I remain silent. So you look at me and you start thinking, and I wonder what is on your mind, what universe you have inside. But I don’t understand it. Here it is.>> Tonight I was thinking about it and I wondered if I was with someone, if I had that look of someone who is focused and is thinking about something. And a strange thing happened: I wondered if sometimes I too was among those thoughts, because I wanted it. And I never care about these things. I turned away anyone who was holding me in mind. I didn’t want to be in there. I waged wars to get out when they wanted to lock me up.And instead tonight I would have sat there in your mind. << Would you ever believe it? >>. I opened my mouth to reply, but only silence came out. I wanted to say everything and nothing, then everything again. I reached out to his hand slowly. The more he walked, the more intimidated I was. I first put my index finger to caress the contours of his fingers, then the whole hand. I held hers, tighter and tighter. << I teach you to love. You teach me not to be afraid >>.
As a young girl I imagined a different future and being an artist (I don’t get high nor smoke or drink, I’m an atypical artist I know) I thought that my skills, both artistic and intellectual (I always had excellent grades in school) would have me taken far, in every sense. I have always dreamed of a life off the cursed island, Sicily, because as soon as I grew up a little and became old enough to understand certain social dynamics, I felt suffocated in my aspirations. My parents wanted me to finish my studies, find a rich husband and get married and bake some grandchildren for them. Instead I didn’t do any of this. I have not followed any rules of social life that tradition imposed. Immediately after high school I went abroad to pursue my artistic dream but I was forced to return because my mother was sick and I took on my responsibilities as a daughter and still do it today and in return I do not receive than criticisms and always negative judgments. In part you are right, I have not been able to get even the minimum of what I aspired to in my artistic life but on the other hand I have a situation that everyone envies me.Of course, after having understood how things are going, after having discovered that “either you follow the rules of the market or you stay out of every field”, the choice to continue on the difficult and fruitless path of art is truly crazy. But I can’t turn my back on myself and my fantasy, and especially in recent times if I hadn’t had all these dreams with me yet, I think I wouldn’t have been able to go on. Sometimes instead I say to myself, trying to convince myself, that it would have been better not to have these dreams at all and not to have all these creative abilities, since up to now they have not brought me anything concrete because I do not compromise for any reason and I do not I want to sleep with anyone to get credit. This crisis due to covid pays for itself first of all precisely those sectors of genres that are considered unnecessary, and art is one of them. Certainly having a nice painting hanging on the wall does not fill people’s stomachs so even I wouldn’t feel like persuading someone to buy a painting rather than buying groceries. First of all, I myself have had to give up those beautiful things that make life more pleasant (dinners out, accessories, hairdressers, cinema, theater, concerts, cosplay fairs, …) and so why shouldn’t others give it up too ?! The covid spared no one. So what’s the point of creating so many beautiful things if they have to remain closed in a box or drawer? Being an art therapist seems nonsense. Working with autistic children seems inconsistent. Yet it requires a lot of patience and a lot of control. But I never talk about my passion for saving children.
Do you know what you are? A rose. A beautiful rose. That people have not been able to handle well so far, they got points, points of those defects that you had not yet seen, and then you started trying to hide them; you are a rose who did not know you had thorns until too many people told her they had them, and for too much too long, long, she worried about those two or three thorns that hurt certain people, which were really nothing else what fools, unable to keep it well. You are a rose who has spent so much time looking at the thorns that you have forgotten how red and beautiful its petals are.In the end, I always thought that people have to sweat it out. Come on, who do you want to get a beautiful thing without passion? I love to be there to gnaw for a kiss. Go home and stay with the fixed thought of “why he didn’t do it” or “why he doesn’t hold me”. It will be because I do not give myself. The beautiful part of me, the one that many talk about but of which no one really knows the essence, I do not offer. I will be exaggerating perhaps, but there are wounds that do not need to be touched yet. I don’t need pain anymore. And just as I love to win a caress, I want to make it conquer.And this is perhaps the most beautiful part of you Rose, that you have an honest heart and you have a heart that is proud of you, a heart that many would like because it is not bought, it has no compromises, it is not for everyone, it is loyal, because it is a heart that gives space to a few, as you do. And whoever has even managed to enter there, in your heart, is a privileged one.You sit down at the table. You look carefully at everything in front of you. You feel the cramps of hunger and the mind that constantly suggests you to eat. You are tempted to grab that piece of pizza, that slice of cake and then throw yourself headlong onto the tin of cookies and devour them one by one. But hold on. You promised yourself not to give up, you would never do it again, and so it was. Self-control prevailed and you didn’t allow yourself to be overwhelmed by temptation. You feel proud and proud, nothing is more satisfying than being able to control yourself and manage your hunger. There is nothing more satisfying than having what can kill you psychologically in front of you and not giving it the power to do so.You looked at me as if I was the thing the most beautiful in the world and you healed me from the disease ugliest in the world: fear not to be loved never again.
As a young girl I imagined a different future and being an artist (I don’t get high or smoke or drink, I’m an atypical artist I know) I thought that my skills, both artistic and intellectual (I always had excellent grades in school) would have me taken far, in every sense. I have always dreamed of a life off the cursed island, Sicily, because as soon as I grew up a little and became old enough to understand certain social dynamics, I felt suffocated in my aspirations. My parents wanted me to finish school, find a rich husband and get married and churn out grandchildren for them. Instead I didn’t do any of this. I have not followed any rules of social life that tradition imposed. Immediately after high school I went abroad to pursue my artistic dream but I was forced to return because my mother was sick and I took on my responsibilities as a daughter and still do it today and in return I do not receive than criticisms and always negative judgments. In part you are right, I have not been able to get even the minimum of what I aspired to in my artistic life but on the other hand I have a situation that everyone envies me. Of course, after having understood how things are going, after having discovered that “either you follow the rules of the market or you stay out of every field”, the choice to continue on the difficult and fruitless path of art is truly crazy. But I can’t turn my back on myself and my fantasy, and especially in recent times if I hadn’t had all these dreams with me yet, I think I wouldn’t have been able to go on. Sometimes instead I say to myself, trying to convince myself, that it would have been better not to have these dreams at all and not to have all these creative abilities, since up to now they have not brought me anything concrete because I do not compromise for any reason and I do not I want to sleep with anyone to get credit. This crisis due to covid pays for itself first of all precisely those sectors of genres that are considered unnecessary, and art is one of them. Certainly having a nice painting hanging on the wall does not fill people’s stomachs so even I would not feel like convincing someone to buy a painting rather than buying groceries. First of all, I myself have had to give up those beautiful things that make life more pleasant (dinners out, accessories, hairdressing, cinema, theater, concerts, cosplay fairs, …) and so why shouldn’t others give it up too ?! The covid spared no one. So what’s the point of creating so many beautiful things if they have to remain closed in a box or drawer? Being an art therapist seems nonsense. Working with autistic children seems inconsistent. Yet it requires a lot of patience and a lot of control. But I never talk about my passion for saving children.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 