You know when you went to the bottom of your sea?
I mean when you've been right in your abyss.
When everything you've done, fought for yourself seemed for nothing?
First of all don't blame it on others... No dear friend or whoever you are. The fault was only yours.
Yours because you allowed it.
But remember...
When you hit the bottom of your abyss, you have a choice.
Or stay there mouldering and feeling sorry for yourself.
Or by touching the bottom you give yourself the push to get out of that abyss.
No, no one will come to save you, we are not in fairy tales here.
It's you who decides whether to save yourself or leave you there to cry over yourself, complain and get stuck.
But I'll tell you one thing.
When you succeed (if you want) to get out of your abyss... It will be like a rebirth.
And you will see green and it will be light and you will see the sky and it will be light and you will see how long you lived thinking it was all grey.
You can get out of the deep sea and you can rediscover all the colors of your soul.


The cracked crystal of a smile,

last shield between you and the world

Dull is the sparkle of your eyes,

cold and gray the embers of the past.

You have lost the queen's crown

to which all the people bowed.

In learning you fight against yourself

your brittle bones turn white.

In the silence of the evening and in the shade

you dance madly between pain and hope.

Where are your girl dreams?

What about love, happiness, adventure?

You don't remember the wind in your hair

messenger of light and color?

You no longer feel the red torrent

rush into the flesh?

Your senses do not awaken

with the cool light of dawn?

Do not sleep peacefully and serene

with the sweetness of the sunset?

You're naked in front of the mirror,

alone with yourself, unrecognizable,

you look around, no one is with you.

You've been weaving your own thread for too many years

in a canvas full of tears and errors.

And now you would like to break it. Stop it here.

But you are still alive, indomitable,

you can still look at the horizon.

Without turning to the past and the future,

walk towards the present and be reborn.


At a certain point

You decide to be born.

And it is as if this childhood

It was an abuse, a compulsion

To live

A condition to undergo

But at some point you are born

Decide which side to take sides

Whether to redeem yourself or repent

Whether to live or die

Whether to open your eyes or flee

Why sooner or later

You will fall into the archaic trap

In the question of the questions

To which there is no answer

But only points of view

And if you think about it, it could be playing bingo

Or play an important role

The meaning of your life

I hope it will be paid

Your expectation.

Whatever it is

Why sooner or later

You will fall into the question of questions

To which there is no answer

But only points of view

And you will start thinking about your body

At the finite time that characterizes us

How there can be no beginning without an end

And it will be here that perhaps you will notice the hitch

How every day tribulations for small matters

Because in the face of the end we are like autumn leaves

And then you will use the most varied theories

You will believe the three maries

Maybe a deity who tells the faithful how to lead their lives

Perhaps you will find joy in a prophet

In the most complete anarchy

Or maybe you will believe in eternal darkness

But the point is that perhaps this is the meaning of dying

That of being able to start over

Once again to feel



The breaking of the waves on the worn rock, the cold and icy air of an uncertain winter day where the sun plays hide and seek with the clouds. I want to hear the heartbeat that unconsciously pumps life, the silence of the blood that flows impetuously in its deaf language. I want to smell the warm bread, the smell of simple things that never get tired, of those little things that smell like home. I want to hear the sound of the beating of a butterfly’s wings, the sound of a life that is reborn, the lightness of a day, the freedom of a moment made of fluttering colors.
On February 25th, I saw the light again for the first time, and I caught the first sign of spring in my soul. Absorbed in the warm warmth of a noon that is anything but winter, a white butterfly hovers nearby in my garden. Immediately my mind could not help but think of the lyrics of that song so dear to me: “A butterfly lands on her shoulder, and I, I can only give her a farewell; That his destiny is as fragile as strength, but he says that today it flies, and that is where wealth is. ” I didn’t have time to finish that sentence between me and me with my eyes closed, when I felt a sudden slight tickle on my right shoulder …: it was her. Impulsively I pulled away, but hovered up the second needed to rest on my arm. At that point I stood still, smiled at her, and she took off. Goodbye, I whispered at that point, through tears. I know well that it was you, you, ephemeral thought reincarnated in the most fragile creature that exists. You finally gave me a reason to let you go, forever. Winter is coming to an end, and my heart today is really ready to welcome that long-awaited Spring. … “A butterfly rests on my shoulder, today I sit down and listen to it. Then he says it’s no longer time to talk, that tomorrow he has another life to meet. ” … And I too, from today, will try to start over.
When she turned into a butterfly, the caterpillars spoke not of her beauty, but of her quirks. They wanted her to be who she always was. But she had wings. She wanted to fly. She wanted to dare again. She was ready to destroy that cocoon and show all its colors.
In the garden that looks like an abyss the butterfly draws attention: interested in his clipped flight its bright colors and the black circles that decorate the tips of the wings. It affects the shape of the abdomen. When it whirls in the air illuminated by a green ray like when it rests from the effect which produce dew and pollen attached to the front of the flower I don’t lose sight of her and if it disappears beyond the railing of the garden because the garden is small or for speeding I follow her mentally for a few seconds until I recover my reason.
I don’t know if I’m wrong or if the time is wrong, or maybe the place where I am. I do not know. I just know that I feel a mistake, in everything I do, what I feel. Sometimes I hate myself, but not enough. I try to feel compassion for myself, for my survival. If life has given me the opportunity to start over for the second time, I cannot destroy myself again. I do not want. I was just a chrysalis and now I want to be a butterfly.
A chrysalis opened, releasing in the clear spring air a butterfly with diaphanous wings that began to flutter happily from one flower to another without ever stopping. “Place yourself on any flower and stay on it. Your life will be short and you will not be able to travel the whole world. It is foolish to tire yourself so much ”, the other butterflies told her; but she was determined to fly as much as possible: she could not waste her existence confined to a single flower, merely looking at a single patch of sky; when there are, however, millions of different flowers and an immense sky. So the curious butterfly flew, flew, and flew until it had the strength, and finally lay down on a meadow; it went out delicately like a candle. “I warned you that you would not be able to visit the whole world, that you would get tired at all”, a similar one would have commented if she had known about her wanderings; but she would have promptly replied “Lilies, roses, sunflowers, daisies, tulips, violets, dahlias, geraniums, irises, water lilies, camellias, begonias, chrysanthemums, poppies, marigolds and daffodils: these are just some of the flowers I smelled. I fluttered among the leaves of countless trees: lemon, cherry, orange, almond, pine, plum, olive, chestnut, apricot; and I flew over different landscapes: rivers, countryside, hills, mountains, valleys, ponds. I saw a multitude of colors: canary yellow and straw yellow, crimson, turquoise, orange, dazzling white, fuchsia, gold, silver, coral red, emerald green, forest green, amber, midnight blue, indigo, purple, pitch black, pink sugared almond, burgundy, beige, ocher, cyan, magenta, lilac, amaranth, light blue, purple, lavender, mauve. It’s true, I haven’t seen everything, but I’ve seen everything I could. “

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