MIND IS IN THE HAIR

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.

COMING HOME FROM HOLIDAYS

I love coming home after the holidays. Because at home, I will be able to sleep peacefully without neighbors who shout late on their balcony. In my house I can swim without sharing the pool with other people. But above all I will be able to see my treasures, my loves, my wonderful puppies: Valkirya and Spritz. I love coming home from vacation because my home is the most comfortable place for me, the place where I have all my things in their place, and I always find them.
And here we are back home. We look around and see books, exams, school, work, which have been waiting for us all summer long. We went to the beach, we laughed, we ran, we practiced sports that we will never do again, we made new friends, found old ones, found new loves, we had so much fun, so much to forget, we sometimes drank too much, sometimes too little, we slept, we saw the sun rise and we saw the stars fall, we saw village festivals, heard religious choirs and stadium choirs, we listened to music too loud. We made promises we didn’t keep, we went out of windows and balconies because the doors were too loud, we sang and danced. We brought out the best in us !!! But, after having lived all this, with what desire do you sit back in a chair, grab a pen again or put on your tie again? The smile is always on the lips and if the memory is so funny it also happens that you escape a laugh, the distraction is at least in my case it is always lurking. Yet I can not hate the book in front of me and which in theory is separating me from the last days of summer. Oh no, because even if for now this seems a difficult task to face I understand, or rather I force myself to believe that all these efforts will lead to something one day. And then you know, without the bitter, my friend, the sweet is not so sweet.
Every trip is an experience and no experience is ever useless, everything serves to teach you something if you have the patience and the ability to receive the message. Goodbye, sea, until I know how to better appreciate what you have to offer, see you the day when I will be able to enjoy your beauty without looking for it elsewhere and your rhythms without suffering its slowness. The holidays officially end today for me. Ok, I’m lucky that I’ve had several days at home, of course, but tomorrow we go back and say that I don’t have half of starting over even comes close to describing the little desire I have to resume. But you have to. In spite of some colleague objectively, humanly and professionally useless, of the various problems and of everything that concerns working, I am well aware of my luck. Except that experiencing my ideal life, that is the perfect tourist, for two weeks has a negative side: that I get used to it. Netflix, cats, reading, time to do whatever I can think of … in short, the perfect life that I would give myself if I could not have to work. But I’m not rich enough, so we’re always there, back to square one. Tomorrow we start again. Once I got angry and struggled like a fish already caught on a hook that tries anyway and pathetically to free itself. It’s different now. Now I am resigned. The life I want, I can’t have it. Like almost everyone in the world, so shut up.
Two weeks went by like hours, but it took me a lot, it took a lot. I took my mind off everything as it hadn’t happened for some time, I focused on us, on our little holiday, on the holidays and on the family. And I understood many things, I think we have grown on all fronts, first of all the importance of having you by my side and the desire for a life together with you. Because it is true that after all this time a sentence like this seems almost banal, but you are a little bit my compass, you are my point of reference for everything. And no, maybe we won’t be perfect, (I have the big nose, you have the hips, because that’s what really matters!), But I love a little more even in the same since you are here. You made me discover a new world, you made me a child again and at the same time we are growing up together. And beyond everything, my life is perfect, complete since you are here.

SERENITY BREATH

It takes peaceful thoughts to clear the air, from fears, from distances, to cultivate new life.
It takes climbers of good thoughts.
Bellies full of beautiful things to feel close to us. Breath is needed.
Vigilant, with bated breath, at nightfall.
The contours slowly fade,
Swallowed by the anxious awakening of memory.
Veils of violet and blue arrive
at the appointment with my heart in my throat,
chased and canceled
from a black man who is never satiated.
Only now, with firm steps,
the king of magicians will enter the scene:
it will steal your eyes
and will repeat the trick over and over.
Everything is a color.
Each emotion is a color.
Silence is white.
In fact, white is a color I can’t stand:
it has no borders.
To spend a sleepless night, go blank,
raise the white flag,
leave the blank sheet,
have a blond hair …
In fact, white isn’t even a color.
It is nothing, like silence.
A nothing without words and without music.
In silence: in white.
Each violet like a break in the sky
a company of clouds in bloom.
They bloom at sunset inside the sea.
Do you ever give people a color?

I do and sometimes I am amazed at how some can have all the shades of that color. Thus there is a midnight blue that manages to turn into a crystalline blue of dawn. A powder pink, only apparently insignificant, but always comforting, always the same. An emerald green, an orange that can be dark, a sand color, a gray as smart and brilliant as a cat, but just as soft and to caress (even if it hides it well). Then a fuchsia, an Irish grass green, a sunny yellow that can brighten as much as it burns, an unashamed red and even an olive green. A purple ... which sometimes looks like me so much, even if we are often the exact opposites and we take each other by the hand to give each other a different tone.

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