Fragility is part of me, this is true; I feel very emotional and sensitive, able to grasp details that people are not normally able to fully grasp Even those details are fragile: those little pieces of the world that no one sees, perhaps hidden by the shadow of chaos and lack of time … see them, and I appreciate them. I see the fragility of the cobweb after it has rained, when the droplets of rain run down the threads … I see how easily it could snap, and I sigh, hoping it doesn’t. I am so fragile that when I see a bee, or a hornet, or any insect that could hurt me, that is drowning in a basin, I bend down and pick it up with my hands, because I know it won’t hurt me, because in that moment we are both fragile. At that moment we both suffer. can’t explain more clearly the sense of fragility around me, but know that wherever you look, in everything you see, there is always a crack, a delicate edge, something that if you look even more carefully, you will find fragile. Almost as fragile as you are.
Whenever you come across a nice person you are faced with an amazing effort, a huge commitment, you are faced with a person who works on himself continuously, a worker of the heart who works night shifts on behalf of everyone you are in front of a person who never escapes, who manages to put care even in his distraction, who has learned to cause silence when offered to her a provocation remember that you are in front of it a story full of stories, long walks in the countryside of villages that we don’t even know how to pronounce, you have in front of you, a person who does not fear loneliness, who has learned to be alone to become an island to be alone who took his break a lifeline which he made of his salvation an anchor for others you stand in front of it to those who have known despair in person but she did not despair, that has disappeared from everyone, scattered everywhere, depended on no one, dispensation of the world whenever you come across a nice person thank life toast to the universe bow to the sun invents a Sunday throw a party you are in front of a work of art extremely fragile like the canvas of a painting, definitely immortal like a painting.Fragility is part of me, this is true; I feel very emotional and sensitive, able to grasp details that normally people are not able to fully grasp. Even those details are fragile: those little pieces of the world that no one sees, perhaps hidden by the shadow of chaos and lack of time … I see them, and I appreciate them. I see the fragility of the spider web after it has rained, when the droplets of rain run down the threads … I see how easily it could snap, and I sigh, hoping it doesn’t. I am so fragile that when I see a bee, or a hornet, or any insect that could hurt me, that is drowning in a basin, I bend down and pick it up with my hands, because I know it won’t hurt me, because in that moment we are both fragile. At that moment we both suffer. I can’t explain more clearly the sense of fragility around me, but know that wherever you look, in everything you see, there is always a crack, a delicate edge, something that if you look even more carefully, you will find fragile. almost as fragile as you are.
I have not seen “Life is beautiful”. And I have not seen “The boy in the striped pajamas”. Do you know why? After seeing “Shindler’s List” I was sick for 3 months. I was in Palermo. I went to Zen and left there all my books, my jewels, my paintings, my clothes, everything I owned. I’ve never told anyone. I managed to get into Zen because I was dressed like a gypsy (they control everything). When I was a little girl and I saw a movie “Amazonia” during the break I went out of the cinema, went to a shop, bought some make-up, went back to the cinema, went to the bathroom and put on my make-up like an Indios. At the end of the film everyone was looking at me as if they had seen an alien. I lay badly for months and months. I wrote desperate letters to the president of Brazil, I wrote to the Pope, many letters that have never been answered. Certain films, about certain truths, make me snap something, and I risk my life. I do absurd things. After seeing “American Sniper” I bought a ticket for Iraq and had to leave. Except that I have health problems and my doctor told me that I would go to die without my drugs. I cannot know of some suffering otherwise I feel too bad and do unthinkable things. When I was 4 they abused me for a long time, and so I know what it feels like when you get great pain. It’s not up to me, I can’t get rid of it.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 