Floating like a swan, without an anchor, without a weight underwater. To be immersed, evanescent in a hot liquid.
One day an old woman told me that the sea was the only thing in the world that relaxed her; she had tried everything but only he could calm her down on the worst of days. Even if she couldn't anymore, as a young girl she loved to float among the waves and think, because by managing to overcome gravity herself, even the problems seemed less imposing and insurmountable to her. Even when it was stormy, he saw in it only a massive force that he could not fear because it was breathtaking. She told me one day that she had asked her loved ones to be buried in the sea and to be able to lie inside it forever, just to feel part of something so crystalline but never taken for granted; everyone obviously considered her crazy but she kept insisting that she could get her way. Every time he told something he always asked me โ€œCan you understand me?โ€; I couldn't then but today, floating in this immense blue in which I no longer feel alone and imposing, I would just like to answer her loudly "Yes".
Summer is where things happen. Encounters, clashes, wounds, treatments... it's washing with the sea and drying with the wind; crumpled clothes, darting, sirocco in the face. I run without a swimsuit, I kick the last ball... I turn up the volume, my mouth is wide open, speechless, breathless, money. I go by bike, by boat, by doll. Walk on rocks; my broken sandals. I talk to the fish, I talk to her, I talk about things I'm about to understand! Stellar summer, memories, visions, mosquitoes...We are leaving, we are not leaving, no plans. Bad luck for a nap, another hour's walk; under the sun the storm the planetary party... I'll do the math when I'm back: you owe me three kisses. But now I still pray for some sun, some kisses to this marvel. The night, dark, stars, the moon grows...decreases: it looks like us. 


I look out the window. What a dark night. Just below the house some street lamps illuminate the street, and the lines of the windows are clearer; then your gaze flies a few blocks away, and you don't understand where, in that black, the houses rise and end. The night is scarier, because you look around you and it's cold, and you don't quite understand what's happening, because it's all so dark and confused. But then there they are, the lights. A thousand lights that dampen the gloomy and dark air of the night. Whether they are far or near, they illuminate and kill the black with color strokes. And never as during the night, colors win over black. Date: every fucking day. I lie down on the bed. It's night? Yes, it's always night inside me. Also because night rhymes with blows, routes, fights, blows, blows. Inside me everything is so messed up that even day rhymes with night. Inside me it makes everything scarier. Because I am always cold, acidic, impregnated with memories, cut by pain. Because I never understand what I do; right? Wrong? They are formalities. People judge me anyway, they trample me. But then there they are, the bright and cheerful memories, those few but good friends, the passions and the family. What I love to do, what I want to become. The stories people tell me. The experiences and the lessons, the memories, the memories. They are what carries me forward, that helps me fight that black inside me. They are my colors. And never as in people's lives, colors win against black.
I did the costume fitting. Naked, I looked in the mirror, it had been a long time since I did.

Holy shit, I'm more beautiful now than twenty years ago, had it happened in the past I would have spared myself so much sadness.

Okay, I said to myself, better now than ever, take care of yourself and think about your health.

I have to say, I'm doubly proud of myself. First of all because perhaps I have never had such a splendid b-side, then because I am enjoying many beautiful days in good company by the sea and this is very good for me.

It was not easy to carve out some days for a vacation but you always have to find the time.

Girls, trust nature and yourself, don't care what society demands of you, wrongly. You are always worth it. Dress up and be proud of yourself and your body, whatever shape it is.
My hair got more wavy. Every time I get out of the water they are all stuck and tangled but then after the shower, when I dry them they become waves of sun. They say it is the salt of this sea water. I don't know but it looks like I'm going blonde.


A year ago I met a boy, it was summer and instead of getting lost in the sea I was lost in the ocean of his eyes. I think I left the best part of me in those eyes. I met a boy, in a strange way, almost like life was having fun putting happiness in front of me and in an aimless race never to give it to me. He was different, I immediately realized, perhaps because I was basically the same as him. It was different, he still saw stars where others only described bright spots. He still believed in great love, that of old-time novels, while the others were content with false ties. He still hoped, believed and loved beyond explanation. And among the things he loved, I too ended up. I loved his kisses, how he held me close and how he was able to protect me with a single hug from the shit of the world. I loved the way he looked at me or the way our hands fit together perfectly. But more than anything else I loved how he thought, his speeches, his words, his every idea gave me life again and I didn’t want life anymore. They danced in the street, we were enchanted in front of a sunset, we sang in every square, we made love with our eyes, with our souls and only finally with our bodies. There was no corner of that small seaside town that we did not make ours. That city had its scent, and at the mere idea of โ€‹โ€‹returning there I know that I would cry until it flooded it like Venice after a storm. I envy those who were lucky enough to always have it with them, but I believe that no one will ever understand it. He was different and even I sometimes didn’t know how to translate his gestures. His heart belonged to distant times. His soul was tied to some distant star. That boy shone with his own light. Our love was never understood, but when did it ever happen that madness was understood? Our love was madness. It was passion that burned with the same intensity with which a thousand Suns burn. It was desire that flared up and wore out every particle of our body, that desire that was every man’s fault. It was friendship that Plato described as the most honorable of human bonds, able to make us understand our deepest souls and dreams with a single glance. Our love was never known to mankind. And God I loved that boy so much I forgot even what hate was. And I never wanted to be taken away. A year ago I met a boy, but that boy never had the opportunity to know happiness.


I want the sea, the sunlight that shines on the skin, the color of the sky reflected on the sea and that feeling of when I was a child, that sense of celebration, vacation and magic of when school is over and you were ready for adventures, to loves, and to the first outings in the evening, late. Summer brings with it the nostalgia and the novelty of a time to be experienced.
At the beginning of this last summer, I woke up one day and told myself that I had to turn off my mind, calm down my thoughts. It has been a difficult year, 2020, it has been decidedly heavy. I needed to let go, let go in the sense that I didn’t want to worry, at least for a while. I lived, as they say, as it came. I didn’t worry about the alarm clock, the things to do, the things not to do. I needed it and I was fine for a while, to be honest I was pretty good all season.
Maybe, one day you will realize that the laughter at a bar table then stays there and you don’t take it home. Maybe, one day you will realize that those who like you, only look for you when they feel like having a little fun. Maybe, one day you will realize that whoever tells you that that shirt looks good on you has no intention of taking it off. Maybe one day you will realize that someone asks you how the weekend went, just to be able to tell you theirs. Maybe, one day you will realize that those who tell you that things will change don’t even think about it and say it only because they are tired of hearing how dissatisfied you are. Maybe, one day you will realize that no one knows what song you sing when you are carefree, what sweatshirt you wear when you are at home, where you keep your childhood memories, what is hanging on your wall, what positions you sleep in, if when you dine keep the television on, how long it takes you to take a shower and many other things that will seem insignificant but at some point you will feel the need to let someone know. Maybe, one day you will realize that happiness is not everywhere but always a little too far away. Maybe, one day you will realize that love was next to you, even if you looked away and tried in vain to find other names to define it, to define us.
A guy told me how he is without his girlfriend and left me speechless She will never come back, it is useless to delude oneself, because after all she didn’t really exist. What I think? I think I can see her someday, I hope so. And well what I feel, I feel all the love I could have given her. I wonder where all this love that we give to people who are not there, who prefer not to be, is going to end. I wonder where all the love I feel for her is going to end. Space? Land? Abyss? Or in some black hole in the universe, created especially for us, for impossible loves like ours. A sort of container of love, a box created to contain loves that go, that are lost and never come back. And I refuse to believe that my love for her can be contained in a vessel. It is too strong, it is free, without chains, it has no limits, it knows neither space nor time. He will be lost somewhere who knows where to look for what he has left of her. Eventually it will explode into the universe, and every single piece of that love so ineffable and pure will give life to a star. Thus, at night, whenever she looks at the sky, she will not see simple stars, but single fragments that have come into the world to love her.
Do not take anyone to see the sea, which is an important thing, it is not a trivial matter. Going with someone to see the sea is not like going to the bar, to see the shop windows in the square or to get an ice cream. It really is so much more. To look at the sea bring us someone who shares the silence with you, it is difficult to find it, but if you find it you have no escape. You see it as if you were in another world, a world where silence is enough to understand each other. A world of your own. Bring us someone you don’t have to talk to, because the sea is a silent film that surprises you for the colors, for the sensations it causes in your stomach and for the noises of the waves that make you feel in a balanced situation. But what really counts, of the sea, are the nuances. As with everything beautiful on the other hand. Bring us those who have been able to show you that you are worth much more than what you think, than what you would expect, someone who makes you a priority and not a pastime. That person who can hear your innermost tragedies, without thinking that they are trivial and irrelevant things. To see the sea, bring us those who can understand you without speaking, who will pick you up if you go away, who gives you the opportunity to lean on his shoulder when you fall, who if looking into your eyes, incredibly notice a little you. That person who, when he looks up to the sky, reads your name. Bring us someone just like that, who makes you feel chaos inside and a magical person outside, full of life. You will seem to see something amazing, shocking, fascinating and for the first time in your life it will seem like you are seeing the sea, because you have never seen it like this.


This is D&G Spring and Summer dresses and I love all these colors and I hope you can dream of the sea and the sun and many beautiful things looking at these dresses, which represent all the colors of Sicily

๐Ÿ˜Š ๐Ÿ˜Š ๐Ÿ˜Š


At 19 she was drugged and raped. At 20 he gets up and invents a handkerchief that can detect the presence of rape drugs inside the cocktails.

Danya Sherman was born in 1997.

In 2015 he enrolled at George Washington University to study international relations.

In the summer of 2016 he flew to Spain for a study experience.

Here, one evening, she is drugged and raped by an acquaintance of hers.

This difficult experience deeply traumatizes Danya.

Once back in the United States, she tells her friends about what happened and discovers that she is not alone.

At this point she realizes she has to do something to prevent the same thing from happening to other women as well.

In 2017 he thus created KnoNap, a handkerchief capable of detecting the presence of rape drugs in cocktails.

A few drops of the cocktail are enough and, in case of drug presence, the handkerchief changes color.

Danya's idea is to create a product that is discreet and that restaurants and bars can use instead of normal napkins.

Today Danya is the founder of a startup that aims to help women defend themselves from rape drugs.

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