Once upon a time there was a little girl who loved butterflies very much. She wore brightly colored clothes and, when she spoke, she moved her small arms with such lightness that they looked like vibrant wings in flight. His gait also brought with it that lightness that only butterflies naturally possess. And like butterflies he loved flowers and took great care of them.
With his mother in spring he planted bulbs and seeds and waited patiently. His little brother, still small, watched amused.
He had become her little messy little helper! At the first warmth, a leaf appears, a slender cuff, the first flower, then many others, all beautiful in their shapes and shades of their colors. Soon many beautiful butterflies would also arrive!
And the little girl was delighted and remained enchanted for hours watching that spectacle of lightness, colors and perfumes. Sometimes it happened that a butterfly would rest on her hand and the little girl was almost breathless with emotion. It remained motionless to enjoy the beauty of those colored wings and the tickle of those curious paws.
One day his little brother got a bad flu and had to stay in bed for several days. The little girl was very sorry to see her little brother suffering and sad. Then he thought of a surprise that could brighten his days. It immediately occurred to her to prepare a short story about flowers and butterflies. While his little brother was dozing, he wrote a very sweet story and prepared a merry-go-round made with wood twigs tied together, to which he hung colorful butterflies made with tufts of his mother's carded wool. When the little brother opened his eyes after his afternoon nap, the baby was there, ready, next to him. She smiled at him and started reading his story. The little brother listened raptly, in silence, with sparkling eyes.
Eventually the little girl took the mobile and showed it to her little brother. Quick as a flash he took it with his little hands and began to play with it, moving the sticks to make all those beautiful butterflies flutter.
Soon the little brother was back to health and that mobile became the best


And he sees that that light comes from a doll, all broken, with the heart made of a light bulb .. and the puppet thinks, she will be my wife .. but when the doll approaches, her heart of wax melts.
How am I going to love you now that I no longer have a heart, the doll holds the heart in her arms .. and detaches the light bulb from her chest and says "if you love me one heart will be enough for both of us".


Smoke comes out of the tea next to me. I follow its evolutions in the air, completely random and at the same causal, dictated only by the micro-movements of the atmosphere around the cup. Most of the things that happen to us behave exactly the same way: they seem to be dictated exclusively by chance while in reality they follow very specific rules, they are conditioned by events, choices and reasonings to which we do not pay attention, because most of the time we are not even aware that we are breathing, let alone what we do. Rational thinking is the greatest deception of the human being because it makes us believe that we are masters of ourselves but it is not so and in fact this same reasoning is not primarily the result of my thought, and it is not even rational but, on the contrary, dictated by emotions that lie beneath layers and layers of logical constructs aimed at making sense of the fact that I am writing yet another post sentimental here. Here you see, the last sentence is the world beyond the veil, the deceit discovered, the emotion that crushes and annihilates reasoning.

And so I was not aware of anything, or more precisely, I was aware of little, because I have always done a bit of self-analysis but as always I underestimated the control I have over myself, little, especially when it comes to feelings . And it makes me angry to know that the reason was never mine, that I missed something right once, that I didn't know anything about how it would go, rather that I said to myself that it would go wrong to fool myself into being in control while imagining something that wasn't going to happen. existed. I was aware that I was deluding myself and I was deluding myself all the same, because in fact, I lack control.

And even right now I'm missing it. This post did like smoke from my cup, deceptively random evolutions. Now the tea has cooled down, no more smoke, that's it.


"Grandma, I can't stand a person."

"Bless her, my child. Because she is showing you parts of yourself that you cannot accept. You see them reflected in her. They hurt you, like blades entering your depth, because it is the only way to attract your attention. Thanks to you can see that person and integrate them into you. "

"Should I bless those who can't stand?"

"That's right! Everything that happens outside of you is a mirror of your inner self. It is showing you the way to enrich yourself more and more. Change your way of thinking about life. Fly high with your mind: look for the symbol, the meaning that your emotion has come to carry you, begin to see every person you meet in your path as a reflection of parts of you. Don't waste time on stupid complaints, superficial chatter and the usual prejudices. You have a treasure to find. Every time. your energies in this great task! "

"What an effort, grandmother ..."

"It is more tiring to stop complaining. And carry it like a burden, day after day. It immobilizes you, takes away precious energy, hinders you. Become a hunter of meaning. Go beyond people, facts, news."

"I do not know how to do it..."

"There is only one teacher who can guide you in this. You will never find it outside of you. It is your feeling. Your annoyance, your well-being, your anger ... are messengers of your Truth."

"And how do I integrate the parts of me that I don't welcome?"

"Respect what you feel, celebrate it, lift it up. Every emotion is sacred: if you can glimpse even a minimum of richness, the rest will come by itself. You will have new eyes, able to see beyond any wall. They are the eyes of your soul. ! "


All the stories that I publish here in the posts are present in my collection of stories "KIMERA" which is on Wattpad, so if someone wants to browse the other stories or read some other work of mine, I mean novels, they can go to my page of Wattpad and read and comment there. If you are also subscribed to Wattpad please give me your links so I will come and read your works too. Thanks everyone for reading me and have a nice weekend. The link for my stories is this:

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As a child I had a beautiful book, because when I pushed the button set in a hard cardboard page, a sweet melody played.
I always leafed through it and looked at the pictures carefully.
On the last page, the musical one, there were two characters; a boy, kneeling with the guitar in his hand, under the window of a girl always looking out on the balcony, who smiled with red cheeks and bright eyes, who listened.
My grandmother told me that that scene represented the "serenade", and it happens when two people love each other.
Every time I looked at those images I always dreamed that, even when I grew up, I would have a boyfriend who, when he missed me, would run to me with the guitar and that he had begun to sing me a sweet poem in such a way as to get me out of the house and be able to see me.
It had become my fixed thought, my desire.
I scrolled through the pages of the book, and I imagined myself living those fantastic scenes.
When the boy handed me a bouquet of flowers, when he opened the door for me, when he held my hand and we walked near a lake, and then let me get on a boat and enjoy the sunset on the water.
And of course when he came to serenade me in the evening.
It was all so beautiful, so perfect.
Then time passed, I became a girl, my body changed but my thoughts didn't.
I was still hoping to find the "boy from the book", but it seemed impossible as most of the people I met didn't even know that the "serenade" existed.
I don't know where that book ended up, but I didn't find any more like it.Then, one day, as I was walking absently and thoughtfully, my foot got stuck in a crack and I fell to the sidewalk.
Quick, someone rushed to my aid.
He lifted me off the ground and I could see a boy who looked my age, with emerald eyes and black hair, matted on his skull.
I had peeled my knee and he was already begging me.
Her skin was pale and soft, it looked like silk.
While he was healing my wounds he asked me how I was, how I felt ... And we started talking.
Then when he was done he looked me in the eye.
I looked him in the eye.
He smiles at me.
I smiled at him.
And I realized that I didn't want to get lost in other eyes and kiss other smiles.

He didn't have his cell phone with him, so I wrote my phone number in his arm.We went out, he showed up at my door and gave me a bouquet of roses.
He always held my hand, offered me ice cream or hot chocolate, hugged me when I was cold.
For my birthday, I heard pebbles hit the glass of my windows.
I opened them, leaned out of the balcony and found him, kneeling on the ground, with a guitar in his hand, dedicating a poem to me for my birthday.Today I was at his house to do my homework together.
I was looking for a tire, but I couldn't find it anywhere.
I opened a drawer to look for it and widened my eyes when I saw a big old book, with cardboard pages and a button that, as soon as I pressed it, a sweet melody came out.
He entered the room and smiled at me embarrassed, confessing that while he was walking down the street, some time ago, he found that book next to a dumpster.
He picked it up and opened it, and the and he liked it so much that he took it with him.
I didn't say anything, just smiled at him and he kissed me.

I don't know if it was fate, or karma or fate or the forces of the universe… I just know it happened, and I couldn't be happier than now.

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