I want to taste your heart,
clean up your coronaries,
licking the dirty blood that has remained nestled in some corner of your existential substratum.
I want to suck every puzzle you couldn't solve.
Swirl.
Voracious as an eagle.
Pilot your soul and make hell reopen.
Save yourself.
Salts.
Above this ray of light the storm hides.
Sand and snow together.
We will play a sublime game together.
We will be hearts.
Hail.
Submarines in the veins.
Fast.
Bold.
We will flap feathers on every flight, out, out.
How do you learn to walk? How do you learn to be reborn? It starts from a shell, the armor that welcomes the soul, a fire that becomes embers continues to feed a force, it is expanding energy, it is a reaction that causes a flame, it brings back life. It is a crust that breaks, the shell that lets in a crack; it is the moment in which what is inside presses, takes possession of its space, the lung that absorbs oxygen and swells with each breath, it is the sleepy eyes that wake up slowly, morning dew, breeze that carries perfumes, silent communications of nature, everything slowly returns to be heard. It’s having patience, being born and screaming, and crying, and giving voice to emotions, being afraid, too afraid, and not having the courage, and being afraid. Smell life and be afraid of it. How I suffer while I am reborn! I suffer from love and repressed feelings, I suffer from tired anger, I suffer from memories left in the past, they tear the last flaps before granting me relief. I bless and I curse, I curse and I bless. I laugh with pain, I cry with joy. And I’m afraid. I keep my eyes closed in the light that makes its way between the thin eyelids, the clearness of the skin reveals the green, purple veins, a new blood flows strong: rich, healthy, uncontaminated, vaccine, vial of life, antibiotic that burns and melts what rotten stagnates. everything returns to bloom. I begin to live again.
I have a strange relationship with doors. I never lock them. Rather I approach them. It’s a flaw, I think. Lack of courage, perhaps. But I happen to not close the doors. I let events do it. After all, who am I to determine who has to get out of my life forever? Generally, those who take another path do it alone. Very quietly. A step at a time. One choice after another. So, I leave it open. Because you never know. Maybe one day whoever had gone out, shows up in front of that door, and finding it open, sits down for a coffee. And if enough time has passed, enough pride, and enough pain, I’ll ask – How much sugar? My dear friend clear your mind of all “can’t”. This sentence was said by a stranger, but I think it was the sentence that had the most impact on me. It is not a very compressed aphorism, it highlights a truth without too many words. All the “I can’t / I can’t / I can’t” are just walls that we build and that don’t allow us to succeed. Success is not necessarily being rich it sucks to be successful is something easier and more beautiful, success is in the little things. We must be happy with ourselves when we set ourselves a goal and we manage to achieve it, the key is precisely this, to complete not having reached perfection. If only I could walk between the chiaroscuro of your irises, light up my days with the lights of your every memory, if only I had the key of that French garden which makes the contours of your face guiding breath for each completed painting; if only i could stay there, stop, waiting for your name, your veins like purple wisteria, your skin like peony petals, and listen to the rhythm of your beats touch the shores of the lake and make them tremble in the reflection of the other half of the sky.
The green-eyed girl watched the falling rain hit the window; the drops competed to finish first, it was like a competition and the first one that arrived disappeared into thin air.
A bit like life.
Life is a constant race of speed, only those who keep running find their way while the others get lost halfway and in order not to waste time they take another one that leads them to unhappiness.
Then there are those like the girl with the emerald eyes who from the beginning do not know which way to take and remain at the starting point waiting for someone to pick them up and take them on the right path.
But that someone will never come.
Her eyes slaughtered by the night.
She who in her eyes had the routes to the moon.
She who was cold inside, the cold that freezes your veins.
She who no longer believed in love, she didn't want a guardian angel.
Those eyes have seen too many things for the few years he has.
Her eyes always on the edge of the precipice.
Always ready for the explosion.
They say that crying is good, good for the soul
But when your soul is too tormented where nothing makes sense they are just wasted tears.
Like, have you ever confused the dream with reality?
Have you ever been high?
Did you believe that your train was moving while it was stopped?
Maybe I was just a little girl and that's it.
The human being is divided into two parts: one he knows and the other he has to meet. And when the latter arrives, it is easier than you think to understand that in those eyes, in those lips, in that smile, there is the other half. You feel it on your skin, in your veins. You feel your heart beating, you feel a strange interest in that person you just met, but so attracting attention that you don’t understand why. And when you begin to create a real relationship, made no longer of looks, but of constant dialogue, you understand that you cannot separate from your person. Because once they are reunited it is as if each fabric is glued back together, found again. Every muscle, every organ, inextricably linked.Once in a lifetime, something happens. The meeting of two souls who, despite having been apart for a long time, have never really been separated. In fact, only once in my life, I found Love, and it happened at the exact moment I met your eyes. I understood that distances are not real, because all that is most real is our being, very distant from what we see only with the eyes, or that we perceive only with the senses and interpret with our mind. There is something beyond any kind of rationality, and love is the only way to understand it. Once in my life, I met you. But for how many lifetimes we will still meet, always in the same place, that place without time or space. Where our eyes will still recognize each other and the doors to infinity will open.You never let go of your hands, you hold tight, with eyes cast down to others, and it’s an ocean, girl, that silence of yours, and it’s beautiful blue waves, messages of love in a bottle of precious crystal. They are in the courtyard. You are a boat in the middle of the sea. And they laugh, rumor new loves, and they are enough, and they talk to each other, lowering their voices, getting closer, when they look at you, in that corner only yours, while you smile at the ants, without ever being able to see you. Your pain is the ocean, fragile girl, and they would drown, believe me, in your great sea, in your glaring depths, in the wonderful invisible world that you are. Let them believe, therefore, that you are left out, that you are the excluded, that they are together, that you are alone, desperately alone. Let them believe, twin flame! I feel like hugging you, even if I don’t know you, even if I’ve never seen you; hug you and tell you that everything is fine, that we are the ones together, even if together, due to time and space, we have never been there. Yet, that corner was mine, once upon a time, and no one, besides us, has ever noticed all that sea, all that deep, this boundless ocean of ours!
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 