WAITING FOR SOMETHING

There are those days when you no longer understand anything, what up to a second before gave you happiness, makes you nervous, that thing that gave you suffering, becomes pathetic. In a few moments, everything loses sense and you feel like in a bubble, enclosed with your apathy, while the world around you goes on. Maybe some individual expresses perplexity, almost anger towards you, wondering and wondering, the why of all this … But you can’t answer yourself, let alone them and then you stay inside, waiting for the arrival of something or someone who instead of continuing to soap you, it will be able to burst your barrier and make you feel alive, again. During these two years of imprisonment I have clung to words and promises that very often people make based on the circumstances, the moments of darkness. When this life returns to “normal” these words will have vanished, forgotten, because supported by a general illusion of being able to be better than what we really are. We are human. We need comfort and a foothold in our worst days. As soon as we get better we will behave exactly as we have always behaved. There is a pre-pandemic and a post-pandemic. The present we are experiencing is just a parenthesis that contains everything we would like to be but that our pride and our selfishness will extinguish as soon as possible.

GENTLE SOUL

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.