FINGERS OF NATURE

It is fascinating. Nature is wonderful, she has managed to create beautiful things by herself, of perfect symmetry, all so calculated and precise. The leaves, the flowers, us, even if not perfectly. But it’s all calculated right? We were created to be imperfect and however we try to achieve perfection we will never be, neither physically nor morally. What then, who decides that something is perfect or imperfect? Which is right or wrong? What is good or bad? Who is stupid or smart? What is weird or normal? What is it that really makes it so? It’s just our idea. So theoretically symmetry does not exist and exists. Perfection does not exist and exists. All in contrast with everything. The stars are fascinating. They are very large, much larger than our planet and yet they are there, bright dots that shine in the sky, a hint of color in the dark, forming constellations, forming dreams, galaxies, galaxies of dreams. They are there in the sky, so far away, so close, that if you put yourself on your toes, it seems that you can touch them with your hand, but you cannot. The water, what the hell, is beautiful. The surface tension, its clarity, its necessity. But I don’t understand why nature hasn’t made it available to everyone. Then the matter, that everything is made up of everything.
There is no end of matter, a thing created first of all. The universe, which cannot be infinite, come on, everything has an end. Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring, Life, The Earth, Stories, Kisses, Friendships, Loves, Roads, Travels, Holidays, Nights, Days, Weeks , Months, years, sheets, notebooks, the most beautiful books, everything. And the numbers? How can they be infinite? They are not. There are many combinations, Infinite, But we manage to pronounce them up to a certain point, then we start with the astronomical unit, with the light years. And then nature has given us everything, even the possibility of hurting ourselves, it is up to us to choose what to do, it has made us totally free. Have you ever thought about all this? To fate? Exists? In my opinion, yes. A story written somewhere. Two people destined to meet, two people who will fail together, but not alone, two people who together will overcome everything. A person destined to be born to change the world, a savior on this unjust and infamous planet. But who created all this? And remember that the case does not exist, it is not that one day two planets decided by CASE to collide and create the Earth, right? You see, it’s all so wonderful, fascinating, twisted. All so beautifully beautiful.

WEIRD FASHION STYLE

Why do certain clothes look absurd?
Because that's how fashion is: it doesn't just create clothes and trends, it's an art form that provokes an emotional reaction and prompts us to ask ourselves who we are. And this is what we writers do when we express ourselves. We do not want to tell about us or seduce someone but only arouse reactions and emotions.
Jean-Paul Gualtier is one of those internationally renowned designers who always inspires a lot of joy, and when I lived in London I met him personally and he was very nice. Especially for the irony of his fashion, as he demonstrated for the umpteenth time during the last spring haute couture show, when he dedicated the collection to his mentor Pierre Cardin, in an explosion of Space Age and Swinging 60s. Gualtier is a man who seems born on purpose to be the center of attention, one who knows how to monopolize the eyes thanks to a smile and the desire to play. As happened during the Twister challenge with Alessandro Cattelan during the late show And then there is Cattelan. L’enfant terrible, as the designer has often been nicknamed, is also preparing for his one man show to be held next October during the Parisian Fashion Freak Show. Now that Gaultier is no longer an enfant, his history is worth retracing.
Nicknamed the “enfant terrible” of fashion, his goal has always been to go against the tide: kilt suits for men, conical bustiers for women … In 1983, he devises and launches the concept of toy boy, the man dressed as a blue sailor which would eventually become his trademark.
Jean Paul Gaultier himself with fashion skirt

STRANGE GIRLS

I’m that weird girl, yes weird. You know? The one who, among friends, is stupid and laughs, for everything. The one who prefers to cry in the bedroom alone and not in front of everyone. The one with the moments of madness and the paranoid ones. The one that gives meaning to every bracelet on her wrist. The one who prefers to take the picture and not be there. The one that keeps everything. The one who loses everything: keys, headphones, buses, people, respect. The one who asks “sorry” even when the fault is not his. The one who lives every single place and book. The one who imagines what she wants by her side, everywhere. The messy one. The one with complicated thoughts, which no one understands. The one who loves hugs more than kisses. The one who loves to write and not smoke. The one who, to be happy, does not need drugs but the smile of those she loves. The one who does not look for people for fear of annoying. The one who never writes to anyone but waits. The one with the smudged makeup at parties. The grumpy one, who responds badly. The one who would like to be kinder, but has that anger inside that, sometimes, ruins the good speeches she would like to make. The one that puts others first and then herself. The one who gives others what she would like to receive. The strange one. So, do you have this in mind? Here, it’s me. “
They are a human contradiction. I have no faith in myself, but I am self-centered. I want to do many things and I always have a thousand projects in mind, but I want to die. I want to make people believe that I am strong, but I cry all the time. In every situation I am indifferent and detached, but everything wounds me to death because I am hypersensitive. When I get up, every morning, I want to be happy and start the day well, but I also want to never get up and sleep forever.
There are those days where you feel the world is collapsing on you and you don’t want to see or hear anyone but you have to face everything. You get the urge to disappear, to go away but you don’t know where to go and so you look at yourself, you observe yourself and you ask yourself “what the fuck am I doing here? Why do I make so many mistakes? Why do I wither everything I meet? Everything ends and I am the cause. I am the person who while loving you, at the same time kills you. Where the more you stay together the more you suffer, where it is impossible to continue because I am impossible, irrecoverable, paranoid and irascible. I just have to leave myself to fate, to hope for a better day than today, yesterday and even before.
Alice, it was better to stay in Wonderland, don’t you think? Reality isn’t what you imagined, is it? But tell me, what did you think it was like to grow up? You always wanted to be happy. You didn’t think there was so much pain in the world. You thought they were all there, ready to stop your falls. You thought you were going to be a star someday. And now you are there, Alice, sitting in that dark corner, with that blood coming out of her arms, legs and soul. And cry, Alice. Cry, because you can’t take it anymore. Cry, because you stopped fighting. Cry, because you are not enough. Cry, because you are one too many. You cry, because you no longer know anything. Cry, why do you dry their tears but who dries yours? Cry, because your eyes can no longer hold all those tears trapped. Cry, because you are a mistake. Cry, because you are a disappointment. Cry, because you are like that. You cry, because you no longer find reason to continue breathing. You cry, because you have finished living for a while. Cry, because the monsters who lived under your bed grew up with you and moved into your head. Cry, because you want to end it. You cry, because you are too afraid to end it. You cry, because you are afraid. You call the White Rabbit, you want to be led back to Wonderland. You scream, you scream, he doesn’t hear you. Look at you, Alice. Where did you go? Why did you let yourself go? Alice will pass, you’ll see. Alice, you’ll be fine. Alice, Alice, why is it all dark around you? Alice have you gone away? Alice, Alice, do you see me from up there? Alice how much blood did you leave here. Is there any piece of your heart, in the midst of all this red? Alice, you were so little. So fragile. And to think, that it was enough just for someone to take care of you. Alice, Alice, Alice. Now in Wonderland you will stay there forever, aren’t you happy?

%d bloggers like this: