I love myself..I believe

I’m happy to be  me because I’m honest with myself, because I like my thoughts.

Sometimes I really keep me good company .

The thing is.. when someone’s always by your side no matter what, what you feel?

So, I’m grateful I ‘m still in one piece.

Look at me, I’ve been through some holes to hell!

I faced my fears, I’m still looking back from time to time, but what to do with something you never chose?

You don’t choose to lose someone, you don’t choose when the grim is going for a visit, it comes!

I’m on my feet and I’m in good company,I have love and I have to stop with these fears of loss.

I felt abandoned in my childhood, but to lose in these days that’s a different kettle of fish.

I’m fine, I have a dream, I need a project, everybody needs, to go on.

I’m writing every time I can and obviously it’s a hard thing to do, ’cause it’s like the universe notices it sending me distractions every minute.

I’m stubborn with this purpose, I’ll do it.

Don’t worry! I’m writing the story in italian, I know my english is good enough just to communicate, not to write really!

If a day, maybe, let me dream… It will score, maybe you’ll read it.

 

 

When the leaf falls down

If the leaf come off the tree, it’s not its fault.

Isn’t the wind fault for blowing and blowing tireless, deceitful bringing his whispered tune?

Isn’t the branch fault for shaking with every knock coming from below?

Isn’t the time fault for turning the seasons with his eternal swapping dance?

From the wood the leaf is shot, wavering in the wake of air, lulling in the trembling breeze, gathering with the family remains.

Suddenly a golden carpet on the streets,when you lay  your step down magic is here and the children sing and celebrate, jumping their happiness around.

The guy from nowhere

There was a little place, so little you could see the end of it by the corner of the street. There was a family in the village, so hungry for a better living,but miserably alone.

One day  a guy  came in the little place, looking for something new. The family was delighted, they coud use some good company. The guy became part of it, always keen to get down to work, always smiling at the others, always there. Everything was perfect, nobody to break their happiness. Everyone was working hard and helping each other to get the most of it. Time went by, parents grew old, the children grew up, but the guy never changed, he alway seemed the same guy who came in, years ago. The daughter looked at him in a different way, the guy was shy at first, he was always kind and smiling, but felt awkward about these new feelings. Day by day they came closer, no one noticed that, but a smile back above the other heads, a hand softly touching a hand, an eye looking for an other eye, their feeling grew bigger. One day, after dinner, the guy stepped outside, staring at the dark sky, looking for a star. He felt cold, but stood and started a whispered prayer. In a moment he felt embraced, so warm and soft and tight. He opened his eyes and found himself  entrapped in her arms. Tears came down his cold cheeks, he took her hands and kissed them so grateful for the present. She went in front of him to gaze at him and as the nature teaches, she learnt to kiss.

Every beautiful flower loses his petals someday, so their love became the start of the end. The old parents rejected the guy with no age, he was no use anymore, he couldn’t take their girl away.

When the night came back to earth, the guy took the girl with him by hand, the family was screaming loud. Her mother crying, her father swearing, the brothers astonished could not understand, they never felt for someone.

The two of them did not hear, did not see, he opened his wings and held her tight. They flew away and never come back.

The broken mirror

Every single time I left myself in disguise, I cuold see clearly the shadow, the dark side in the narrow street, coming closer and closer taking my breath away.

I close my eyes as I smash the mirror. The mask goes down into broken pieces, the captive soul regain new freedom.

Every day’s a song, telling a story, every story’s a place where I belong to.

 

On writing thoughts and other stuff

I’m a free writer. I’m free because I write what I like best, I’m free because nobody pays me for that!

I have fantasies in my mind living and going, so I need to write them down, for shearing, for my peace of mynd and for the great pleasure that someone who stops here gives me.

This is my first presentation, but not really, I have another blog in my first (only?) language yet. I’d like to have a try with this one too, we’ll see.

So, good night, ’cause I’m sleeping with open eyes and welcome here.

Felina