Just Maybe Forse Ciao

A thousands colourful balloons, today are all blowing up. A dozen blossomed roses , today are withering. A celestial voice , today cannot come out. Silent are the eyes, plugged are the mouths, covered are the ears. And the sound of joy cannot be heard, the bells of the feast will be far away, The laughters will be slowed down on the mouths. Today, Amie doesn't feel like pretending that everything is fine, and she is complete. She is not fine,  she is not complete. She is missing, and she doesn't care that everyone is supposed to be laughing and she is not laughing at all, and she doesn't care that everyone will just judge her mad. Amie doesn't feel like caring today, she just needs this last day to be over. She needs to kill the fairies,  as Joel did.

I've been shot. Drop dead. I got up and saw the hole in my heart. Can I watch through it? And see what's beyond? How could I walk with a hole in my heart? asked Amie. A hole? The hole I have today cause I miss him more than usual. Why today? Because this is the last year that will treasure a memory of us. OK. Fine. Carry on, Amie, carry on. How could I walk with a hole in my heart? wondered Amie. Why is there a hole in the heart in the first place? Just because he left? No. There's more. Maybe because he was essential after all. Not only and no, no-one is essential. Or maybe yes. This is not the point. How could I walk with a hole in my heart? cried Amie. Someone has removed something from my heart and I don't know what. He shot an incurably romantic right into her heart. What was there, where he shot? Love. Belief. Trust. And Love again. And now the opposite. The opposite of Love is just Void . The absence of action wha...

I am singing songs at the back of a bike. Then a dream. Where I ask if his problems have come back again. They have, of course they have. A dream where I kiss and get kissed back, because of VVV . And you all, you all don't know what it is, right? Because it was just mine and his, the VVV. VVV was a sign, my wish for him to be honest and intimate with me. The dream, tonight, of questions answered for the first time, and of passion lived for the first time. Cause for us passion was trapped and impossible to release. He knows that in dreams. A dream of transformation , that kind of transformation possible only in dreams, where people realize what needs to be realized and let themselves go to what their hearts really wish. A dream, tonight, where VVV was again the keyword for a love lived, gone and refused.

"Green is not the new black. Hasn't anyone else noticed that everyone is going insane? Why are they all so afraid of seeing things as they really are? Slogans like this succeed in distracting us from what really matter. There's no way out. I want people to know that I prefer killing myself and not participate to the collective madness of the world we are living in. This world is not real. " (Veronika Decides To Die) *************************************************** I am fine. Sure I am. Someone destroyed me, but my pieces are all here, still, on the floor of my soul. I can go out and laugh with friends, I can go to work, come back home, do the laundry, write on my blog, answer to emails. Then on another evening I will watch a movie, go out, meet people, meet guys, have sex with them, cause I know how to be sexy and how to play innocent and both things drive men crazy in bed. I will not reach an orgasm, I will fake it most of the times , just t...

A primitive gesture, a smile saying: and the fairies? Five teardrops rolling to their destination. My black sheets.  And your uneasiness.  And a goodbye too soon . Heir of a never faced pain, but always sensed, here I am in this dancing night. An impalpable mood, a love even more ethereal. And in the erotism of my thoughts, ecstasy and fantasy are making love. I am not pervaded anymore, but, I narrate it, for the joy of those who listen. In that cautious and mature awareness of the power of the words. And tomorrow I'll wake up too late.  And you won't face it neither tomorrow.  And I will sow insanity tomorrow, again. My shivers, tomorrow. My curves, without hope, without play, without voluptuousness, given to who doesn't know what to do with them. And everyone can think bad of me , of my dirty games, of my anxious scratching and scraping to find out what is beneath the surface. And please everyone, do.  I won't exist but for those who can ...

Are you being serious? Are you really coming up here? Are you really booking that flight today and be here tomorrow? What will everyone think? What will everyone say? 'Everybody will think and say just what they are supposed to think and say, besides, who cares?'.  'I am becoming indifferent to everyone, actually I find them all rather stupid, boring, uncapable of appreciating what I feel, for you, for the whole situation'. Well, what I wanted to say is that everyone will be so excited, so amazed by your coming here tomorrow..as am I.  You are the perfect girlfriend! 'Ah well, if I were, you wouldn't leave me in 9 months time, precisely because you will see and think as everyone sees and thinks.  Besides, who wants to be perfect today? If perfection is simplicity, if achieving perfection for you is made through imperfect gestures ignoring nuances. And I can be elegant, not simple. I want to grow and learn, not be perfect'

Christmas. It is Christmas. Finally Arrived. Soon gone. Thank God. Hatefully Christmas. No Jesus,  No Saints,  No Madonna. Just a day,  This year. Special for whom? For him and her,  and parents saying 'Merry Christmas'? Merry Christmas,  for what? Meaning what? To reach the next one? To have someone to share it with? And anaesthetized 'hand in hand'  for feeling someone else's hand,  for believing someone is near,  for doing whatever it is that one is supposed to do,  at Christmas,  hold hands,  Kiss cheeks and lips,  Saying I love you, without any meaning. Just because it is Christmas,  and at Christmas you should forget and omit reality. What a sickness around,  what a lie.

If I had to die tonight, there would not be things I wish to say. I said it all. I said it all to him, to them, to myself. If I had to die tonight,  there would be things I've always wished to do and I didn't, out of fear, out of despair. I never went to Asia, I never made a trip on my own. I have never been loved inconditionally, I have never made love to someone with a different skin colour. I have never drunk absentium. I have never seen the dawn on a beach. I have never swimmed naked. I have never made love in the water. I have never seen the ocean. I have never seen forests or jungles, I have never left Europe. I have never read books that should be read. I have never understood why I cannot be like the rest of the people. If I had to die tonight would people miss me? Would someone cry for more than a couple of days? Would he cry? And that other person there? And what about all my love? Will it be lost forever? Will it be given to someo...

I would cancel every appointment to see him. I am always there when he needs me even though he couldn't know. I dream of Christmas and New Year Eves with family and laughters with him. I would never ask him to stop doing whatever makes him feel good and whatever he is doing. I accept the way he lives, the way he takes decisions, I want to participate. I suffer as I used to suffer in silence whenever he suffered, even though he couldn't know that I know. I am triumphant whenever he is triumphant. I am proud of who he wants to be. I hover between heaven and hell, rebellion and submission, cold reason and destructive emotion. And then again, it is distortion, a distortion by the moon  that makes me see things as they will never be. But when death touches us so close,  when death unfairly breathes upon our necks you start thinking to people you will never see. And to those who left you. One way or the other, they left you. And you miss people, that are not dead. ...

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,  Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bonel,  Silence the pianos and with muffled drum  Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.  Let the aeroplanes circle, moaning overhead  Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'.  (W. H. Auden)   There is no good way to die. But when someone is 25, always cheerful, always lively and always in first line for cheering everyone up... When you spent days, evenings and nights together, just to live Bologna in all its splendour, when he was the one assuring me that the love I was feeling for someone was not in vain, was never wasted ... ...when he was the one trying to embrace me when I was freezing out of the disco after drinking too much. When he was the one laughing because of a silly joke he made provocatively. When he was one of those who made my Bologna better, because of the smart and the witty comments about anything at all. When he was p...

The following blogpost is inspired to a comment my good friend David left yesterday on the post * Joel and the Post-it: Part II *... I am so thankful for his words that I believe the best way to show my gratitude for his perfect understanding of Amie's despair is by publishing his comment although modified every now and then... **************** Amie, Amie, Amie.... Amie is such a stubborn girl. There was something she used to say to Joel , a piece of a song that he probably never really understood..." Love won't let you go once you've been possessed ".... That is something so difficult for her to understand and to accept... What she desired the most in life was a true love . One of those loves that you read about in fairy-tales and that make you feel that you can do anything with your life and be the strongest creature on the planet as much as being able to move mountains and train yourself to do more than the best you can ... And when she found i...

 ( following from yesterday's post * Joel and the Post-it: Part I * ) After walking for a while in the snow, Joel went back home again. All the thinking from a stupid Post-it application on Windows Vista. He felt sick again. Sick because Amie could not see how he felt about that all. The fact that she couldn't just accept that their love was not forever and move on enjoying life and simple pleasures as they are was driving him mad. He didn't know what else to do. Why was she so convinced that there was still something to sort out ? What was left to say? She was not the right one, albeit he had thought for real that she was. She had destroyed all his dreams about the two of them together, she had damaged him beyond repair and after all she was the one wanting to break up with him in the first place. All in the name of  her damn need to understand everything , to talk about everything , with that honesty that he was never able to put up with as she ...

Joel entered the small room, tired, cold, happy to be home. He would have given a look to the cars website and to the home page of the newspaper, as usual. He switched on the computer than gave a worried look to the clothes on the bed. Later. He watched his desktop, the post-it application of Window Vista was there empty. It had taken a while for Joel to delete Amie's last message from there months and months ago. She always used to type a message for him whenever she was there and before leaving his house. Amie. He could not let his mind wonder, not again, not about her. But last year in these days he was with her in her house and out in the streets in Italy to buy Christmas presents...No, Joel. Stop that. You don't miss her, you don't love her anymore, you love someone else and you are ok with that. Your life is just fine as it is. Ok. Just breathe. Joel knew he would never be fully happy, the only thing is that he didn't know why. Amie used to tell ...

 It is like pressing IGNORE on the window popping up on your desktop when the software suddenly shuts up. ERROR. We have various choices, usually they are IGNORE and SEND FEEDBACK on the failure. Sometimes, we also have RETRY , or HELP , or ABORT , or ABOUT , Or SKIP. SKIP is so useful, it allows you to procrastinate forever telling to yourself that you are not merely ignoring, but you are dealing with it when the time is right. We all tend to press IGNORE. ERROR. IGNORE. ERROR. IGNORE. ERROR. SKIP. As if, by ignoring or by skipping this time, our computer will be bound to deal with it on its own. As if the computer could do that. And by ignoring or skipping , we leave our computer infected with some problem we do not understand. We can pretend, by ignoring, that given that we don't see the problem, the problem is not there. After all, we all think, if the option IGNORE is there, it must be possible to IGNORE without great problems. And ...

"There's a gap in between There's a gap where we meet Where I end and you begin And I'm sorry for us..." Snowy London again, a stranger here, with me, within me. And I think of some blue eyes amazed by the snow at this point of the year, cuddling in bed as most people are surely doing, and her, not knowing how to treat those eyes, or you pointing feet to go out and play outside. Where I end, there's your beginning, I feel lost in the gap while London is covered in white  and stuck at home I am bound to remember, trying to avoid myself and deny myself as I feel trapped. It feels like suffocating today, where I end and the snow begins and I am buried in my own mind and heart trying to avoid memories and your beginning getting stronger while I grow weaker. Footprints of someone else in the snow where you begin , the road from you to her smoothly ending in that white bed, the road from me to you interrupted a while ago... and t...

"Let us play a game you and I, Let's us exchange our roles for a while. Let's pretend I was the happy one Let's pretend you were miserable without me. Let us pretend I was the one watching you crying for months for having lost me that way Let us pretend you were the incredulous one  for such a love that was not The Love . Let us imagine that I was with someone else already, happy to be in love that soon again, happy not to be with you , happy to have escaped you almost, happy not to be alone. Let us pretend that I was convinced that not being alone is, after all, the only thing that mattered when I met you, the only thing that kept us together, keeping each other company when we needed it the most. Let us pretend that you felt so bad for what you did to me that you couldn't sleep at night. Let me pretend that I couldn't give you any second chance you'd ask for. Let us pretend you came to me declaring all the love you felt on A3 benners and our ...

London Coliseum  - The Nutcracker - - The English National Ballet - 15 December 2010 Watching the show, in a cold London night, memories start to flow and get the best of me while I get home... memories of a past never really past ... ***************** Hurrying in the backstage , the ballet shoes too tight. Goosebumps when you take a peek from the curtain and you see the theatre getting crowded . You feel you don't remember the steps, you curse the day you agreed to do that, and you start to warm up , massaging the pointe shoes and the ankles and then approaching the barre. You have done that so many times that it feels just natural . A couple of battement tendu , two or three jété , some plie and releve. Will you get those fuette right? You never get them right. Then watching the little girls excited for the show, it is like a game for them, while they run in the backstage playing with their hair and the dresses. The scenes are ready , you won't be out until...

(* Let me be your Muse *- * Let me be your Light *) Make love to me as if you were a God and I was a Goddess. Tell me that I can control your body I can play with it I can touch it caress it stroke it kiss it as if it was the only thing that matters. Let me be your Woman your constant and only desire. Let me provoke you, let me teach you how to free yourself. Let me show you how the whole universe resides inside you. Let me release all that you never dared to be, Let me help you trying all there is you never dared to ask Let me explain that there is no shame Let me be the one awakening the dormant you Let me meet him through exploration Let me die on your skin, Let me taste your sweat and kiss away your shivers , Let me see your ecstasy, let me possess it. Let me savagely suck away your vital breathe Let me teach you how to die just to rise again, Let me lead you through the invisible path on my body, through my curves and my altars,...

"Though they go mad they shall be sane, Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again; Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion."   (Dylan Thomas)    Pleasure. Death. Rage. Tenderness. Intermingled. You can barely distinguish one from the other. You remember all of a sudden, in an endless night why you are struggling between the feeling to know someone like the back of your hand and the hurting feeling to not know him at all. That person who still holds the real you. Should you trust yourself? Should you just ignore it all? Contaminated after the end of a love where you poured your entire soul. Infected. Tainted. Polluted. Corrupted. Authenticity is lost. No caress, no smile, no run or walk or move nothing looks original anymore. No song, no whispering love words, no promises nothing sounds authentic anymore. Feeling dirty , as if a ray of black light crossed your whole body ...

Lucid eyes, almost disappearing into memory. A nightmare of words never said, yet there to be said. Squeezing the air into the palms of my hands, cause I cannot believe I won't hear that voice again, whispering to me, never again. Other eyes now squeezing his own, forcing him to a smile he cannot have, with a love which cannot be Love, because as arrogant as it may seem, that is not my Love, however sick it was, however badly expressed it was, it was my Love and no one else's love that he needed and I seem to be the only one who knows. And accepting the silence and the absence of those lucid eyes, is the cursing penalty he wanted me to pay, without even realizing, that is the only thing I can bear.

Amie had prepared everything. The strawberries , the chocolate , both under the bed ready to be taken out at the right moment. The red rose petals were there too. The book, T.S.Eliot, a present for him, was in the first drawer. Her perfect lingerie , tried already to see what effect it might have, was in the second drawer, perfectly ready itself to be worn. Candles and lighter were on the third drawer. The champagne was in the fridge, she still had to decide how to take it without being seen by him. The glasses were under the bed already.  She knew she was crazy, but she just wanted everything to be perfect. Joel was curious, it was the first night he spent with Amie, and weird enough, he was more curious and excited than nervous. Sure, he had needed a Red Bull, he was tired, but the day had been perfect, the Burlesque they had just seen had been inspiring, and Amie, well, Amie was just a dream come true , and she was doing all that for him, for him! They entere...

"Live now what others will only live in the future. What do you want? You can't want to be happy because that's too easy and too boring. You can't want only to love, because that's impossible. What do you want? You want to justify your life , to live it as intensely as possible. That is at once a trap and a source of ecstasy . Try to be alert to that danger, and experience the joy and the adventure of being that woman who is beyond the image reflected in the mirror." (Paulo Coelho, The Witch of Portobello )

Science 2.0  says: "...when a person falls in love, 12 areas of the brain work in tandem to release euphoria-inducing chemicals such as dopamine, oxytocin, adrenaline and vasopression. The love feeling also affects sophisticated cognitive functions, such as mental representation, metaphors and body image, which may explain why peoples' abilities and behaviors are all over the psychology map when they are in a new relationship." (Thanks David for the Pic!) Apparently, according to that article, the brain falls in love and tehn it reaches the heart through nervous terminations. So what about love at first sight then? The heart? The brain? Both? Well. I have fallen in love at first sight and it lasted less than one year. And yes it took me 1/5 of second for my heart to reach my brain or viceversa , but I remember I was really very lucid while seeing him at the airport  and realising ‘ Yes, I love him’ , lucid and dizzy a second after because of the intensity of thi...

And yesterday, someone made me think, in a comment to the very first post in this blog back in July when I started writing, *Millennium Bridge* , that the past should not be left behind , as everyone seems to believe, but instead placed beyond. Like something always present on your path, but unreacheble , untouchable , something you can always see and remember but that is not there with you anymore. Thinking about that, maybe this is what I am trying to do. Leaving the past behind does not seem right, it is like I am not giving it the importance it deserves , while placing it beyond is meaningful and it allows me not to mourn it anymore, eventually, but to praise it for what it was, good or bad as it might be. For someone like me, not afraid of getting hurt by the thorns of beautiful roses , For someone like me, not afraid of pain when the source of that pain is love . A new goal. Impossible as it is for me to strive and put the past behind, I need to see it...