Just Maybe Forse Ciao

Too many sweets get gross after a bit. You can't stand them and you vomit and feel sick and swear to God you will never have sweets again. Too much sweetness causes nausea.  But then it happens that you eat something really really salty, too salty and in the end you find only one sweet and that sweet is the most marvelous thing in the whole world. Because all you had tasted was salty.  That one sweet is as sweet as the others you swore never to eat again, but for some reason makes you feel in heaven while all those others gave you sickness.  It is just the contrast that makes you feel the sweetness even sweeter and pleasurable than it is, while all those sweets together can only give you an intoxication. Balance has never been my thing, and I have always felt the sweet sweeter because of too much salt, too much rough tastes. For 5 bad things I have endured and tolerated, 1 good thing made me feel like a Princess.  I am intoxicate...

My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods. Time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees — my love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath — a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff — he's always, always in my mind — not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself — but as my own being — so, don't talk of our separation again — it is impracticable. It's not destiny, it's chance, I was not meant to find you but I did find you. It's primitive, as primitive could be the trascendent communications of our souls, with no rationale, no space and time, no issues on how and when we should feel it. I am alone in this, always been. I have invented all of it and now I am paying the consequences. A wake up call to life after having been ungrounded from reality for too long. Your absence, your distance, they never turned me off until now, when I start see the ground and miss it for th...

A primitive gesture, a smile saying: and the fairies? Five teardrops rolling to their destination. My black sheets. And everyone's 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 you you...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, please you at least, just do it....