Like This

There is a special moment,
when i do miss You.
It is when i stop doing something
working,
writing,
playing the piano,
talking to someone,
working on a project
creating
doing something.

It is as if you were there,
beyond the temporary focus
of my concentration.
Every time this shift happens
i turn around,
i look for you
to tell you about me
to know about you
to feel you near
to give you nearness
to share my life
to gift you my day
to greet Yours.

More and more
You are the start of my any wish
my shelter
the daily medicine
I do ingest
to heal the mind vibrations
and sometimes
To heal my solitary soul

3

Dem0n1us

Another night. Once again she moved to her bedroom to try getting some sleep, once again with no success. Twisting and turning at some point in the middle of the night she moved to the kitchen, surrendering to the fact that sleep would have not come visit her, or maybe it did, in microsleeps intertwined with tears, and all sort of thoughts.

She found him there, in the darkness of the living room, after leaving the kitchen. She didn’t know if she was dreaming or not, if she was awake or not, if he existed or not, but she found him there. He was standing there. She could not discern his figure, his look, his shape. Did he possess a shape at all ?

Ciao. – He said –

Who are You? How did You get in?

She did not feel like being in physical danger, it was too surreal for that. She wanted to know who he was, why. She was not so important, or precious, or rich, or hiding anything special. Nor she felt like being such an interesting sexual prey. So who was he?

Michelle Michelle, I have always been around you, in your mind, I did get in you long ago. We get into someone through shocks, feelings, fears. We do get inside in the most different ways.

Who are You? What do you want from me?

Michelle, Kitty Michelle. People call us in mamy ways, the most common one they use for me is “DemOn1us”. Do you know what is a demon?. You all think it is a relgious thing. Religion stole also this from you humans. Religion wants to claim that right too. Do You know what a demon is?.

I guess so. Something ugly I dont want. Someone I want to kick out of my room right away. I got enough things going on already.

It’s not really like that, but there is some truth in it. You humans sometimes get the truth of things without even knowing.
You know what is a daemon in a computer operating system?
You humans developed that programming thing. You humans developed computers, then developed that thing, the “operating system” to take care of the basic tasks, and then, when doing so, you “invented …” (laugh) a little subset of programs that you called “daemons”. They work in every of your computers, they are little independent programs, that lives their own life. You know nothing about them. They are transparent to anything else your computer do, but they exist, they do little things, they triggers actions, etc.
You can think about me like that, it will help you understand better what I am, what a demon is. I am a demon, Your main demon.

Fuck you. You do not exist. You are just a bad dream, I’m dreaming about you.

Dem0n1us. Dem – 0, 1, Us.
I don’t care whether you think I am a dream or not. You are screwed up. Your nights are “me”. You know that isn’t it?
November 27, April 17, January 2.
There are things that will forever vist you. Each of you humans have them. When You have inside that void, once it has visited you, it can’t be removed forever. Once You have seen death … You know why you didnt do it? It was me, that day you didn’t do it because you accepted that you will carry the damnation of living, for not having your parents suffering. April 17: your heart. That time you fought, you were angry and you did not accept being sick. January 2, 16 y old, the party, you in that room: your persona being destroyed and brainwashed into being nothing, spirtitually nothing, sexually wrong, a weight for your family. Stripped of all that. It wasn’t good feelings keeping you here. It was the little daemons.

I will always be with you. Some nights you will vomit, others you will pray, you know that since then we will always be with you. All those days, everyone has them. Some are luckier than others. Sometimes You will feel like you can feel more, because you are somehow not mental.
Maybe you are a little mental though.
You write.
You must be mental, isnt it?
I know you think like this, I am you, in you, so I know it.
You write, so you must be mental isn’t it?
dont you think it?
You dont do drugs though. I still dont know why, it’d be easier.
Praying ?
You think it will help?
You beliebe in rationalising, does it help?
What when rationalising fails?
When it happens I dance and laugh, inside your head, You crack nuts.

Fuck You, I know you, fuck you.

You are crying, it’s fun to be in your mind. To make you write all this.
Wanna shout it?
Did your father know?
What did he tell you before dieing? January isnt it?
When he coudl not speak anymore and he was looking into your eyes.
When he was not able to speak, and you thought it was time to speak of so many of those little things you see so important.
What about love? Can you love?
And Your accident ? November isnt it ?
How was it when she looked at you after the coma after the accident?
Are You crying Michele?
How is it ? Should I go on ?
Should we speak about April ?
Tomorrow ?
Tomorrow night?
Again?
Should I return?

7

♡ 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕎𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 ♡

“Strong women do this, strong women do that, a strong woman don’t, a strong woman do …”.

All over the places we are told how a strong woman is the one who doesn’t beg, doesn’t ask, doesn’t stay where she’s not explicitly wanted and requested to please be. Or other things like this and that.

We are told how a strong woman should pretend to be this or that, how she should turn her shoulders in case this is not happening. Oh, no, I do not literally agree to that. It leaves out so much. A strong woman is simply herself, that is the truth.
A strong woman is the one who doesn’t care about being a strong woman, THAT is the truth. A strong person is the one who is herself, that is being strong, that is respecting ourselves and the others.

I am strong when I beg and I am silent, as much as when I demand to be listened. Not one bit less.

Am I not strong when I stay somewhere, even knowing that me giving my time and dedication is not requested and eventually will get to nowhere if not into a gift that may be used or not?

Isn’t that a true sign of how strong and self confident I am?
Isn’t a woman strong when she allows herself to hope for the impossible When she believes in dreams and pursue them, with focus and dedication?
Isn’t she the strongest being when that will make her fall and then she rises again to dream again and again?

How is it that society has pushed us to be slaves to a completely utilitarian way of thinking?
How is it that more and more it is “do ut des” and aligning to a way of thinking and behaving that determines and create a categorisation between who is “strong” and who is “weak”.
To drive people into seeing as stronger the one who “takes” as compared to the one who “gives” is wrong. And how is it that we allow these cages and false boundaries to decide what we are worth to achieve?

Such way of thinking is blind, superficial, it leaves out the core of of self affirmation, it does not recognise the strength of hearts in its entirety, cutting out half of it.

Take this writing, for example. Maybe this has no meaning to exist, maybe it will be read by none, or legions, so what? It can be considered small shitty collection of thoughts by a little woman, “weak maybe” because it has no reason to exist and will lead to nothing.

Well, the fact is: I am ME, and I do it anyway and the fact that maybe a part of me even hopes that someone smiles and feel motivated thinking alike makes me feel ok, it makes me feel everything but not a weakie. Take this writing, I write it because I feel like writing it, because I believe in these things, and if no one ever read it but it still stays written, well, that is one more reason why I am strong, or why I am “me”, while being a simple “dreamergirl” at the same time.

Strong women are the ones that stay, IF they WANT, till they want, and then go. They might stay till they get close to breaking, if they want, or till they feel it is enough, or not a minute. They can stay and then maybe regret they stayed too long, but proud they did their best.

Strong women don’t beg? Wrong.
They beg too, IF they WISH, if they find it worth.
They do it because they are strong, and their begging is a gift. Strong woman are the ones who are themselves, full stop.
Dominant, submissive, begging, staying, going, whatever. They are any way they want and feel. Respectfully, with awareness, and heart. Most of all, strong women do not give a damn about being categorised as strong women.

I Stay, I beg, I speak, I write, I affirm, I make mistakes, I face them, I don’t escape, I smile, I kneel, I love, I laugh, and more.

More than anything else, I am me.

3

Wholeness

She stood there. It was one of those moment of blessed loneliness.
A light from above, behind her, projected her shadow in front of her, on the ground. In the silence of the evening, she stopped, facing that challening silhouette. It was the dark image of her, right in front of her, confronting her.

“Without shadow there’s no light”.
“We always are tempted to think the other way round, of darkness as a negation of light, but the truth is: it works both ways”
That was her first thought.

“Maybe without darkness there is also no love”.
She stood there, looking downwards at the dark her.

“How much of me does she holds?”
Then, looking closer, she realised something else. Dark and luminous shared the same origin. Dark melted with shiny. At the very root, she was connected to her dark image.

“I am both. Without you, I’d be lost”
“Wherever I go, I bring You with me”

0

The Meaning

The guy sitting next to her, by sea asked
“How much do You care for me ?”

In love, thoughtful, she smiled, played with her hair and looking at him she finally answered

“I … I don’t know, but … but I feel like I am a child when with You, we play and time has no meaning, like we are each other’s forever game”.

Answering like this out of her soul, looking at the water, without really thinking too much, letting her heart speak.

He was surprised, feeling almost offended by the words, and said:
“So is this how much you care for me ? “

An old man sitting nearby smiled and giggled.
The boy turned to him and in a loud voice”

“And You – why do you laugh ? You are an experienced man, do you think this what love is supposed to be ? How a woman is supposed to love?”

Saying it loud almost wanting to make her feel ashamed

The man looked at him, bold and angry, then turned his face to her, and then he thus spoke:

“Oh, you. Have you ever tried to take away a game from a playing child?
My Dear friend have you ever tried to detach someone from his entire world ?
A child that plays is not playing with the game her soul IS the game, it becomes her entire world; there is no inside, no outside, no thoughts about breathing, eating, about being tired or sleepy, this is how important it is.”

“Are you sure You don’t want something so pure, are You sure you can be worth her? Are you sure she can be as much as you are for her, of her being THAT much for you ?”

The man was not even finished speaking before the boy started having tears in his eyes, such a fool he was.

0

I Will

I will turn You into the blue of Oceans and Seas,
filled with light from Suns, Moon and Stars.

I will then turn myself into the sky vault,
smiling at the little lights,
the way you want.

Up in there You will always find me,
watching at You,
waiting for You.

0

A Lamp, A Pillar, An Evening

The evening is mild, yet cold
a man, under the street light,
whistles at the sound of a tune
it is an old song,
a tune that seems to come
from a distant time.

We do not even know why, but we stop,
our every thought slowly fades,
the ones we thought we couldn’t delay
the ones that seemed so important.

We stop,
we do pretend we are waiting for someone,
we smile at ourselves, so silly, but we stop.
Not a word, we do smile, stare, and listen.
We stand there and we watch the man:
a silhouette, his whistling,
it flies us in a distant world.

Breathing, inhaling, we feel small
there is a tear wanting to wet our eyes.
We do feel small, very small
small like those tears, reflecting the city lights.
We do feel that small
and it makes us feel like giants.

His music fades,
a girl approaches the man.
The young man stops whistling,
he stops singing, he smiles.

He takes her hand,
not a word,
but a smile and a kiss.
Like voyeurs we see them,
walking away, together.

We stay there, for a little while,
no words are needed.
We watch the pillar
the place where the man was.

We take our hands to each other’s eyes
and we caress the surfaced tears.

A smile, arise on both you and me
it draws on you like fresh brushes of life

We take each others tear on each others lips,
And we know the evening will be perfect.

0

In Hard Times

In hard times we learn. There are things we can learn.
In hard times comes out the best and worst, it pops out.
In hard times we must do what’s best what will bring us to better times. There’s no other way. It is the easiest of the lessons, the most logic.

We should do what makes us grow, not what stops it. We should pursue what makes us stronger, more than ever we should.
We should not indulge in what will not allow growing paralysed by apparent needs, that prevents us to reach for more.

In hard times I ask myself.
Am I doing what leads to growth ?
Is there something I should sacrifice?
Is there Something I can do better, something I should give up, to achieve greater goodness?
If I want things to go on and to be better, if that is my goal, if in the end I know that the reward will be something greater, then I should do all it needs. Giving up what needs to be released and hold more to what’s needed to achieve that.

This is true at all levels.
That is true about giving up little freedoms like a run, and finding a different solution, in the time of the pendemic.
This is true about something left something unsaid, and we can do that call, or apologize, because it was a nonsense.
This is true at work, where we can leave someone else take our merit, because it will lead nowhere, and that way we can complete a project.
This is true in the public and in the deepest private.
If we believe into something bigger being possible, then we should.

If we truly believe there is greatness, then we should.
The world is beautiful and each of us can contribute.

Hard times teaches this
(but yes, FUCK hard times we are soulful humans, we can smile ).

0

Writers and the sands of time.

There are Writers that do speak to us, or spoke to us.

Sometimes, through the sands of time they seems to speak to us. The voice of some author that independently from us wrote “our same words,” walked our paths, experienced our same heartfelt feelings. Maybe it is fate driving us to those pages, books, notes. Sometimes I am so crazy as to think it might as well been the reverse, maybe it was us speaking to them and asking them to express what we had inside, even when they did it back in time.
Does it matter who did it?
To me, such mind connections defies time, the question about who came first has no sense, it is something that goes behind that type of logic. It is a connection underlying something universal. It is the greatness of life, love, humanity.

Life is amazing.

0

My Way

First there is the seed, then the plant, then the bud. All of this exists but the real flower hasn’t blossomed yet.
What is there is young, it is “promises”, it is strong, it is full of life, it is “potential“. immense potential. Yet, even though all of this is existing, the flower is not part of this world yet.
It is an ember, it is insecure, it has to struggle, it has to break the soil, it has still to come out, leaf by leaf, bit by bit, breath by breath, struggle by struggle, joy by joy. Those are the seasons when time moves slowly, and still, every second is an explosion and the await for the next ray of light, every instant is a surprise and new steps, toward a fate that is there and the flower itself does not know.
The seed is there, awaiting, for days, for weeks, for months, for years. All the Time in the World existed before, for that to happen, since forever. Then the day/s come/s. The perfect water, the perfect sun, the perfect time. So growth starts.
Growth begins, then stops, then goes on. There are storms, there are springs, there are winters, but nature can’t be stopped and growth continues.
After the doors are opened, after nature said “yes” to the growth, everything changes, it is a new era, it is new rules, the universe is not the same. Darkness, before, was not pain, it was another regular day. Grey, before, was not ‘lack of air’ it was sleep, it was limbo, it was just another regular day. The universe is not the same now, the rules of nature have changed. The reward for this is immense, the reward for this is called life, it is called joy, happiness, completeness, balance of the Whole, the reward for this is called “love”. It is harmony not just for this flower but also for all the world around this new creature.
THIS is my love. THIS is LOVING, for me
This is how I am, how I was born to be, how I was born to love, to live it, and there is nothing I can do about it, this is my way.
Once the doors are open I cannot love drop by drop.
No, I am not cautious, I am not slow, I can’t live it in small bites. I cannot. My free time gets me there, my mind works faster, my body senses more, my concentration is higher, my focus is total on what I do, and I do have a purpose. It is not an “obsession” rather, yes, a purpose, a place where I belong, where I go and feel at home. It is my natural place when I am not ok, my natural place to solve the problems, my natural place get new challenges, my natural place for smiles and it is joy I wish to share with anyone around me. Yes I it is as if I myself need to chant it, to seed what I am experiencing or my dreams. I sprout life, I am an happy flower.

It is my natural place and my poor limited and blowing mind can’t possibly think that it could be different for the one I love. The rules of my universe are different. A day of darkness now is not another day, it is pitch black, and it needs corrected, illuminated. Distraction is disrespect, turning head is asphyxia, thoughts not belonging to this universe is something simply unconceivable, distrust is deep wounds leaving eventually scars, if not haemorrhage. What before was acceptable now can be pain, some of he things that before where were just a smile now can be source of immense joy. The universe is just different, because now there is this extra universe, with its own rules, and it is for better.
The reward is the bliss, because now a smile can lighten like one million suns, a word can fuel the heart for days, an instant can accompany you in your every moment, and give you the strength you never thought you had.

The touch of Her kiss is the fertilizer for your happiness, the simple awareness that she thinks about you is your nuclear battery, and YOUR thinking about Her is a fluid of energy that can reach her wherever she is, whatever she does, and feed both. You have this awareness that it is like this, you know it is like this, and every single smile you share, reinforces it. Lovemaking is “Church”, it is elevation, it is delicious sins, and laughs and more happiness, and everyone close to you will get some light too, and positive vibes.
This is how I am, this is how I love. I could be even more daring than that, and saying that it extends on everything in my life that is deeply important for me, although for “love” it just is “more.
This is how I am, I cannot love drop by drop, I cannot trust in half, I cannot love with half-trust and with anything more than the absolute.
So:

“Please life,
allow me to burn,
beautifully.
Please life,
allow me to feel it all,
never spare me a thing”.

This is my way.

0

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