Often we run, we're stuck in traffic, stress and how to say a poem is immersed in the noisy confusion of life .... It will be trivial, but a sincere silence is worth a thousand words. The best way to learn to listen to others and know how to shut up but also be able to hear themselves. Even before themselves around us. I listen to my sea, the sounds of ships, the light of the world around me. But nature does not always produce sounds sweet and subdued, sometimes deafening. The noise of the city is definitely nevrotizzante. But the silence is not tolerated by our brain ... these certain things can not exist in nature, Our body makes noises .. and the only one at this moment I can hear is the sound of the heart. If you have nothing better than silence, hush! A phrase that means everything! Why talk when you do not have anything to say? Sometimes it is worth much more than a glance, a gesture than a thousand words ... Why do hover in nonsense words, in times when everything you need to do is just shut up and listen ... Listen to what your heart tells you, tells you what to listen to the wind, listen to what you said to the sea ... and if you do not hear anything, try to listen to what your heart tells of those around you ... Only special people know how to listen to your silence is there any recognition ... but there are times, in cui ritengo che il silenzio sia assolutamente necessario, che qualsiasi parola in più sia inutile, per chi la sente e soprattutto per chi la dice... Dei momenti, in cui tutto il resto passa in secondo piano e hai bisogno di sentire solo quello che hai dentro di te o quello che hai intorno a te... Può anche essere una forma di egoismo il silenzio, quando io dico ho bisogno di silenzio, quando tutte le parole mi sembrano inutili, magari qualcun altro, in quel momento, non ne ha bisogno...Però a volte nella vita bisogna anche essere un po' egoisti, è nell'ordine delle cose... 
Ho gli occhi arrossati dalle lacrime e un nodo alla gola che non vuole scendere.
Come è difficile dovere mandar giù certi atteggiamenti e certe affermazioni solo perchè si vuole bene a qualcuno. Ho sempre cercato di abbandonare la mia gelosia, la mia possessività nei confronti delle persone che amo solo per non vederle soffrire e solo per non metterle in situazioni di scelta. Come posso chiedere a mio padre di scegliere tra me e la moglie? Ho 33 anni e certi tipi di situazioni le ho sempre messe da parte. Mi dico in continuazione che sono grande per avere questi sentimenti. Ma ci sono giorni che proprio non riesco to swallow.
And today is just one of them.
I've behaved badly, and I was not there ntipatica it presumptuous.
I just do not ask permission to see my father ...
Life is made up of many small daily struggles, duties to which we must obey and leave the impression of missing time .
My mind is a wanderer.
stay still I worry and salt for every place I visit my mind travels from those that will never see. This morning I woke up with the wind that knocked on the window ... traveled roads invisible wind up down in the park Aniene. I stayed there for a while to take the essence, until you feel overflowing heart. I'm not a person off, anything, but my efforts in this life seem similar to that crazy, I always told my grandmother, who tried to dry up the river drinking ... it's like there was always someone with a lot more thirsty than I . And I'm wasting my chances, I feel lost on paths unknown and anxiety for those who have undertaken. In theory, life should be as simple as breathing, but when we breathe, we do not think when to inhale and exhale air, and then, perhaps, but say just maybe, should think less and live longer.
E 'with indescribable sweetness that should accommodate those moments when you dedicate yourself, you are discarding the clothes to work, they sit on the table the important thoughts, concerns, and turns the mind to all those things that are real reason why we live. Why is it so, we endure pain and bitterness, difficult situations and colleagues is not heavy because we have to, but simply because we know there is something else: but there is a prize that awaits us? studies and work I have always been confined to construction sites and offices, meeting rooms and debris, but if I can when I can escape. Who cares if my trips are short-term goals or my neighbors. No matter if in this period of my life journey alone. Traveling is satisfied my desire to see, speak, learn and find new places to remember and imagine in those moments when I longed so much behind that desk, and so little used. And then there are the books. Certain periods of my life I can only say that the books have saved me, I do not know who or what, but I'm sure they did. As far as I know, some people consider me a little expansive, I absolutely needs of others. not those "other" indistinct and mass forming the background against which inevitably spend long days, months and years. The "other" I try, I miss, which I feel the need to share a thought, I love to meet, those who embrace those of seeking physical contact, those with which it is enough just to stay together in silence to give me peace, give me happiness, few people with whom I feel I have shared a little 'blood. These are the people who made my world brighter. They are also the people who today, for one reason or another, there are no more physically walk regularly ... but in my heart ... memories are just memories that if I lean on me for a moment the emotions overlap. And I remember the emotions are no longer what I felt then, remembering the emotions even buy a new light and dimension fantastic ... In recent months I have been told many times, perhaps as a rebuke, that is a cool person, and I firmly refused, because I feel the blood boiling just beneath my skin, but I wonder if they are right.
What you feel inside should be evident even out ... or not?
Una sconfitta.
Ho in bocca il sapore amaro dell’illusione. Forse è più la consapevolezza della disillusione. O anche la l’illusione di una riuscita fallita, o di una emancipazione mai avvenuta, e ancora l'illusione di un benessere insano. O forse è solo disillusione.
Disillusione
Parole mai dette e sensi di colpa pesanti che ti pendono sulla testa, per poi sentirli un giorno si e un giorno no. Ho represso il dolore, provocando altro dolore soffro piango taccio e mi arrendo. Ma resto concreta e disillusa, conscia che qualsivoglia sprazzo di desiderio è destinato a infrangersi contro un muro di basalto, ottusamente, ciclicamente, cinicamente ostinata, con sdegno, con impeto.
Come onde contro una scogliera.
Sono disillusa e concreta quando sistemo i 50 cent nella taschina dei miei jeans. Sono ferma e distaccata. Illusa, inequivocabilmente chiara e distinta, mentre l'odore di fiamme impazzite mi penetra nelle narici. La senti? la constant D, the Final Demolition of my vow of Disillusionment. D as destiny. D as a red dragon. D as a dynamic ... Disaster, Loss, Women, Duel, Damn, Durability, Damage, but basically .... Desire.
The duel is just beginning, and has already done enough damage. Leaving the field against the Red Dragon not have escape routes. E 'struggle continues ... clings to you and intoxicate you with its intermittent flames. Squinting, Donna, you're just another piece of living cells ... the answer is unknown ... but maybe it's just a game.
deluded "and suddenly everything went dark, the shadows stretched until it was lost in the night when the The old boy took her hand and asked "God weeps like us?". Meanwhile, the first drops began to fall, the smell of rain, making breathing rose, while the old man clutching his coat said, "God weeps often, I believe, only that we can not know. this is like rain, you know it when you get wet. "
The man is like the rain, we see the other only when we meet, when we collide with them. Just like the rain we quotas, accessories accidental. We will spend as long as rain rain and more rain will not wash away everything. Would you like to move but you know that if you move everything, though it goes, another will be different and you find yourself watching the rain fall, more drops will mark your face and you know that more rain will fall, but "can not rain forever."
or not?
you imagined as a young cedar of Lebanon. A young tree, was a gift from the generous hands and planted in the earth. In the most friendly and enlightened of my land. I would have expected to see your take thick bark, your leaves changing to dark green and stretch, your slender figure upwards. I saw your wonderful open umbrella take your leaves and spectacular, reassuring form. I expected, it . With trepidation, carefully, with tender devotion, I would have expected. No hurry without cursing never a single day, including the ones you have grown a little more slowly than expected. I was careful to keep away the annoying animals, those that dig holes, those that threaten the torso. I spared nothing that had defied your presence. I would have found that every drop of your sap had flowed freely from the heart of the earth to the top of your sensitive leaves. I prayed, because it had rained enough. Enough . I wanted to change only in your glory.
Quel tuo sostare li, nella mia Terra.
Ombra che mi salva e nulla più...
