Still I rise
These are heavy days, days filled with heavy thoughts, though my heart feels light. I wish I could say my mind was at ease too, but it isn’t. These are days of important appointments and invasive exams. Invasive, like certain thoughts. And yet, I’ve rediscovered friendship, the real kind, the kind that chooses to be…
When Do We Stop Dreaming?
I’m restless. More and more, I realise that each passing day brings a deeper sense of stress and anxiety. Eventually, I said out loud what’s been eating me up inside, ecause silence no longer helped. My body doesn’t represent me. My image doesn’t reflect who I am. And most importantly, my age doesn’t define me.…
This is wonderland
The sun hits my skin on this scorching day that feels more like summer than winter. A gentle breeze moves my palm tree, its leaves reflecting golden light. I close my eyes and let the air caress me. Meanwhile, the scent of jasmine comes to mind home, bottled in a perfume. To my right, on…
Bittersweet dreams
As a lifelong dreamer, I believed this time of recovery would be a chance to dive into a thousand things. But instead, I found myself forced to do what one is supposed to do during convalescence: rest. This has been deeply unsettling for me, because I need to be doing something. Yet, looking back through…
Why I always need to know?
The constant pursuit of perfection, of the glossy illusion that surrounds us and that is cleverly sold to us as reality wears us down. The endless comparison with the lives of others consumes us. Asking ourselves, “Why always me?” and envying something that is only seemingly perfect. I could sum up my life by saying…
Who do you remember to smile?
Still in bed. Yes, I’m restless. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be just… rest. Rest, rest, and more rest. Apparently, my body has a lot to recover but maybe my mind even more. I look around. My home is tidy, quiet. Extremely quiet. It’s incredible how silent life…
My golden palm, or beloved, whichever you prefer
Still convalescing… I poked my nose outside the door, away from all thoughts. I stepped onto the balcony, my aloes needed me, needed my words. This sky bewitches me. There’s something I can’t explain; the Australian sky is astonishing. I’ve always loved losing myself in a star-studded sky, in its infinity. I also lose myself…
Trapped between pain and wakefulness
I’m home, in bed. Trying to recover from surgery. What I’ve learned so far, a few days in, is that my insomnia is stronger than anesthesia, that oxycodone is overrated, and that there’s nothing more powerful than my mind. Forced rest, in bed. The tragedy of Alice. I don’t know what to do, or better,…
…on my way
…e poi ti incattivisci e odi tutto, odi tutti.Non tolleri i loro sguardi, il loro compatirti.Non tolleri le loro parole. Forse vorrebbero essere d’aiuto e invece risultano come lame affilante, in un corpo già di per se molto sofferente.Penso: facile dispensare consigli da vite perfette, senza mai un cazzo fuori posto dove gli imprevisti son…
Homeless Hopeless
Un mese senza casa. Domenica 27 febbraio – domenica 27 marzo. Un mese esatto. Sessa domenica, stesso numero. Mi manca tutto. Riconduco suoni, profumi, e sensazioni a ciò che ho perso. Mi mancano i miei fiori secchi e la cura che ho avuto per loro. Mi manca Il loro profumo. Profumo dì buono, dì casa.…