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You can do it ...

There was the smell of earth after rain.

That smell that does not forget, because you have it always in the rain when you do not get enough.

There were so many people squashed into a single bolus, shattered front door or attached one behind the other in a row unimaginable.

Yet, no one wanted to leave. Neither do I.

I wanted to see him and listen to see if that effect boomerang struck me every time I read his words and every time he's paid attention through the magic box, there was really.

Outside was a big screen, to give opportunities to those who, like me, could not enter.

But I was happy to be there, despite everything.

began to speak, and I realized that boomerang that effect was not only an illusion.

Sitting on a stool, with the red shirt and black jacket, he spoke ... entrandoti inside.

"A library protects words. And the words never die. So I wanted to return to the language with you in a library. "

My friend grimaced and even most people, eager to get into that little place where, however, there was no space for anyone.

Except for the dreams, of which he spoke.

The dreams of men, of which each is responsible.

Being responsible means not falling on your face because "time is all sucks, does not mean to say "Sometimes we think the others, I got to do that?" means doing their job well even if others do not, is to believe to be part of a world we can live without being enslaved, yes ... it means to be afraid, very afraid, said means every day, "but he makes me do?" yet continue to struggle, it means not to abuse the word love because it is too precious to watering down everywhere, is to believe in something or someone, because "grows only those who wanted to see" .

means being part man, not only be man.

Nobody wanted to stop clapping because that touch was not only a tribute or harping.

But thanks.

not only for all those words that saved my life, but especially for all the life that gives her skin every day.

way home I wondered how it would feel to have so many hopes and believes that in everything you do.

But above all, as one can feel so free to have a life and soul in the head, but so imprisoned in the body because the sheep become wolves.

The answer I found the last sentence that gives, to the applause and screams, borrowed from an American whose name everybody knows.

If you can dream it, you can.

And you're doing.

... Thanks Roberto.

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One year trainee: travel notes



"... in name of the power that the chancellor has given me the doctor declare in Developmental Psychology and Education. "
It was a sunny day in a dark November by about a year and a half ago.
E 'all began from there, from what appeared to be only a point of arrival and only when, with the maturity in his pocket (and head), at nineteen I came to this strange new city, and my ears are ringing a song that said it all that I was "born the edge of the city where trams do not run anything, where the air is popular, it is easier to hope that to face reality."
Instead, then, in that reality we have sunk eyes, because I wanted to have it all, piece by piece.
only way I could get to that "... declare the Doctor of Psychology who sang in one voice, not just my victory, but that of my parents and their sacrifices and that of my friends and their enthusiasm.
And from that day it all started.
What I learned from books, I know this show and spend it in places I had been assigned and that I had chosen.
three hundred and sixty days are not just to pass and all that is left in each evening, is secure in that fabulous mechanism everybody call memory, and will continue, in my every day, knocking on my life reminding me that I was.
My first time in a white coat, in a psychiatric clinic.
My first look at the patients and the fear of not being able to handle it.
in the pockets of paper with a quote from a friend "Fear is the howling of the demon, Fin is peace," I squeezed between the fingers all the times when I needed it: in the first interview with my first patient, my first test administered, my first response to the primary, the first draft of my resignation on the clinical diary.
But in that place I immediately felt at home, even when I was living in despair in the eyes of patients, bringing in as if it were mine.
In my indelible memories of those six months can feel the friendship of my colleagues, one of which has become a wonderful mother and another is building a future made for you, the friendliness and professionalism of all the other that will never stop to thank my mistakes in wanting to fill the silence and have learned to contain them, the alarm clock at 6:00 every morning, three buses to reach their destination between delays and coincidence, my first August in Florence, "his" smile, "his" sleep, "his" resignation, "his" eccentricity, "his" thanks doctor, "his" desire to speak, "his" desire to stay, "his" close to my hand, "his" death, to leave all my tears with a slice of cake in the dining room and a medical embrace divided by three to taste a pizza mingled with promise.
why there I immediately felt at home because home means everything, even in its failings.
There I found everything, everything that helped me to grow.
But the regulation was written "one-year post-graduate."
and there are another six months.
In another place. With other colleagues and superiors. In other lives.
a tortuous journey, where the urge to quit is almost always the queen who wanted to submit.
But my life has taught me not to give up that ticket and stained with ink from the pockets of the coat went sniffing piles of files of children who are struggling to find its place in the world.
My memory of the last six months starting in the middle of an investigation with the voice of my boss that my mother was there in front said " now my colleague will do her some questions" where including after I turned on every side and I noticed that there was no one to be me, "the colleague who had to do some questions. "
From that day on, I breathed the smell of the error and sometimes humiliation, when I realized that " in life no one ever gives you more. "
Feeling all wrong day teaches you to accept them, even if others do not.
Even from there I went out as I entered, but I did not shed even a tear, even if the memories are there.
and rest.
Like that coffee did not want to take, including those looks ever, that smile that I did not want to do, those bars of the prison and the clink of keys, those dusty files, quell'arroganza in jacket and shirt, that promise and that the Russian matryoshka.
exactly a year ago, I became a trainee psychologist.
Today I ceased to be, preparing to become a psychologist stop.
So thank you ...
the white coat, my colleagues and to all my patients to wake up at 6:00, the traffic, the August heat, the silence that I learned to hold, fear, exhaustion, humiliation, the I did not want to take coffee, to smile, I did not want to do, the Russian Matryoshka and inhuman life that I did in the past two months.
But above all, feelings and emotions, without which no one could do this work.
And someone I have known, perhaps, has forgotten.

"Faced with the suffering of the world can take a step back, you are allowed to do and it accords with your nature. But perhaps this was the step back 'unique suffering that could have been avoided "

Franz Kafka

Today is a new beginning.
do not know what will tomorrow, or where I'll be.
But I know that this is the story I tell, without taking a step back.
I've always known.
Thanks to those who know it already.

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... "I'm fine, WHY 'YOU DO NOT SEE ???"...

_MArì

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Reasons (mostly to Giuliani and others) to prepare for all

E' un capitolo che non avevo mai pensato di mettere nel blog, non qui perlomeno. Però mi rendo conto che è importante parlarne.
Quando ti ammali di tumore il coro è unanime: “Devi farti forza, devi combattere!”. Ti raccontano di amici cugini e conoscenti che avevano guarda caso proprio lo stesso problema e sono guariti e tornati come prima. Ti dicono che ti sono vicini e sono disponibili ad aiutarti: questo non lo dimenticare perché verrà il momento in cui davvero avrai bisogno di aiuto, e molte di queste persone sono sincere nel volertelo dare.
E tu, che ti sei ammalato, come ti senti?
Giuliana dice che è disperata. Per me il percorso è stato diverso, così come la storia delle nostre malattie: its aggressive from the start, my looked like a "normal" lymphoma. So I also know a little something from my studies, I was so worried. I knew that I was waiting for chemotherapy, but I also knew that the chances of recovery were excellent, I had a friend who had had Hodgkin's lymphoma two years earlier and was now healed and he also had a beautiful baby girl. The verb "fight" was not mine: it was expected that the treatment did their course and then I returned to my life. So much has been: with the fatigue of chemotherapy and radio, of course, but with the certainty that I was dealing with all the granite for a limited time to learn something, then go back to my life.

With the recurrence was different. Difficult to accept a new upheaval plans. And this time the recovery is not so obvious. Me too said they had to do chemo first and transplantation, if it had not worked, it would have gone to the transplant. The normal procedure is for degrees in medicine, and is also useful: it moves far beyond the time when you have nothing more to prove (a little joke 'cynical, but sometimes it is).

I made a new chemotherapy (high dose), I did the transplant did not work, I am a transplant. And this year was very much different from the first time that I became ill. When things get really serious, when fear is feel, the motives are important.
Here it is really "fight". Fighting to bring out a smile a day when do not you think there is nothing to laugh about. Struggling to want to continue treatment even when they do not any more, because you know they serve. Fighting, above all, in order not to close yourself but share what you feel who you are closer and helps you. It is not at all easy.
Also because the "fight" requires motivation, a goal, a goal that is not a simple cure. For a mother or father may be the children to see them grow I heal. For a young person some life plan: I want to marry that person, I want to do that job. But all can be summed up in the grounds before: I WANT TO LIVE. Those who resist even if you happen to be so bad as to forget everything else.

If a person with cancer is based, goes on. We do not know if we'll make it, but we try with all our strength, or almost. Then, as the time to think about usually have it, try to ask, but I want to live why? If you can, write, and go back to reread: sometimes the motivations change over time, but the important thing is that there are. We can help in difficult moments.

Sometimes there are moments of discouragement. It gives me very annoyed when someone sees me in a bad mood or a bit 'down and I says, "Come on, pull up, you get strength." First, I have every reason to be depressed or down. Second: I would like to see you in my place. Third: Most of the time with the right sympathy (compassion: to suffer with, someone shares with you the pain, which is nice) there is also the "annoyance" to see people who are depressed because of their illness. I was very impressed with a reflection that I once heard: Even on the cross Jesus cried out in pain and abandonment. Because we want to deny to those who suffer, those who feels going under the Law of the tears, the cry? Of course it is important to relieve all that we can, but I appeal to some non-ill (relative etc) read this blog: do not pretend that your sick relatives are always fighting, calm, brave ... even healthy people have their day "no." Accept them as they are, even if it is not easy.

Last note: I believe that almost all cancer centers also offer psychological support. If there is, use it. Even if you're one of those, like me, who have always trusted the psychology bit. Serve. To me it is served.

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particularly obnoxious, I do not know if you'll put it, but I think so, because otherwise we continue to hide behind a toothpick.
You die.
Note: I did not write that "in times of cancer you die. " It just dies. Everyone, sooner or later. But
cancer, especially if you're young, you slam in your face this truth with violence, and especially you do get there slowly, fear, often suffering. For this scares us so much.
When I was ill with Hodgkin's happy because "90% cured with chemotherapy alone." What do you do when you're part of 10%?
Often I hear that many would leave in a hurry, without realizing it, without knowing it. Has its advantages: you save a lot 'of fear and probably suffering.
Still makes me think that until a few years ago, the sudden death was considered a drama, almost a curse, because it prevented "Fix their own business" before you leave: leave the family free of debt if possible, resolve disputes not to leave "pending" to their heirs have their last wishes for those who are believers receive spiritual consolation to those who do not have is the beside their loved ones and be less lonely ... In these times when so much talk of "euthanasia" (with a lot of confusion ...), in my opinion for fear of losing life already in control of their life and death, I think it is important to recover these values.
It's a little 'sense of' being ready. " I have a lymphoma, are more motivated than ever to heal, but if that does not happen to know that I had a full life, and are happy to have lived. I will fight with all my strength to heal, knowing that even if I lose my fight with cancer I won the fight of my life, because my life had a meaning.

This requires both inner work, objectivity and sometimes the help of someone with whom we can talk about these things peacefully too. Such people are very difficult to find because these speeches are automatically think about his own death and does not want them to anyone. And the efforts of all those who love you and press on to heal first. However

: you are free or not to make us a little thought, especially since dall'Hodgkin, in fact, usually heals well. But it could still be a good opportunity to think about the deeper meaning of your life.
Think about '... and then come back to fight. Perhaps even more serene.

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A bit 'of reasons to hope and fight ...

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I'm still here? GOD AND WOMAN

and calm blue sea shining under the sun, a squirrel who climbs up the trunk of a tree and a wonderful song who played on the radio. The day has just begun the taste of poetry)

Sere

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Ten things worth living according to Allegra

1) Sit on the shore and watch him get angry with himself.

2) Look into the eyes of a child.

3) The mozzarella cheese, chocolate, strawberries.

4) Chatting with friends until late at night in my pajamas and do not notice the time passing.

5) Write (in secret ways) and read books, especially Italian and foreign fiction.

6) Say "mama" and know that someone responds.

7) to be called "love", especially after a long tiring day.

8) look out the Pincio terrace and watch the whole of Rome in a day of sun. And look out from the terrace of Piazzale Michelangelo in Florence and watch a starry night.

9) do their work like a mission.

10) God And love. Or vice versa. You name it.

Try it you too ... it is a good exercise to know each other better.

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Sere

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Thought of the evening ...

" I planted in my mind a rose garden and then I hid inside a hard rind.

Outside I put a sign stating: denied entry to the nasty. "

Giovanni Allevi

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E 'should perhaps be clarified.
I have two blogs.
This was the first born with the idea of \u200b\u200bliving and sharing my experiences with Hodgkin's disease. Much practical experience as you have seen and see.
E 'Long time no write, and not by accident. Because I think in a blog "personal" can be written basically for two reasons (and there may be many other, for charity, but the most important are two).
The first is because I seem to have something interesting to tell. What I think, what they live. Others find it is pretty interesting, it may be useful in some situations, but the blog is "my". Actually I came to this kind of blog on the second try, and if anyone wants to read is www.klalla75.blogspot.com. From the little I know about blogs in general is very "current": a post photos, thoughts, quotes, videos, etc. ... that interest at that time.

The second reason, in my opinion, to write a blog, you have something to say that it may be useful to others because you have had similar experiences. There are many blogs and travel stories of this kind. In this case, the things written are not "fresh". When I started this blog was meant to be like this, and perhaps will continue to predominantly be. After months of chemotherapy and a job that I thought I had not seen and understood everything, but much of Hodgkin's disease and I wanted to tell.

Christmas Tree "alternative" ...

Problem: I riammalata.
I wanted to write a blog on Hodgkin's lymphoma that was encouraging, telling about experiences from those who had already healed. For this there was a pause so long, in which I have not written.

I spoke with a psychologist and he confirmed that, at least among patients with Hodgkin's disease, self-help groups are difficult. Risks to find people "less sick" about you: what can they understand them? Or people who are not cured, and if it happens to me too? No no, not at all easy.

But last night I received this comment to a post:

"I have Hodgkin's disease and I did the cycle ABVD relapse after one month, I started another chemo BEACOOP the two months after relapse now I have to start radiation therapy, but I have already said that being aggressive can not exclude transplantation. I am desperate
Giuliana "

At this point I can no longer remain silent. Also will take up this blog with the continuity that I can, the serenity that I can. Always convinced that together we can win. And that the lymphoma is only a part of life, and we live for the rest.

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If a day off the fantasy ... Give away

Furlo was a gnome, lived in the forest Fantagrista, a land that is on the line where sky and sea meet. His family lived there for up to 100 generations, ever since Agrista, a hero who gave his name to the land, managed to conquer it. Furlo was that of a life of simple things, berries and mushrooms to eat, goblins at bay and to keep a decent job, what has always belonged to his family, was the tailor of the woods.
Furlo was famous throughout Fantagrista packs for its elegant and colorful, his shop was located just before the land of leeks Maturi, the old rivals that 100 generations before the valiant Agrista was defeated with cunning and magic. The workshop was Furlo right in the middle of a huge weeping willow, on every branch coming down, hung a myriad of colored fabrics that the worlds of Fate, his eternal collaborators, they had seen in the universes visited.
Furlo What was the biggest in Willow Fantagrista, in so much time had accumulated on its branches and thousands and thousands of tissue inside as many as 50 gnomes were working there, not to mention the dozens and dozens of Fate that entered and exited continuously. The biggest fear of Furlo, having found the old oak leaf on which Agrista had written his memoirs, was that his Willow, from too much weight had to endure over the years, suddenly broke, ending wrong to fall, with just the tip of a leaf, in the land of leeks Maturi.
Agrista's writings, despite the wear of time and the rains that occur every year Fantagrista in the winter months, they were still very clear: the terms with Agroporro gnome army chief General Mature of Leek, was that even if only a branch, a leaf, a button, a pin of the lands of Fantagrista had fallen across the border, the Leek Maturi would have taken everything that the ancestors of Furlo had so laboriously gained.

months passed and the name of Furlo became increasingly popular in those enchanted lands, orders grew and our gnome had no time even to look Crisilla her eyes, every day waiting for him in vain with dinner on the trunk.
Crisilla One day, tired of seeing her lover wither away under the hard work, he decided to andargli to bring dinner to the shop. Along the way he reasoned that he had never actually been on the Willow of her husband, and just as he tried to imagine we are under. Crisilla could not believe his eyes, an endless amount of colors, filled his eyes, unable to count, to quantify how much fabric pendesse from those branches, and began to walk across the face caressed by the emerald green silk hanging from the branches lower.
was so entranced by all that magic did not see any way that the Fairy was bearing down on him that at least 10 coats for Unicorn in my hands! With an incredible crash Crisilla found himself on the ground, his face completely covered with the cranberry juice that her husband's dinner, petrified, unable to help her to get up.
He remained motionless, his eyes wide and mouth open in a grimace of terror, completely enraptured by the glitter of the spoon, the clash was over there, across the border. In a few minutes
panic invaded the entire people of Willow and men in no time at all Fantagrista gathered with them. They were all still, waiting for no one knows what, perhaps a gesture of a word of one of those people, on the other side of the border, saw them grinning ...

TO BE CONTINUED

Sere

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Take me luck ...

a name. An adjective. A verb. An article. A pronoun, a comma, ellipsis, a feeling, an emotion, another adjective, a verb and yet another.
Then a point.

The sheet remains in half, consumed by the need to no end.
The words remain, but do not scroll.
They stop at the ink, as if a knot to prevent you from going over.
and complete the sheet.
're still in the palm of the hand and from there back to the head and heart to become once again a thought.
Solitaire and capricious, like a breath of wind on a sunny day.

And you get angry. Yells at me and I can dream if I can not do what you want.
But the paper has remained in the middle, you see?
Words can not invent, but you will seek and search, as you do with the lives of an earring lost on the road.
not enough for me any, I just want one that fits perfectly with what was given to me.
If I find I have lost.
happens. It happens to lose something to lose and lose.
You know that life is made of this too.
My time is not on your own time who knows eternity.
The sheet in half.
And you do not talk anymore.

There are letters that are hidden in the darkness of a drawer because the words chosen without peer at each other, as people do.
And you do not talk anymore.

want another name, another adjective, a verb, another article, another pronoun.
Another emotion and another.
But I do not want a single point.

You have guided my hand holding it, once again, and again, and I wonder if followed was not crazy.
I loved my dream just like a dream far and wide, inside and out, touching the edges and tearing the wrapper.
And you loved with me, you gave a direction that I can not lose.

Help me to wait and keep it alive, as is done with the flame of a candle when lit.
I need you, especially when others do not understand.

Answer.
And bring me luck.

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_mArì

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Relax?

I offer a warm and relaxing herbal tea?, By now you transmit to the frenetic world fades of the day. Obviously there are cookies, how could they?

Wait !!!!...... I put the soundtrack to this moment how about jokes with "Nevsky Prospect"?

De Andrè or poet that makes us dream with "Love Is Blind"??

"Hand in Hand with Rino ".... .....

Vinicio not .. Bastan words but "Everywhere Protect" the grace in your heart

and with that good night ....

_maRì

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Creattivi

Yesterday 'was a beautiful day, sunny and creativity.
Marika and I went to see Creattiva, proud of manual arts in Bergamo.
It was a fruitful visit as usually we are too busy working in other shows at the same time and we never buy materials from seeing true, but only the computer-mediated video and trusting in some reviews or shop online celebrities.
fact we had already thought of being able to visit Skillfully in Vicenza (where we go three times a year to other work commitments) but our boss has seen fit to divert to Rome in that we so patiently, so yesterday we were fortunate equally. The fair was
be interesting, we found some new material that has intrigued and a good selection of tools that were lacking in our study. When we left we looked like the Magi, with bags Small bags and boxes that ran on all sides.
I regret that I have found only one exhibitor stoffine colored with a different kind (materials that, instead, I found in large quantities in Paris) and very few, very few buttons. I came to know of other trade fairs abroad, especially in my loved London, so could I, in a not too distant future, take a trip there as well.
Only one thing I was really disappointed, finding that an exhibitor was selling a kit to create patterns (all in felt) the Doudou identical to those of LA SARDINE http://sardineshop.bigcartel.com/ (I do not think they had the authorization). I find this annoying and disrespectful plagiarism for those who spend time, energy and hopes to do new things, which could lead to a future that remunerativo.Credo own creativity as a word itself, there is all the freedom possible to make room for the imagination.
If everything is reduced to a mere economic issue, a gain speed, then is the death of dreams, a thick fog descends on everything.
I know that you disagree with me, we talked a lot with Alessia, with Elena Fiore and many others, and it really hurts me to see the creativity just lazy for money.
Happy Sunday to all creative!

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Alba very blurred from my bed of Molinette ... but in general the beginning and rebirth are always a bit 'confused ... Let us consider an experiment.

Now and forever: Good morning.

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Call again ...

"And the boat that flew in the sky
that children were still playing
I would have given the whole sea
vedermeli just to get there.
For the poet who can not sing
for the worker who no longer has his job
for those twenty years, and if they are to die
in a desert like a pigsty
and for all boys and girls
defending a book, a real book
so good to cry in the streets
because they are killing the thought.
To the bastard who is always sun
for the coward that hides the heart
for our memory thrown away
by these gentlemen of the pain.
Call still love
call always love
this cursed night
will even finish
because from here we will fill the
music and words.
Call still love
in this hopeless dream
between silence and thunder
defend humanity this
also remain a single man.
Call still love
call still love
always call me love.
Because the ideas are like butterflies
you can not take away the wings
because the ideas are like stars
not go out the storm
because ideas are rumors of mother
who thought they had lost
and are like the smile of God
in spit of this universe.
Keep writing life
between silence and thunder
defend humanity this
that is so true in every man.
Call still love
because we love. "
Roberto Vecchioni

Sometimes anger over Italy that not as we would like or for a world that is not as we would wish, is not enough.
It takes a lot more.
This is one of the most beautiful songs ever written, text and music.
I think that best represents everything we want and all we really need.
"Defending this humanity, but there is only one man."
The scorched earth of our reality is the other: a dying town day after day, values \u200b\u200bthat are stoned every day, young people who study and who find themselves begging for a job day after day , girls who disappear day after day, children who are used to correct the mistakes of Adult day after day, people who talk about everything on TV without knowing what he's talking about. Day after day.
know what's up?
I wish that tomorrow, when I am about to enter the Juvenile Court, told me that there is more need because their parents have ceased to make war and children and young people are educated in ' love and with love.
I wish that tomorrow, when we talk about anorexia and eating disorders of all, people knew well what they are talking about, without filling the mouth of doing good or prejudices, especially if you have a microphone in hand and is talking in front of millions of people.
I wish that tomorrow the real problems are addressed, without seeing a fight on the comfortable red armchairs, while outside there is an Italy that dies.
tomorrow I wish young people like me had this to build without a soul debt to pay for their training.
Italy tomorrow I would not be a democratic republic based on the recommendations, ranging from mild to more widespread.
Today if you're not a friend of this and that (but a friend like you should!) Must come home dead tired in the evening while you wonder what will happen you.
And in the meantime, your dream is just waiting to be put on the right track.
But still not the time.
I wish today was a present worth living ... "spit in this universe."
And perhaps there is, for those who wait ... and built like me. Why are we
"the smile of God" ... and "we love."

"Call me ... call me again love always love" ... yes I would also like this.

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to GjiUoIA MIA !!!!!! if someone steals a flower for you ...


I do not write because they do not cast are more 'capable
life gives you a model in his own image and likeness,
I waited a few days for you to fade ... what ???!!! So
it says "this thing here but I've never believed the mica" as Claudia would say ..
It never fades, it is not possible if you have any feelings.
Life takes and gives? No, life just gets!
Also known more equally and 'his claim when one day you ask him to wait a moment.
E 'GijuoiA then leaving all the words and the considerations that you have expressed violently and do a good job, and why it is so few, no one can grasp the meaning!
Why is there a way?
Maybe a 'expectations?
but what?
hear "please"?
hear "thank you"?
be told you're special?
hear you are strong, for you I do not know how I do it?
NO SAH!!
expectancy there is the illusion of depth in which we are born not to choke!
awareness that everyone thinks of his cock every time.
The awareness that there is awareness, but only one life, you live through joy and forth between a fleeting and too short, a nostalgia that is not filled, a sadness that makes you gape and shrug .
It means that we are simply living our lives Gjiuoia?
All rise ... after the climb a climb that takes you even greater still higher ...

.. in love with Sarah _Marì

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Thought of the evening ...

"To what end there, if I were all contained in myself?

If all else perished and he remained, I should still continue to be; and, if all else persisted and he was annihilated, the universe would be alien to me, I do not seem to be a part.

My love for Linton is like the foliage of the woods: time will transform I'm sure, as winter changes the trees.

But my love for Heathcliff resembles the hidden rocks and immutable source of little visible delight, but necessary.

I am he, he is always, always in my mind, not as a pleasure, as I'm not always a pleasure for me, but as my own being. "

Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights

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_marì

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life beyond appearances

Five, six, seven, eight.

began ever so a exercise.

counting, as if wrapped in music that time, asked to be tamed.

It made no difference, or a dictation of the teacher screamed in your mind.

You had to count, otherwise you lose time and musicality ... and succeeded disconnected.

Or rather, he could not.

So start over, even though you hurt all over.

Why stick your wooden pounding on the floor of the classroom teacher in the " five, six, seven, eight "which meant starting over.

The sound of two sticks on the shape and color different but so close in the request to continue, punctuate your strength and your resistance, especially when his knee was not tense or the instep was not perfectly arched toes.

remember like it was yesterday the light touch of the stick on my knee, willy-nilly , was tense.

And above all, the sound of creaking wood that bears witness to countless hours of hard work.

We often deal with ourselves, especially in those moments when we look in the mirror and they're not enough, and we feel the weight of the opinions or views that others do or have done on our behalf.

nearly ten years since I stopped dancing, but the rigid discipline that accompanied my body in all those years of my growth, has become a part of me.

classical dance is like a religion.

E 'rule, sacrifice, strength, discipline.

A discipline that, if it goes for twelve years, it is inevitable that you come in and be with you for the rest of your life, making you become inflexible with yourself in your daily life.

Try watching a dancer, when, with her tutu and her shoes, dance in a theater before an audience.

smiles.

not see the pain, there is no sacrifice, there is no rule, there is no inflexibility.

But before going on stage, the dancer is his bar in the classrooms of a school of dance, with the echo of the noise in his ears stick his rhythm the teacher "five, six, seven, eight a new beginning.

There you see the discipline that only a few are paid.

they understand.

On the stage of life, it happens more or less the same thing.

If a person shows in a certain way, everyone watching as it appears.

Like when you see a dancer on stage, dancing and smiles.

And you think you've discovered the essence.

If we make the effort to get out of the theater and find yourself in a dance school, made up of many large classrooms with huge mirrors that reveal everything and all betray, feel what it is the essence, even if the dancer is the same.

It takes an enormous effort to twirl the ends, the same effort, perhaps, that you have in dealing with the true essence of people.

Stop apparently means see.

Cross that appearance and grasp the deep meaning look.

not only in the eye, but the soul of a person.

Not everyone is as they appear: they need only to be discovered little by little.

Because life is not just the glitter and lights up a stage, but above all a time that demands to be lived and that only a few are allowed to live.

Who has the courage to peek into those huge rooms with huge mirrors and see what's inside.

Even if it means waiting a "five, six, seven, eight, before starting again.

Happy Birthday Bubbles

A Star

Hello, I'm Sol

I come in peace, I have 4.5 billion years, I eat
of hydrogen and helium to power my spirit of fire.
I do not need you land but you need me to live. Have you given
I heat, light, the Earth's resources, the colors, the view, joy, love.
I observed with interest when I eclipsed, with fear if hidden.
have a habit that surrounds you.
are in the air we breathe.
I have everything under control, the government portion of our Universe.
And today I come to shine, rasserenado _Marì
Scassa more than the ball so !!!!!


_marì

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Answers that matter

Sunday evening.
close the door of my hut, and turn on the light.
I throw the bag on the chair and I raise my jacket.
Then he sighed, wondering: I'll do everything?

Monday evening by train.
The carriage is almost empty.
front of me a woman in her fifties.
I study.
On the cover of my book it says: status exam preparation for the profession of psychologist.
him feel the gaze of the lady and I look up.
"But who does it do?" - ask me.
I'm going to answer, but I did not come the words.
And the train is coming to Florence.

Tuesday morning.
"Maid of Orleans, in a little 'you go but be prepared that the future will be hard! "
Thank you. Thank you so much for the encouragement.
But I fear that you understand your sensitivity and you eat enough.

Wednesday morning. I mean this morning.
A fourteen year old girl in tears. not stop.
Look at him. Then he looks at her.
Finally look at me and says: "last week you told me that I could be quiet, you see instead?"
I open and close my pen.
'You think like them? " - continues.
I try to say something to reassure her.
" too! You're like everyone else, as all of them, indeed are worse, you promised me that everything was fine! Bad!"
I feel like dying.
And I would cry with her, go and close, tell her it's for his own good.
But I have my place.

I get home and sigh looking at the window.
remember a time in my adolescence when I did not want to cut my hair.
Yet they needed it.
were too long and full of split ends.
I had to cut them.
after I had promised that they would become more beautiful. And strong, too.
But I do not believe it.
And in that moment, when the hairdresser began to scissor kick all my hair, hate it with my whole being.
I hated her, scissors, my hair, my whole life. At that time.
But then ... with time, I realized that that cut was really necessary.
My hair became thicker and more beautiful. And again ridivennero long.
Without that cut would have been ugly and damaged, like everything that is not renewed.
Sometimes we need to cut anything in our life and then, after some 'time, to see it become more beautiful and stronger, as after a new hair cut, even if that moment seems the most terrible living.


are not bad. They, above all, they are not.
One day you will understand.

"If I could stop one heart from breaking,

if ease the pain of a life or heal a penalty

or help you get knocked back into a robin's nest,

I shall not live in vain. "

Emily Dickinson

smile.
Lady, maybe now I can give you a response.

Shingles On Foot Go Blind

-Romantic Candle Romantic Candle Holder bag

snowing outside, looks like a step back in time, I again feel like Christmas and its decorations.
Here's why I let myself go in this mini project romantic, made of wool and warm light.

I would like to make a new series patterned knit always, let's see how many times I have to go back and undo the work ... heheeheeh.

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How to open your eyes ...

love you leave tell.

looks like a tear when we're touching the lives of others with his fingertips.

And when I speak I do not remember that I saw stars.

is made to a poem.

Silence in the distance.

note in music.

I remember in the past.

word in a letter.

All the talk about love.

With love and in love.

seeking the star which is not seen.

Someone finds it and he says.

There are those who can not find it and tells it.

Some people live and tell.

There are those who deny it and says.

In every time and everywhere man has told the love.

E 'remained a constant in the ever-changing history.

And it is a constant in the ever-changing life.

Where my thoughts often went to surprise your sleep.

Every day we love.

It 's like closing the door behind us after a long day and know that someone turns on the light for us.

Someone who tell us love.

A word, a caress, a kiss, a smile, a glance.

Beyond you, I'm looking for.

I've tried.

For love is always left to tell.

The secret lies in having the courage to do so without fear of getting lost at this junction.

On that junction which is between past and present.

hug one last time, which is a real eye opener.

point.

leads.

"Anna: Are you afraid?

Slim: Yes

Anna: Of me?

Slim: Yes, and no courage to be as beautiful as this fear. "

The first day of happiness, Errington De Luca

Popeyes Chicken Calender

BALANCE

We walk over hell watching
flowers .... HAIKU


_MARì

I Wear My Aunt's Girdles

along the track of the memory size does not

_maRì