Every now and then everything gets grey.
Grey is one color like another and it too must find its space to exist!
There is a great silence, the lack of beautiful sensations. There is a great void: I feel the lack of affection, sharing and harmony with what is close to me.
Everything a little fades and I feel like a feeling of nausea that does not go away.
The colors seem to be lost along with people. Itโs hot and a little headache comes along.
It would be better to tell of a colorful, lively and happy emotion but it is time to feel pain. How the seasons change, even the mood and feelings of the days, are not all the same!
The pain perceived in difficult times enriches us although very difficult to live. Those who pass through suffering, those who try to touch peaks of deep solitude, those who lose their health and then have the chance to find it can understand more than others "the path of the heart" that still distinguishes us from machines.
The most interesting and human people I have encountered, perceived or even imagined, have passed through great suffering and have crossed them; from them have drawn value and possess that march in more than a fragile, beautiful human, capable of loving and accepting imperfections. They deserve not only to stop at the cover but to go further, in exploration of the content, that on which many no longer dwell.
The showy realities are the ones I see disappear, drift away or get lost more often; Perhaps the truest magic is in those who whisper through their own voice, they retain moments for themselves keeping empty spaces for important things and who turn their attention and love to you without looking at personal or other profits.
The image of that special figure I miss is perhaps an image of complexity that is painted in simplicity and in paths totally opposed by fame, notoriety and perhaps even by success.
The most elegant step is perhaps the fleece one that does not make too much noise but, with its magic, is able to do miracles.
My melancholy today is perhaps a bit like this: Look around me and see nothing. Iโve lost some focus on the fortunes that I have, on the magic that I am and, Iโm forgetting where to find a pleasant warmth inside me, where the resource of love never goes out!
So as the words take shape in this rash, the hand-to-hand fog seems to go away and I begin to glimpse a new day where the colors will return to paint this picture of life.
