"Here is my secret. It is very simple: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.."- Antoine de Saint Exupéry

Archive for December 28, 2012

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Black & White

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Bebe – Busco me / Search for myself

“Someday I will learn the reason why some things happen

I’m starting to learn how my heart walks
I rush, I jump into the emptiness
And after that I sit down and start searching for myself

And I search, I search for myself, I search and I can’t find myself
I search, I search and I can’t find myself
I search, I search and I can’t find myself
And I search, I search and I can’t find myself
And I search and search and search and I can’t find myself
And I search, I search and I can’t find myself

I search, I search and I can’t find myself
And I search and search for myself…
And I don’t stop searching and I walk in circles
And I think non stop
And I look at myself in the mirror, slowly
I analyse myself and again I get angry at myself
And I tell myself “Come on, woman!
There is a remedy for everything except death”
And I stand up feeling very confident
But then I break down in tears like a goth girl
Sometimes I think “I’m not having fun anymore”
And the next day there’s no sun that will put me to sleep
I start running searching for who knows what
Thinking that maybe it’s possible to get over this
Sometimes I think “I’m not having fun anymore”
And the next day there’s no sun that will put me to sleep
I start running searching for who knows what
Thinking that maybe it’s possible to get over this
And meanwhile I search, I search and I can’t find myself

I search, I search and I can’t find myself
And I search, I search and I can’t find myself
I search and search and search for myself…

And after my body stops crying
I will throw a little twig into the sea
So that it will become a boat for a shipwrecked sailor
And I will attach a beacon to it so that it won’t stumble
And now that I have reached the bottom of a pool
That didn’t have even a single drop of water
I will pick up my broken, little wings
And stick them back together piece by little piece
And I will fly
I’m like a roller coaster that goes up and down
That laughs and keeps quiet in confusion
I let myself be carried away
By whatever the days want to show to me
I’m like a roller coaster that goes up and down
That laughs and keeps quiet in confusion
I let myself be carried away
By whatever the days want to show to me

And I search, I search and I can’t find myself
And I search, I search and I can’t find myself
And I search, I search and I can’t find myself
And I search and search and search for myself…

Sometimes I think “I’m not having fun anymore”
And the next day there’s no sun that will put me to sleep
I start running searching for who knows what
Thinking that maybe it’s possible to get over this
And meanwhile I search, I search and I can’t find myself

And I search, I search and I can’t find myself
And I search and search and search
And search and search
And search and I can’t find myself
And I search, I search and I can’t find myself
And I search, I search, I search for myself
I search for myself, I search for myself…”


Smile of an Angel

The morning sunshine reflecting in the glass walls of the aquarium, water swirling while the pump made a low noise invading the room. Plastic plants in every corner of this water habitat, green plastic plants in bright colours fixed among brown stones. Tiny fish swimming around. A little fish in the colour of peach enjoyed being moved by the water around the pump. He swam slowly, than abandoned himself to the water, than swam again, than slided backwards. Two scalars with majestic shapes gently passed by watching us all with their big shy eyes… One was white with gray stripes, the other one completely gray.

As I quietly sat on my chair I recalled the feeling I had when I was reffered to the Jarvis Screening Center: one million questions blowing my mind , followed by an absolute silence. I closed my eyes, listened to my heartbeat, then decided to look around me.

Other women like me were waiting their turn to see the specialist. I could see all sorts of feelings on their faces. One , very young and nervous, holding her husband’s hand all the time. A second , with an arm in a plaster , helped by an older lady who talked to her in a low voice. A third one with a very sad tired face, black circles under the eyes, slowly drinking from her cup of coffee. The last one , old enough to be my grandmother, her daughter on the right, her son on the left moving around impatiently.

The receptionist welcomed every woman with a friendly peaceful smile on her face. She invited them to have a seat and looked for their details like a genuine proffesionist aware of the imense stress that each woman entering that room was experiencing.

The ladies made themselves a cup of tea or coffee, chose a magazine, read a nespaper, looked outside on the windows. There was a fantastic weight floating in the air, as each one of them waited for an answer that was very likely to change their life for good.

One by one they were called by several specialists, all underwent the same procedures, then came back, had a seat and waited for the result, a waiting time that was more difficult than before.

As  my turn finally came, an Iranian  doctor with goodness written all over her face greeted me with her calm voice, explained me every procedure, sent me also for all the tests I needed. All the staff, all women, behaved impecably. For a woman coming from an ex-communist country where doctors and nurses have no patience, no time and no empathy, meeting such people was absolutely amazing.

Each lady entered to see the specialist for a second time in order to discuss their diagnosis. Their familiy and friends were waiting in a genuine anguish, and as they come out one could see the feelings flowing on their faces: some returned sad and scared, some radiating and relieved.

I went to talk to the Iranian doctor again and I came out with a feeling unknown to me before. It’s not important what I’ve been told, I only know that whatever time we all have in our life should be used wisely. We live in fear, anger, worries, and we forget that we should make the best of every single day because life is short.

Stepping out of the centre my eyes met the eyes of the old lady. We spoke no word, but in that imense peace she showed me what real strength in this life means:

the quiet humble smile of an angel.

Smiling Old Lady

600 words

memyselfandela, 2012


Safri Duo – Samb Adagio


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Black & White

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NO TO DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

Dedicated to all women that live this damnation. And there are many women who have to stand a partner that abuses them.

To all those souls that have such a life and too often no force to defend themselves.

Bad

“You appeared on a cold night smelling of dirty tobacco and gin. The fear returned to me while I crossed my fingers against the door.

Your handsome boy face has been wasting time through your veins and your macho insecurity reflects every day in my tears.

Once more no, please I am tired and I can’t with my heart
Once more no, my love, please don’t shout, the children are sleeping

I am going to come back like a fire, I’m going to burn your fists of steel and from the purple of my cheeks will come the courage to cover my wounds.
Bad, bad, bad you are, you don’t hurt those who want it, no!
Stupid, stupid, stupid you are, don’t think you’re better than women

The day is grey when you are there and the sun comes out when you leave and the pain of my heart I have to swallow by the fireplace

My beautiful girl face has been aging in silence.
Each time you call me slut it makes your brain a bit smaller.

Once more no, please I am tired and I can’t with my heart
Once more no, my love, please don’t shout, the children are sleeping

I am going to come back like a fire, I’m going to burn your fists of steel and from the purple of my cheeks will come the courage to cover my wounds.

I am going to come back like a fire, I’m going to burn your fists of steel and from the purple of my cheeks will come the courage to cover my wounds.

Bad, bad, bad you are, bad you are because you want to be
Bad, bad, bad you are, don’t scream at me because it hurts
You are the devil and you are bad and don’t think you’re better than me or anyone.
And now I smoke a cigarette and I’ve blown the smoke into your little heart.
Because bad, bad, bad you are.
Bad, bad, bad you are yes!
Bad, bad, bad you are forever.
Bad, bad, bad you are.”

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memyselfandela, 2012