VladT

Once again...welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring.

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Amo i lupi solitari perchè quelli in branco sono un pò come le pecore

I love solitary wolves because those in pack are a bit like sheep

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L’amore.

Come lo spieghi l’amore a chi non lo ha mai incontrato? Queste persone le riconosci subito perché l’amore ce l’hanno sempre sulla punta della lingua e la facilità con cui cambiano l’oggetto del loro presunto amore è la stessa con cui si cambiano le mutande. 

Il batticuore, il dolore allo sterno, il bisogno di sentire, di avere, di possedere, il pensiero che ti ossessiona… non sono loro l’amore. È bello l’innamoramento, ma non è l’amore, così come un quadro che rappresenta il mare non è e non sarà mai il mare perché puoi restare a guardarlo per ore, puoi comprarlo e te lo puoi appendere sopra il camino, puoi dire: “È mio”, mostrarlo agli amici, scriverci persino poesie mentre lo guardi e ne studi i colori, la tecnica, la luce. 

Ma non sentirai mai l’odore di salmastro, non affonderai i piedi nella sabbia sentendola scorrere tra le tue dita, non ti si incrosterà di salsedine la pelle, i capelli, persino la lingua mentre segui con lo sguardo un gabbiano che vola via, non ne sentirai il respiro che si spezza tra le onde. 

E quando qualcuno ti chiederà: “Dimmi, cos’è allora l’amore?”, tu resterai in silenzio e sorriderai. Lui non lo saprà, non capirà, ma in quel sorriso, per un attimo, gli avrai mostrato cos’è per davvero… l’amore. 

©Elisabetta Barbara De Sanctis

The love.
How do you explain love to those who have never met him? These people recognize them right away because love always has them on the tip of their tongue and the ease with which they change the object of their supposed love is the same with which they change their underwear.

The heartbeat, the pain in the sternum, the need to feel, to have, to possess, the thought that obsesses you ... they are not love. It's beautiful falling in love, but it's not love, just like a picture that represents the sea is not and never will be the sea because you can watch it for hours, you can buy it and you can hang it over the fireplace, you can say : "It's mine", show it to friends, even write poems while you look at it and study its colors, technique, light.

But you will never smell the smell of salt, you will not sink your feet in the sand, feeling it flow through your fingers, you will not get salt, skin, hair, even your tongue, while you look at a seagull flying away, not you will feel the breath breaking between the waves.

And when someone asks you: "Tell me, what is love then?", You will remain silent and smile. He will not know, he will not understand, but in that smile, for a moment, you've shown him what it really is ... love.

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Free:

Some people don’t realize the simple beauty the open road can have. Trapped in their box with loud music, air conditioning and tinted windows, they travel these beautiful roads with blinders. The best way to experience the open road, is on a motorcycle. The only thing in your ears is the roar of the engine, And your own voice in your head. Your mind gets lost in the details of the surrounding nature. You feel like you can ride into the clouds. You discover the beauty, of a simple road in the middle of nowhere. Emotions go through your head like yellow lines on the road. For that moment you’re on your bike, You feel free.

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MORI POTIUS QUAM TRADAT LIBERTAS MEA

( Meglio morire che rinunciare alla propria libertà

Better to die than to give up our freedom)