Short story (pt. I)

I felt sick to my stomach and the blood ran out of my body. She was the only one I wanted to speak to in this moment, but she wasn’t here anymore. That’s what they said. I wanted to tell her about someone who died, but I couldn’t comprehend that that someone was my love.

Nononononono! this is a dream no a nightmare haha a bad joke I must wake up yes yes

I hit myself.

No rĂŞverie no nightmare. But I’m still here and the pain is flooding my body like venom. Why. Why. I throw up. Maybe I have misunderstood.
David’s voice was still piercing my ears and heart : suicide, man.
I laid on the cold marble starring at the ceiling. How can a person process this kind of information? I should ran out of the door up there but my reactions were delayed by my lost of cognition. Numbness. Like when you’re in a dream and something chases you and cannot run faster by any means and everything seems in slow motion.
I’ve finally found an energy residue and pulled myself on my feet after who knows how long, put a shirt on and rushed out of the door. I didn’t grab my car keys or jacket .
I wanted to run. To exhaust this flesh that was bleeding despair.
It must’ve taken me one hour to get at her apartment. My legs were so shaky when I reached her block that I’ve collapsed in front of the entrance. I didn’t feel any pain, the adrenaline took care of it. I didn’t even see the police and ambulance outside.
Someone exited the building and I got in.
First floor, apartment 5. Lots of strangers outside taking notes and speaking to each other .

Get out get out get out, I wanted to yell

How can we be so alive next to a breathless corpse? It’s like we’re defying it. It’s so peculiar.

There she was on the bed, her tiny body covered with a sheet. People stopped talking and David came up to me and put his hand on my shoulder muttering I think ‘sorry’, but I was deaf . Everything seemed like a horror movie that I wanted so bad to end. Void all around me, emptiness and the sound of death.
There I was next to the light of my life that went out and I have pulled that thing off her face. She was so beautiful that I was afraid of waking her up. But there was no life in that chest . Porcelain face with long dark lashes. Her under-eyes looked like purple twilights over the dark forests. I could still see her white teeth peaking between the pale lips. I knew them so well, every curve, every line, every shade.
I didn’t even noticed that I was mourning in despair . Her shoulder was wet by my tears. Strays of her hazel hair touched her cheek. The were no roses anymore in them.
She was wearing her silk black robe. I wanted to sit there next to my love and sleep the pain away. Forever.
She was so cold, so cold that my heart convulsed. I kneed in front of the bed and grabbed her hand, slipping my fingers through hers. Her nails were painted bright red resembling blood droplets contrasting with the pale skin. The irony.
Why why why I kept screaming and punching the wall next to me until David pulled me back and hugged me.

I know, I know. Come here, let’s talk, he whispered.

To be continued… đź’—


Cry me an espresso


She started crying. There must have been something with the music, with the ones next to her, with the memories, with the sun making its way out of the depressed clouds. Strays of blonde hair sparkled in the light while she tucked them behind her ear. It just came out of nowhere, like when you let the water run for too long when you want to take a bath and it floods the floor. Maybe it was just the cold that bothered her. Or the fact that every time she liked someone, something was supposed to go wrong. Like a Murphy’s law. She’s the girl he never met. And maybe he never will.
The only thing she’s left with from him are laconic texts and infatuation.

Idealisation is the monster underneath the bed. A fantasy that in the end, if you’ll let it get to you, will vampirise your soul.
She knew that, but it all seemed like quicksand with nothing around to cling to. And getting drunk on rĂŞveries is what she’s really good at. She doesn’t have any talents, just hypersensitivity. Maybe that’s what makes her interesting.

She wipes the tears with the edge of the shirt.


I do know everything happens for a reason. Bah, I mean I try to tell myself that. Most of times I’ll never know the why. But my brain is so fucked and masochistic, completely unrational under the spell of virtual love. He keeps going back over and over again, disobeying my orders. Or maybe it’s my heart that does that. So infantile.

Like a splinter in your finger, it hurts when you touch it. Affliction mostly comes from the lack of a reason. Questions without answers and so many what ifs. If she knew all the details of a situation for sure, it would be like a band aid. Painful , but at least she’ll know why and where is the issue.

But nobody owes us anything, she thought. No explanations, no goodbyes, no love.

Life is life. As tautological as that sounds. The good thing is you know you’re alive in the midst of it all.

Get your shit together, the world doesn’t revolve around you, kid

She smiled and straightened her back, put on Fausto Leali and danced her way into the kitchen.

I need a strong espresso.

She laughed, how I like my men.

Gorges de l’Ardèche


Yesterday was a truly amazing day. We had our breakfasts and headed to our destination: Gorges de l’Ardèche. Firstly we stopped at a market and grabbed some food and I wanted to steal all the pastries and have a decadent relationship with them. It’s like kryptonite for me.

 We drove through the loveliest and smallest medieval cities from the 12th century and saw the largest fields with lavender. It’s a pity we’re not witnessing their blooming season. It’s magic. We kept going up and the most beautiful sceneries winked at us. The friendliest goats came to our car and we had a chat and fed them some focaccia. Gourmet stuff.


Now we’re here.

Gorges de l’Ardèche. It’s basically made up of a series of gorges in the river and locally known as the “European Grand Canyon”, 30 km long.  The coolest part is that you can see the forgotten caves in which people lived for over 300,000 years. It’s strage at the same time to drive by a cave right next to you that was habituated by humans like you. Over 2,000 caves are found in the gorge, some of them painted.
NB:the best-known painted cave in the gorge is the Chauvet Cave.
The thing I regret is that we did not have time to hike, it would have been a dream. Instead we stopped on top of a peak and had our brunch, let’s call it. Camembert, saucisson, mandarins…the basics.
I took a bite of my croissant and marveled at the panorama. It looked like a scene from Lord of the Rings. The peace, amazement and gratitude for this earth hits you.  I took another bite and closed my eyes.
Breathe in, exhale
The pure crisp air flooded my lungs and the sun kissed my cheeks. Sometimes you can fall in love with places too. People come and go, they say things they don’t mean in order to get what they want, they’ll break your heart and go on with their lives. Most of the times it’s not even intentional and people promise forever until they find someone better. It sucks so bad. But nature’s not tendentious, she gives us unconditionally its beauty, we just have to open our eyes and receive it.
I want to fall in love more this year and I hope you do too. 

‘Good boy’


If you’re a horrible human being, the probability is that you’ll get worst in time. That is if you’ll never change. A good way to guide a person on the right path, or at least hold them there is to see the silver lining in the things they do. Acknowledge a good act and praise them for it as often as you can. Ignoring it is worse than punishing them, because at least you’re paying attention to them. It’s the same when you barely like someone and suddenly they’ll start neglect you. It emphasizes the feelings, even if it’s a psychological illusion.

So, if you want a person to change for the good, make sure they know what you specifically ask them to do and give them a pat on the head for it. So for example, if a friend is texting you daily, wanting to know how you are, meaning they do care about you, make it clear you are grateful for that. On the other hand, if someone in your life does wrong to you telling them to sort out their life, may seem vague. They won’t know where to start and what that change will mean to you. So be specific. Communicate and after their accomplishment give them the treat.

Good boy.


Thought of the day #6


RenĂ© Magritte – “L’heureux donateur”

People, pardon my french, don’t give a fuck if you are content and whether you live a good life. Often they resent you for it and most will envy you.

You really think anyone cares about your pictures? Were you are and what you do? I mean, unless you’re a celebrity or they’re in love, nobody gives a shit. It’s so weird how this social media thing works. One day we laugh at videos with animals, later you write a nasty comment and other times you’re Sherlock, finding their whole genealogy and their math teacher from 4th grade. We’re interested in someone’s life if there’s something in for us too. Dopamine, mystery and misery of our fellow homo sapines.

The latter is kind of fascinating, how we dwell into others unhappiness. Displayed or hidden. I mean, we’re seldom like coyotes, smelling periods worsening in people’s lives. It feels fine because we seem to have it better or seeing they’re in the same deep waters as us.

…You and me, such a weird mix of feelings and intentions. And the worst part is that we don’t even know what we’re capable of in times of utter fatality.Be

Thought #5

Write often how you feel, why and what can you do to improve your situation. Trust me, you’ll thank yourself later. Start by taking pen and paper and write “blablabla” if you don’t know how to start.

Time changes our perception of certain things that happened in time, therefore our memory is flawed and relative. Nostalgia makes you sweeten past times that at that moment in time you dreaded. Suddenly your memories are starting to become altered, and you react to them with wrong emotions. Basically what I’m staying is that you’re not a reliable source of objective reminiscing. So don’t trust yourself too much. Ever.

We are so fluctuant in everything we do and this is why we should have something abiding in our lives. Otherwise our lenses through which we view the world and “values”, change with fashion, moods, exterior influence and so on.

So Kant’s categorical imperative can alter just because someone comes up with a different dogma( Lol, even though that is a christian principle put in entangled and sophisticated words). For example, If you see your biggest enemy in a car crash on the road, you won’t help him, how you’re supposed to do, you’ll just pass by because he drove a sports car and, in that place in time, sports cars are stigmatized. It’s kind of an infantile example, but you get the idea. You’re smart.

As far as I know, there’s only ONE being that stated He’s: “the way, the truth, and the life”. And I know it’s hard to digest and to absorb because it’s such a subjective matter, the faith. As Kierkegaard stated, you have to make the leap of faith understood as the act of believing in or accepting something outside the boundaries of reason. If you do not exercise your will into the direction of accepting the possibility of a providence, a savior, you can’t receive Him. It’s like you want help from a certain person, but you don’t reach out to them. How can they comfort you if you say you don’t need any help?

We don’t believe because we know too much or too little? Think about that and think critically about everything.

I guess it’s more a problem of the ego. How can I, a majestic being, talk with an abstract entity and to ask it to come into my life, if they claim they do exist. But this should not be in a presumptuous kind of way, that’s hypocrisy. Just genuine demand.

Trust me, it’s so amazing when you know you have a perennial, unchangeable axis mundi that gives you peace and lights up the way for you. I’ve been in the state where I didn’t know which way to go because there were so many paths, so many voices that I felt like going insane. Your anxiety skyrockets due so much uncertainty and vulnerability. All that leads in a way or another to depression and, ugh, that’s the lowest were I’ve been.


Wha man, I’m all over the place. But this is how thoughts are, right?

I’ll leave you with Shakespeare:

To be, or not to be, Ay there’s the point,
To Die, to sleep, is that all? Aye all:
No, to sleep, to dream, aye marry there it goes,
For in that dream of death, when we awake,
And borne before an everlasting Judge,
From whence no passenger ever returned,
The undiscovered country, at whose sight
The happy smile, and the accursed damn’d.