The italian riviera is some of the most dramatic coastal scenery, with astonishing splashes of colour here and there, and coral reefs, and a 19th-century railway line that cuts through a series of coastal tunnels and the steeply terraced cliffs bisected by a complicated system of fields and gardens that have been hacked, chiselled, shaped and layered over the course of nearly two millennia.
In the life of each of us, there is a place remote and islanded, and given to endless regret or secret happiness; we are each the uncompanioned hermit.
sometimes we all need to be alone. we need to ponder our vital and eternal in seclusion; far away from a thousand outside influences; we need the moonlight in the wilderness, by the seashore, or in the mountains and without companions, without conversation, face to face with ourselves, with only the music of our heart for company; to slip back into solitude to nurture our beautiful inner glow, to find our inner peace, to become complete, to secure immediate ease of mind, to understand 'what it is all about'...
for the more we have in ourselves, the less we need from the outside and the less others can be to us. isn’t it the ideal condition for reflection, even a kind of freedom?
I live a lot of lives next to you. when i wake up, i'm a postman. this is my first desire in the morning — to find a message from you. a crumpled trail of your head on the pillow. a closet door you forgot to close in a hurry. your car keys that disappeared from the hallway or a cup left in the sink. words on telegram. a smile and a kiss. your tracks, your messages. and i'm a postman, i carefully collect each of them. in the afternoon i am a hermit. you work, i work, each of us strives for life, we both despise idleness. i'm a hermit, i'm shut off from the world, i growl at its noisiness and enter my trip to fantasy, i write. about you, of course. and the stronger, the more perceptible i feel your absence, the more unpleasant the world around me becomes. i just remember about you. i miss you. and all the rest is just an echo of those feelings. you are my light, my golden sunflower, and i am your sad black and white charlie in a funny hat and ridiculous shoes. i'm a fool, i'm talking nonsense to make you laugh, without stopping. i am an arguer, i share my thoughts with you, walking through the labyrinths of vital views. i am a librarian, i listen to your words, reading the precious book of the closest soul. i'm a villain, i'm kidnapping you from everyone to spend time together, only two of us. i live a lot of lives with you. and without you i will live one single, infinitely long death.
I have a question for you today. what do you think of nudity on social media?
and which one is your favorite (1-6)?
Trust that some of the best days of your life haven’t even happened yet. there are going to be eternal multicoloured sunrises at 6am, spontaneous and awfully big adventures and experiences that teach you more than you ever learned in a classroom and that you're thinking can't be possible in real life. there are going to be nights that will stay burned beneath your eyelids, memories that dance underneath your skin. pink skies and jazz, secret rooftops glistening after a shower of rain and places where daisies sprout between the sidewalk cracks, waves breaking over rocks, the mast of a boat, airports and a hand waving from a train going to nowhere, walking hand in hand through foreign cities with someone you love, oceans and poetry. life is going to exceed your expectations, it is going to astonish you with its timing. remember — the world still has so much left for you.