Friday, April 3 You were never like them. You tried to fit in.To think the same.To move the same. But something always felt off. Not wrong. Just… different. Like you were meantfor another rhythm. Another way. And maybe that’s the point. Not to become like everyone else. But t
Friday, March 27 You don’t hear it growing. There’s no noise.No sign. Nothing that tells youit’s happening. And still… something is changing. Maybe you don’t see it yet. Maybe you don’t feel it yet. But it’s there. Slowly.Quietly. Just like this tree. And maybewe’
Tuesday, March 24 In my Florence,in Piazza Santissima Annunziata,inside Palazzo Budini-Gattai,there was a womanwho stood at her window. Looking out at the square,waiting for the man she loved. He had left for war. And he never came back. Still…she kept waiting. Not for days.Not
“Hi mom.”“Hi dad.” “Yes, everything is fine.”“Yes, work is good.”“No, don’t worry.” The calls are always short. Five minutes.Ten at most. Life sounds simple on the phone. You hang upand everything feels normal. Until one dayyou see them again. A little more
“What’s your name?” “Erjon.” A pause.A confused look. “Elio,” he says.It’s easierin a countrywhere his real namesounds strange. He arrived there when he was young. A new language.A new way of speaking.A new way of living. And new eyeslooking at himas someone who d
This morning, on my way to work, I heard the slow call of a dove. And suddenly I remembered something. I used to hear that sound every morning before going to school. It made the day feel lighter before it even began. And in the afternoon I would hear it again, and it felt like [
There are days on the calendar that remind us to celebrate love.They are beautiful, meaningful, and sometimes necessary.But love itself does not belong to a date. Love is not an appointment.Love is a state of being. As Roberto Benigni once expressed, love is not something that ex
I decided to write my wishes. My dreams. My thoughts. My favorite words. The sentences that belong to me. I decided to share them. To say them. To keep them clear and transparent. To give them… and to receive. Because maybe a piece of me is also a piece of you. Not to show them
It took time to write this. Not because the words were hard to find, but because the feeling didn’t want to be explained. Some of the most beautiful feelings can’t be described. Not because words are missing, but because words aren’t made for that. Words are for listening.
When we focus only on ourselves, something slowly shifts. Not all at once. Not in a dramatic way. We start protecting our space. Our time. Our comfort. And without realizing it, we stop seeing what’s around us. Human values don’t disappear suddenly. They fade quietly. We teac
