a rusted reflection

Ode to all the crappy sh** about anger management and counting to ten before erupting like a Vessuvius in his better days.
Humans are faulty computers. They watch films and think that everything else works like those 120mins. They expect romatic love stories with a good dose of happy ending for instance. And then, shock of the shocks, someone gets very sick, or someother gets a bit edgy, and all the romatic happy ending goes up in smoke taking with it the love story as well. We are growing our children in all this unfortunately. Everyone is trying to make his/her life as similar as possible to that perfect fairytale, keeping all the anger and fear and hatred and hurt inside, and then we all look surprised when out comes the paper attatched to a divorce lawyer, full of tiny bullets, and a straight line with "please sign here" at the very very bottom.
We, in turn, were grown in a world were everyone thinks only about himself, his needs and his interests. We rarely stop to think what is best for someone else, or to understand someone else's point of view. And if by any genetic error we actually do..then someone else crops up telling us we're softy idiots.
It is a vicious circle. I don't do it, so you don't do it, so he doesn't do and so on. Why should I do it if no one else bothered? And all our values down the drain. I'm not innocent either. I'm as guilty as everyone else. Nowaday we all sit at our computers, staring at that blank screen for hours on end; to think that everything we are actually interacting with is a set of 1s and 0s. And there is a person sitting at the other computer, or cooking downstairs, or watching tv in the other room, and it never crosses our minds to go over and simply be in the room with them. Sure, there's plenty of time to do that, we can do it some other day, yeah right, on the 12th of never.

Lancome

Cic

Dear You,

I am writing this with the hope you will never get to read it before my death. I have known you for over a year now, and I often find myself thinking back on the days when I used to look at you from a distance. You where quiet, shy, spoilt, lonely, independent and appealing. I also remember myself always overdoing it with words, actions and smss. Then we got closer, 11 months ago, and there started my mad rollercoaster ride.
You pissed me off a million times, confused me a million others and made me cry rivers and rivers. It was though, I admit it, and it still is. But today I realize how you helped me grow up and mature. You taught me how to love you, and you showed me the real value of simple gestures. I had to learn how to count to 1000,000 before I blow my top. You taught me the softness of a touch and the harshness of a pinch. You taught me how to draw, and even though you are so good at it, you still find things to praise in my simple, sketchy drawings. You listen and listen and listen to my endless chatter and taught me how to listen too, to your silence. You taught me how to drive, let me get behind your steering wheel; let me overheat your car. I savoured the stars with you, and the smell of the sea, and the sound of the boats floating, but also the mosquito bites while drunk. I shared my greatest secret with you, and you didn't make it weigh. You wanted me to participate in your journey as an artist and professional, and you value my opinions more than any other. You taught me how to admit when I'm wrong, and you ALWAYS know when I'm lying. We shared the most delicious white chocolate cheese cake ever, and fought over our first ever fried ice-cream and baci cake. You want me always walking in front, and you always make sure I don't get under any cars, be it with some nasty comment, a firm order or a gentle tug. You hugged me when I cried because I thought I was disappointing you... and deep down I know you trust my driving, even though you give me such a hard time.

...

Love,
Christine