We will stop talking slowly in the future. I might still be smoking the same old brand of cigarettes we used to smoke. Or even keep the dresses you left home after a quick visit. But. Slowly, in the future, we will stop talking. I might still listen to the same Playlist we created. Even keep the movies we love to watch over and over again. I swear I will keep the books we kept exchanging, and sure, I will go through the highlighted neon green letters. Over and over again. I will go through the old hard disk full of our selfies. The one on a rainy day in the cable cars over that dam and gardens, The one at the railway station when I was saying you a brief good bye. The one where you looking at the stars, I can barely see you but you still there, looking at the stars and gazing at me often. But. Eventually, in the future, we will stop talking. I might call you occasionally over a long-distance phone call. And I am sure I will ask about your mother's arthritis. I will always k
The so-called black sheep of the family are, in fact, hunters born of paths of liberation into the family tree. The members of a tree who do not conform to the norms or traditions of the family system, those who since childhood have constantly sought to revolutionise beliefs, going against the paths marked by family traditions, those criticised, judged and even rejected, these are usually called to free the tree of repetitive stories that frustrate entire generations. The black sheep, those who do not adapt, those who cry rebelliously, play a basic role within each family system, they repair, pick up and create new and unfold branches in the family tree. Thanks to these members, our trees renew their roots. Its rebellion is fertile soil, its madness is water that nourishes, its stubbornness is new air, its passion is fire that re-ignites the light of the heart of the ancestors. Uncountable repressed desires, unfulfilled dreams, the frustrated talents of our ancestors are manifested in