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Thoughts and Poems " I'm still here "


I'm still here, precious friend of the past, now too far, far too unreachable ...
You go around the world with your dress of white linen ... as the driven snow ... while I, look, through her tears a clear sign of your approval.
I'm still here and remains indelible in my memory the remembrance of your last smile for me ...
you who walked me down a path full of thorns ... and when I fancy ease my pain.
I know now that you've set on high mountains covered with snow and watch the world with your eyes clear and beautiful as an endless sea ...
I am still here and in the meantime, the first falling leaves of autumn ... and when the roads are covered with that yellow carpet and wind can play with it ... hear in the silence The rumble ... and think that you're healthy ...




Cristian Chiappetta

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Thoughts and Poems: The Voice of Silence"


For a long time I was sitting there listening to the voice of silence ... With eyes fixed on an object as if it were an integral part of that world I was living ... I was listening to while the world distracted by the noise set aside any thoughts ... Silence teaches us many things ... it's compare yourself with where the world becomes a stranger uncomfortable, but sometimes useful ... The sounds of silence are the butterflies move their wings with elegance and show you the right path of freedom and let you know that you are alive ... Silence is a lake that does not reflect the same image ... but better. This means that if we listen to that part of us that we can improve is silent ...
Aldo Carotenuto said: "There are clear answers as to a man who knows how to use an external rather than inner language."

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Thoughts and Poems: "The Journey" by Baudelaire


"We start the morning with a brain on fire, with a heart full of bitterness and
want to love, and we go, rocking to the rhythm of the waves
our infinite on the finite of the seas. Some are happy to escape a homeland
infamous, others the horror of their birth, others -
astrologers lost in the eyes of a woman - the tyrannical Circe from dangerous scents ... 7 But the real
travelers are only those that start to leave; hearts
light, similar to the balloons, they never separated from their fate, and
without knowing why, they always say "Come on! Their desires have
shapes of clouds. "

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the freedom we generate


Being free does not mean to fly like a dove ...
We can feel free in a room and live by ourselves ...
We can fly despite not having wings ...
is useless, because freedom is denied us by our thoughts that block us as an anchor meters and meters away from us ...
A prisoner can feel free in a prison ...
Freedom does not depend on places, by those who love or hate but it is a much more complex speech where the will to live to emerge and is combined with what we have at the moment, whether in office or in our ability to star just ...
You can walk in a big city and feel free or in a small and be haunted ...
Even people who deny freedom to others more often than not have a foundation ... Because in reality it is the executioner who becomes a victim of himself ... Perhaps because he is a masochist and is anchored in a sea too deep to come up ...
Aldo Carotenuto, psychotherapist, recently deceased, stated that: "Freedom as life is a gift that belongs to all people from birth and is the essence of the personality of each individual and will differ depending on the type of personality of the subject "...