Culture. Eat it
30 January 2018
It all starts from the body and ends with the body.
The body I live in is not justa a shell which carries me here and there along my life path.
The body I live in is the only real thing I own.
It belongs to me, to my choices e to my life. It belongs to my personal tastes, my cravings, failures.
It changes with me: it has been skinny and endearing or comfy and comfortable. It has been young, it has been old.
My body is my greatest teacher: it has taught me to be patient, to listen without talking.
It has taught me how to take care of it: nourishing it properly, having exercise. Avoiding to intoxicate it.
My body knew how to screw me STOP when I was unable to eat anything. My body gave up when I was so over myself it couldn’t move on. It started strong passions, it gave life to them.
The body I live in carries pleasure, strain, lust. It stands for a permeable membrane that let me know my own life.
A body is a presence, is a contact. A body could turns into a drug. It could be missed as it was a part of your.
The body is memory who speaks with scars and tattoos.
The body is an adviser: it always knows where we are feeling good and safe.
It knows which skin is better for us to lay with, to be considered an home forever. An home to leave, an home to return.
An home which live into ourselves.
Community Manager with a passion for sociology, I've lived for six years between Padua and Milan. Once I wrote an odd theory on Mathematics, on a Mathematics task. I took zero and the professor told me that I had to find an outlet for my too much imagination, if I wanted to live in the real world. I bought a notepad and began to write to him everything that was going through my head, so love for writing was born, love for expression.