Art pictures

The joker
The Yellow House

Brown Eye Gal


The Adventure

>That afternoon he phoned her. She saw his name on the display but she wanted to play it cool so she let it ring for some time. When she answered he said:
“I have some days off, what do you wants to do?” he sounded just like the man with muscles although he was just made of bones and soft skin.

She was excited, she wanted to be with him for at least a weekend, but how was she going to do so. He was always busy with work, that was the only thing that disturbed her in that relationship. Finally he wanted to have her for the whole weekend. The dilemma this time was – how was she going to escape the her boyfriend.

For the next two day she avoided bringing up a light lie that was ruminating in her head. But then, on the third day she took the courage and said: “I’m going for a girlie holidays for the whole weekend.” She casually dropped the topic when he came to visit that evening.

“A girlie holidays?… I thought you didn’t like going to party with the girls.” He wondered, smiling naively.
“I’ve changed my opinion on that since I started my new work” she was so concentrated on the boring tele-soap, that she had the sensation her boyfriend suspected something.

She turned to look at him. She wanted to make sure she was just imagining things. In fact he was clueless as a cat before the butcher. She smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you darling, I will buy you something when I am coming back.” She then got up because she had to park her bag for the weekend. She was all excited about the skimpy clothes she was going mother for her lover.


Her: How are you doing? 

Him: Fine, how about you?

: I miss you.

: I do miss you too.

: Why don’t you ever phone then?

: Even if I phone you I can’t show you how I feel because you won’t be mine.

I want to be yours.

I wish you could be mine. I would show you the moon.

: Do you really mean it.

: Of course I do. I’ve always wanted you in my life. I don’t konw if it is love yet or affection. What I know is that I would like you near me and I want to know you better. I believe loving you would be easy more than loving someone else, because I really like you. You are like Bocelli’s picture from the sea, and your brain seems like a bright woman born in the renaissance in the Medici family and you were taught by the great masters of Italian literature. With you I can talk for hours non stop. We have many things in common, like museums, theatre, concerts… and making love. I really don’t like the other woman, although she is okay. I can’t talk in a free way like I do with you. I can’t show my hundred percent passionate side, and with you is easy, because You always want more… just like me…

: Over the phone is so difficult. I can’t see your face. I love to look at you, your lips, your eyes… your hands can hold unto mine like this… I can lay my head on your shoulder… and just like now you can caress my face. The other one doesn’t touch my face or my head… He doesn’t kiss my neck like you are doing… doesn’t kiss my ears, my eyes, my nose, my cheeks with desire… all the things you do are not in his dictionary. I really like you too…

The Dream: Part 3

The night was not over yet.
He was there will the other woman. I was alone, without any man, because I wanted to go the party without anybody. I wore a black-red vintage short dress, my legs were slender thanks to the high heels that were killing my back. I wore little make up as possible; I wanted my natural beauty to shine through the night. My hair was pulled up in a wild pony tail, the only eccentricity allowed that evening.
He was already at the party when I got there, late as usual. His eyes were frantically looking for someone, perhaps me.

Although the house where the party was held was full of men and women, he was the first one my eye meet once I entered the door.

I was standing in the doorway and he was near the bar while his girlfriend was standing next to him, disturbing the picture. The people around us dimmed into ghosts. We became the only living people there. Flying through the ghosted people he got close to me, while the music reduced to a melodic acoustic guitar, he gently touched my face. I closed my eyes and throw my head back, tasting again the softness of his manly fingers on my skin. My body was calling for him, but without response. I didn’t want to do nothing sorrounded by those ghosted people. The music was playing a modern waltzer only for us. He hugged and pulled me towards him, we became one soul for an instant, but then everything started to move as normal and the music faded away…

The Dream: Part 2

The atmosphere was dim. He came close to my left ear and whispered: “I long for you, now.” the machine in me started to pump more blood. I knew that at last he couldn’t resist me. I couldn’t resist him either.
We both wanted it there and then. Between the big rubbish containers.
Suddenly he was kissing me ardently, with trepidation, because he didn’t want to miss a drop of the liquid from my mouth. His erection was playing in his jeans. I was wet. I couldn’t wait any longer. All my body needed it badly.
“Please, hooo please…”
My mouth was dry; I needed more of the liquid from his mouth. He gave it to me and gently pressed his forefinger between my firm legs.

“Uh, mmmm, hoo, yes! Yes!, Oh, please hoooo, don’t stop!”

He didn’t stop. He kneeled down, under me. He used his tongue like an icecream-scoop, and scooped the cream deep down in me.
“Hooo, hoooo, haaaa, mmmm ‘m yours. I’m getting there don’t stop.” my voice was reduced into whispers of desire.
He was erected like a charged gun ready to shoot. He did shoot, in me, initially gentle, then hard core. I loved it, hoooo, finally he made me see the bright light.



Inside my heart is blighting
while my head is spinning
invain trying to forget
but he’s stagnant
Why it has to happen to me?
Why me?
Does he think about me
in the way I do think about him?
Please somebody help me.
I want to destroy his person in me,
but this seems impossible.
The smell of his after shave is invading me.
I’ve lost sleep again,
maybe he’s feeling the same way
but he won’t phone me to hear my voice
because he’s trying to decompose the sound of it.
Perhaps, he has strong will power
and he can manage not to phone.
Once he told me: “When you
don’t feel okay with somebody
I think the story has to stop.”
Then why did he went back to her?
Maybe it because of what I told him:
“You always have to work hard
to make a relationship succeed.”
In fact last time he told: “I’ve decided to try.”
I might be naive; surely he wants me
but knowing that he can’t have me
he had decided to try with of the other girls.
He avoided to see me the last night of my stay,
to save himself from the pain.

Conversation Within

My head is killing me and I don’t know why. I feel like if I’ve being in a deep sleep all this month, but… (sigh…) I feel sleepy.

The unconscious spoke:

I wanted to make him mine, to shag him; how much I wanted it?!! Mmmmmmm, oh please, please, please…. please, sex me hard. I want your sex, badly…

I don’t want to wake up…

The field was spread with wheat. I was walking in front and he was two or three steps behind. I was wearing a pair of red tight jeans and a light t-shirt. He was wearing a pair of blue straight jeans and a loose light pink shirt. The wind was blowing through his light brown hair and his green eyes were brighter. Oh…, I wanted him and I was sure he wanted me too. He said something which I couldn’t hear but I started giggling and turned to face him. He moved little bit quicker and got hold of my right arm. I didn’t pose resistence, I wanted his manly but gentle touch on my skin – any part. He couldn’t touch any other part of my flesh if not only the parts esposed to the nature and sun.
The summer was having it effect on us.

The song

The italian song Teorema by Marco Ferradini, explains quite truthfully how a love story function. Most of the times when a woman is loved deeply she wants the other man, the one who brocked her heart more than the one who gives her everything. This is how I feel, the one who I used to love wants me after seven years in which something could have happened; now is me who could jeopardize my beautiful story with the right person for me. I don’t know what to do. Oh, please somebody help me.

Maybe Madness

I just what to be loved,

I know I’m loved

but I need more love.

I wish I could write all my thoughts

without forgetting anything,

but it is impossible.

I want a lot of things

but I don’t know how to achieve them,

I only know that if I put my mind and energy on them,

then I will accomplish them.


“I don’t know why I feel the way I do” these words from Bryan Adams’ song How do ya feel tonight had shaked something in my unconscious and I don’t know what it could be. The last words of my phrase have reminded me of the Cranberries‘ song Empty, there is something coming out of this. In the song, Dolores sung “Something has left my life, And I don’t know where it went to”; maybe something has left my of life and I’m still looking for it, but what could it be. The way the unconscious works is complex, and it is even more when is myUnconscious. Hopefully I can explain it in future, for now I will just focus on whatever comes into mind and without thinking about it I will note it on this page.

Deep breath, the therapy will begin slowly.