This was me yesterday, literally under a mountain-like pile of dirty laundry that badly needed to be done.
I haven't done it for like two weeks because I was sick and now I have to pay the price.
Plus I didn't have any clothes to wear at work anymore so there really wasn't any choice.
I usually go to public laundry rooms because it's just insane keeping a washing machine at home, specially after the arrival of a water bill worth € 400,00.
Oh, I closed the water supply the moment I saw that bloody bill.
Living in Italy has now finally become some sort of a suicide mission.
Anyway, while doing the laundry, I couldn't help but be hypnotized by the washing machine's movement. It's just so relaxing ... with the humming sound and the continuous cycle...and the bubbles...
I almost fell asleep right there and then...
For once I was really grateful for a noisy passerby screaming blasphemy on her phone, all directed to a probably equally pissed husband or boyfriend who was being called "idiota testa di cazzo".
It remains a mystery to me how two human beings who'd say those things to each other could stomach spending their lives together.
Another proof of humanity's insanity?
So I was drastically pulled back into awareness and I kept staring at those lovely bubbles. As usual, due to my innate gift of a chaotic internal chatter, ramdom thoughts continue to float around me. Most of the times useless things, once or twice, a flash of genius...which probably is a proof of my personal insanity.
But then again, we are all insane. It just differs depending on who's in front of you who will judge just how much of a nutcase you are.
Blowing bubbles...
I remember how much I love that game when I was a little girl...
We'd use gumamela flower petals and leaves to make decent bubbles. It was probably nothing but childish myth because we also added detergent to the bloody mess of the poor hibiscus plant.
Now I realize how much pain and loss we could've spared that poor plant. LOL!
So, like a completely hypnotized idiot, I continued to observe the bubbles inside the machine that kept spinning and spinning right in front of my eyes, like a master magician.
I watch with interest as I see the lovely bubbles slowly disappear as the next spin began to rinse the clothes inside.
Bubbles...
Colorful but fragile...
Beautiful yet too delicate...
Dreams are really like bubbles, I decided drowsily.
There are usually a lot of them... as we all have many dreams..linked all together... in various shapes and sizes... with those lovely rainbow colours. Many of them disappear too quickly...others are made of stronger detergents and they last longer. (Wow, this sounds like a detergent promotion! Lmao!)
But they are all pretty...
Like dreams...
Dream...dream...dream...
Bubbles are like dreams too...
Like our dreams that magically spring out of nothing and from unexpected things, bubbles start with the blowing of the wind during the most delicate moment of our lives.
They start from childhood...children's dreams are precious because they take us to where we woould be as grown ups...
Colorful and pretty...
It makes us dance around in glee, forever trying to catch it, only to lose it the moment our palms close around it.
Bubbles and dreams...
Enchanting and almost magical in their consistency.
Despite their wonderful nature though, they are fragile...yes, too delicate...
Both may turn into nothing with one small mistake...
Even the slightest touch...
Sometimes not even resisting the almost unnoticeable and painfully slow dance of time...
And so to keep those bubbles around, we have to keep blowing... so that even if the old ones explode and disappear, there would still be others to replace them, keeping the dream alive.
Maybe that's why so many grown ups walk around with tired, empty look in their eyes and their heads bowed. It takes a hell lot of strong will to keep the dream going...to keep the bubbles from turning into nothing. Others, hindered by so many things and circumstances, prick their bubbles themselves and throw away their dreams.
Because nothing is sure in this world.
Because to keep on blowing may cost a hell lot than what their dream is worth...
Or perhaps...because it's easier, you know...just letting go.
Life is easier when you have nothing to lose.
You have nothing to lose when you're not holding on to something so important..
But is that really the answer? The fact that you have nothing to lose...does that guarantee a better existence? Does it make you happy?
They say the the perfect fighter..worst enemy....is someone who has nothing to lose. Because he will be able to concentrate perfectly, no distractions or worries. Nothing to lose.
But to say this is to completely deny human nature.
Because human nature, despite its many flaws, can offer so much more than mere perfection.
This is God's special gift to us.
This is what makes us different from angels: Our free will.
The ability of mankind to go beyond its own limits.
To change...to grow...
To give...not just a hundred percent, but more.
This happens when the very heart of a human soul is triggered by something.
Like the need and desire to protect and defend the very reason of its existence.
A loved one.
Bubbles and dreams...
Both beautiful and elusive.
Like a will'o-wisp...
I usually dream of bubbles.
And those bubbles are so like my dreams...
I always run after it...chasing it like a carefree child.. In the end, though, I'm afraid to finally grasp it for the fear of touching the bubble and seeing it disappear.
For bubbles have this sort of dream-like quality.
And dreams are so very much like bubbles...
