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Feelings: Male and Female, He Created Them
Feelings: Male and Female, He Created Them
Feelings: Male and Female, He Created Them
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Feelings: Male and Female, He Created Them

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The balance of relationships between men and women has always been difficult. Nowadays, it is extremely difficult because the relationships are attacked by pseudoreligions. An educated woman who tried to remind his friend the importance of the women's inner beauty, their intelligencewell, he offended her in a violent way, pretending to be offended by the woman's words about the moral values. And when she went to meet him in order to look for a dialogue, also bringing some gifts, the policemen were called, with the order to put her in jail. The police said to the woman, "If you go back in front of the house (public space) this evening, you will be put in jail." I hope to express the suffering of many women owing to a lack of communication above all else. Quite often, men don't like to communicate. The stories are inspired by reality. The prose is also poetry because poetry is lacking in our society. We need poetry. Materialism advances, while spirituality and feelings are oppressed. With this book, I would like to make it clear that even if love hurts, it always wins. Ultimately, men and women have the rights to their own identities.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 12, 2016
ISBN9781504992152
Feelings: Male and Female, He Created Them
Author

Daniela Asaro

Daniela Asaro Romanoff is an author and journalist who defends the values of sport and historical honesty. She has written books about these subjects in Italian, Spanish, and French. The Cuban question is present in her writings too, as is evident in one of her books, Amanecer de Cuba. She is also a singer-songwriter who is very attentive to social problems. She has created some paintings and sculptures that are related to sports and physics. In the Autodrome of Monza, one can see a bust of Ayrton Senna that she made. Beyond her artistic endeavors, she works in a physics laboratory.

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    Feelings - Daniela Asaro

    AuthorHouse™ UK

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403 USA

    www.authorhouse.co.uk

    Phone: 0800.197.4150

    © 2016 Daniela Asaro. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 02/05/2016

    ISBN: 978-1-5049-9213-8 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-5049-9214-5 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-5049-9215-2 (e)

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Contents

    True Love Lives far from Materialism

    Bright and Sweet Dawn

    Shifty, Desired, Detested Encounter

    The Lost Generation

    Battery Park

    The Future Bride

    Last Frames of Life

    The Lawn

    These Trails Covered in Vain

    One Hour and Eighteen Minutes

    Broken Wings

    Time Flows Mysteriously

    A Short Vacation in the Nonexistent Labyrinth

    Is Pierre Your Name?

    In Buenos Aires, They Danced and Danced

    Modern lifestyles, money, drugs, easy divorces, and many other things can make relationships difficult.

    Lack of trust, dialogue, selfishness, and probably above all, the feeling of a need to control.

    —Jan de Rylski

    True Love Lives far from Materialism

    The tales I’m about to tell represent stories inspired by existential paths of various people. They lived and live in this society, in space-time dimensions that may be different than our own, but are nonetheless dominated equally by a beast that seeks to corrode the true love that can spring between a man and a woman. That beast is materialism.

    The protagonists of these tales love with their hearts, but their love stories often end up in a shambles due to social maneuvers and world orders that hang over characters and need to annihilate the dignity of human beings in order to direct everyone and everything.

    Lovers frequently talk by means of their souls, their hearts, with a language that cannot be heard, only perceived. When somebody sets himself or herself against this harmonious language by favoring the noise provoked by self-igniting individualism and careerism—as well as an apprehension to face others’ prejudices and judgment—some dissonance emerges. When a feeling turns into an uncontrollable passion, human beings are like small boats in a tempest; when we let destructive ideals and ideas dominate us, love becomes hatred toward ourselves and others.

    If we’re able to believe with tenacity that a bright and sweet dawn can rise, we will one day dance happily together—despite the many vicissitudes and misunderstandings—like the two lovers in Buenos Aires dancing in the streets. If precarious ideals don’t blight our souls, we can be reborn and move toward that small church among the cluster of pines.

    Someone loves us. He didn’t come to impose upon us any ban; He came to help us express sincere sentiments. If we accept His friendship, our pursuits will be fruitful. Whenever we let materialistic powers dominate us, we turn into by-products of those powers. whereas love becomes the frenzy gymnastics named sex: never satiated, nor happy, we will develop into egoistic sex slaves. There won’t be any respect, attention, or kindness because thoughts of flesh will have clouded our thinking and smothered our souls. Poor humans!

    In the event of those circumstances, I fell in love will be only a wild shout in a sea of anguish. Let’s ponder these realities if we still can.

    Bright and Sweet Dawn

    The maiden coming from the sea called him. He turned around just in time to glimpse her smile. Quickly, she scurried away, disappearing behind the shrubs.

    Where are you?! he shouted. Come back!

    But she had inexplicably escaped.

    Nobody can retain her; she appears, she vanishes. Many people say she’s a magnificent delusion, an old man told him. But you love the sea, so she’ll get back to you.

    The mariner followed the wise man’s suggestion and started waiting patiently for her on the shore at dawn. The sun was rising and the sky wore delicate colors. A voice startled him: Sailor, who are you?

    The voice was stern, imperious, and slightly impudent; he looked around but saw nobody. Who are you? he asked.

    The voice became sweeter and very melodic, but he kept silent.

    Tell me who you are!

    A man made of saltwater, algae, coral, and plenty of sunlight.

    Where do you come from, sailor?

    He preferred to stay quiet.

    Where do you come from? Tell me!

    The seaman noticed a certain anxiety in the tone of her voice. He decided to reply: I come from the blue dwelling. There, life is sweet to me.

    A light breeze was blowing, and the sun was high in the sky.

    Where are you going, sailor? Where?

    Another question was being asked of him, but he didn’t know why. He wondered, Were my answers seized by someone, or did they just get lost in the vacuum of my solitude? He decided not to react.

    Where are you going, sailor? Where?

    The voice was pressing him, and it wasn’t proposing a truce. With its jolly and sad notes, it hid violent emotions. He didn’t say anything, waiting for the third, fatal question.

    Where are you going? Tell me!

    I’m moving toward life, which can be found in the joy and the force of a spring, in the breath of a gardenia, in the slow and tenacious voyage of a white sail.

    The sailor had spoken heatedly and was now waiting for a new, urgent question. Soon, however, he realized he wasn’t alone anymore: a thin silhouette had come out of the shrubs as agilely as a gazelle and as splendidly as a birch in a moonlit night. As the figure was approaching, he caught sight of its visage. It had gracious features that expressed kindheartedness and generosity. The seaman asked her, uncertain and slightly afraid: Are you the maiden who comes from the sea?

    She smiled back and whispered, I am the little princess of the seas.

    Your eyes are wonderful, princess, said the mariner.

    Their marine blue reflects the sea’s color when the evening covers it with its mysterious coat. Also, your hair is wonderful, princess.

    It’s made of the sunrays that my father, the king of the seas, was able to collect for me.

    Your heart is wonderful, princess.

    "It’s a water lily. It is very fragile, but its

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