Bianca. Ediz. inglese

We smile at ourselves, in our enamored eyes. Bianca, a forty-year-old single woman, recounts herself in her fragile world, made of loves, passions, and drawings about the future. She defines herself as a "fruit fallen from the tree," destined to rot on the ground unseen, because all eyes are on the branches, as it should be. Love drives the world and gives life, and only when you fall in love do you see the flaws, realizing them after your heart has been irrevocably ignited.Davide, ICE, Claudio, Marco. Bianca's men. Her males who give passion, strength, positivity, sadness. "Why did I let myself be taken so intensely by ICE?" "Why did I deliberately fall into the trap I built with Claudio?" These are the questions that torment Bianca: her mind races far faster than her pen and is already opening a tear, like a painting that cracks, revealing another world, like a wound in her heart that keeps dripping blood, drop by drop, draining her strength.A master paints on a white palette and has taken shape-the shape of Bianca. Sex, the marvelous acrobatics we admire in the mirror, alone that would be worth gold. Sex that releases hormones and makes you more beautiful, positive, and active: it gives well-being and energy to face the shit waiting outside. And ICE embodies it perfectly, living it enviably: his eyes suddenly light up and animate.Life is like a carousel: you never know if you'll get off with nausea or with a smile of ecstasy. The fairy tale of the half-apple tells us that our perfect half does not exist: there are many halves, with cocoons and rough edges, and we try to match them with ours, giving the appearance of perfect fit-but it's not so.