CLELIA MOSCARIELLO was born on April 13, 1981 in Naples. In 1999 he graduated from the Liceo Classico Vittorio Emanuele II in the same city and in 2008 he obtained a degree in Communication Sciences with top marks: 110/110 with honours. Passionate about music, cinema, fashion, aesthetics and creative writing, in 2008 she obtained a diploma as a literary consultant and editor of publishing houses, from here she worked until she became a freelance journalist and deals with culture, collaborating with the newspapers Periodico italiano magazine
In 2010 he published the first anthology of poems and stories entitled “L’ultimo notte da falena” with Davide Zedda La Riflessi. In 2017, his second collection of poems entitled “This Spring” was released by Irda Edizioni. In July 2018 the collection of ballads, “Battiti”, was released by Mezzelane Casa Editrice. His new collection of ballads and stories, entitled “I don’t love roses”, published by “Pav Edizioni”, will be released in November 2021. In March 2023 his fifth collection of stories and ballads called “Se ne fre la luna, stanotte” will be released and his new collection “Fuoco Sacro” will be released shortly, again for PAV Edizioni. Currently, in addition to her work as a journalist, Clelia Moscariello collaborates with various advertising and editorial agencies as a copywriter. Since 2018 she has dedicated herself as an author, blogger and social manager to her social page “Psico Baci” regarding literary quotes and author photography and to the blog connected. Her recent debut as a radio presenter at various web radio stations, including “Radioattiva”, “Extraradio” and “Radio non uno dipiù”. Finally, she recently obtained a certification in web marketing and social media marketing at the Milan Digital Coach school and collaborates with the “Amori.4.0” project in the team of professionals as a journalist and writer, specialized in awareness issues and female empowerment, gender mainstreaming, breaking down of stereotypes regarding education and cultural awareness relating to being a woman.


I wanted to dance without fear
and as bold as I could,
to awaken all creation from its daily torpor,
to warn everyone that spring was coming,
that the beautiful season was beginning
and that it was time for the world to emerge from its hibernation,
but the world, instead, wanted to continue sleeping
and then I started jumping up and down, as hard as I could,
as one of my gypsy sisters once taught me,
I, a deluded and desperate, disappointed and aggressive woman
I wanted to appear like a graceful woman and hover like a real butterfly, I wanted to whirl sublimely,
as the world slowly but surely sank into its long abyss
and I also wanted to be good at rising from my ashes like a skilled phoenix,
but the world wasn’t ready, they told me,
he still wanted to doze,
and I seemed to hear all those stupid conversations of the people,
about wars, about football
and about things women should or shouldn’t do at all
and even be able to fly over all with my sweet pirouettes,
while the indifferent world didn’t even turn to look at me
and then I started looking at the world from afar
and I thought how cool it would be
seeing everyone suddenly stop sleeping,
of treating women unfairly and waging war on each other
and then, finally, seeing everyone dance.
I was chewing bubble gum
and inside was all the chaos in the world
but above all there was all the chaos I had inside myself, mixed with your taste.
Yes, there was everything inside, absolutely everything,
there was my story and then yours
and then the chaos, the noises in the street,
everything was mixed and confused with the sound of car clacsons
and I wanted the moon…
while the world was mine, all mine
and I had only lost it inside…
at that point I was savour it.
When you’ll feel tired
listen to the sound of the rain,
think about my selfies
think of our smiles and our jokes and laugh,
you laugh heartily…
even if I’m far from you
because everything moves, and sometimes fast… too fast to understand,
then don’t try to understand,
the noise is too loud to hear…
think of me and smile,
go closer to the window and look… it’s raining…
and you will hear me inside that noise.

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