Let Me Bring You Down 40

You're stinky.

2 pm
My boss: "You're stinky, today. Really stinky."
Me: "You should smell me during the mating season!"
My boss: "Mating season?!"
Me: "Yes. I grow a reddish fur, long antlers, become really aggressive and spread pheromones."

Fuck, what do you expect? I started working at 7, at 7:17 I was already soaked of sweat and since it wasn't enough I drove for 2 hours in a backhoe without air-conditioning.

Let Me Bring You Down 39

Does it really matters?

I'm not so sure any more.

War Of The Worlds

Luckluster

Times when I just can't
Bring myself to say it loud
'Fraid that what I'll say comes out somehow awry

That is when it seems
We move in circles day to day
Twist the drama of the play to get us by

And it feels like fear
Like I'll disappear
Gets so hard to steer
Yet I go on
Do we need debate
When it seems too late
Like I bleed but wait
Like nothing's wrong

You lift my spirit, take me higher, make me fly,
Touch the moon up in the sky, when you are mine
You lift me higher, take my spirit, make it fly,
Where all new wonders will appear

Like the other day
I thought you won't be coming back
I came to realize my lackluster dreams

And among the schemes
And all the tricks we try to play
Only dreams will hold their sway and defy

When it feels like fear... 
Like I'll disappear
Gets so hard to steer
Yet I go on
Do we need debate
When it seems too late
Like I bleed but wait
Like nothing's wrong

You lift my spirit, take me higher, make me fly,
Touch the moon up in the sky, when you are mine
You lift me higher, take my spirit, make it fly,
Where all new wonders will appear, oooohhhh

You lift my spirit, take me higher, make me fly,
Touch the moon up in the sky, when you are mine
You lift me higher, take my spirit, make it fly,
Where all new wonders will appear

Take me high
Make me fly

Sing...

...or write for absolution.



Lips are turning blue
A kiss that can't renew
I only dream of you
My beautiful

Tiptoe to your room
A starlight in the gloom
I only dream of you
And you never knew

Sing for absolution
I will be singing
And falling from your grace

There's nowhere left to hide
In no one to confide
The truth burns deep inside
And will never die

Lips are turning blue
A kiss that can't renew
I only dream of you
My beautiful

Sing for absolution
I will be singing
And falling from your grace

Sing for absolution
I will be singing
And falling from your grace

Our wrongs remain unrectified
And our souls won't be exhumed

Friends in London 6

Prima di lasciare Londra ho dato una breve serie di party, pranzi e cene, per lo piu' a casa mia per salutare le persone che conosco la'. Un po' per il mio desiderio di chiudere alcuni "conflitti", un po' su richiesta di altre persone, l'invito e' stato esteso anche ad alcune ragazze che avevo bandito da casa mia per ragioni varie, il cui valore e' relativo alla allora situazione contingente e al mio stato d'animo. In poche parole, non essendoci il rischio di rivederle piu', potevo permettermi il lusso di fare pace e incontrarle nuovamente. Non tutte hanno afferrato la cosa e ci sono state proposte di venire in vacanza a trovarmi. Ma in seguito mi sono premurato che il concetto fosse chiaro, con dichiarazioni ben mirate, la piu' gentile delle quali e' stata: "Andro' ad abitare in una palafitta e riservero' il piano terra per gli ospiti. Vi faccio dormire su materassini gonfiabili." Il riferimento agli effetti liberatori (per me) dell'alta marea sono chiari, ritengo.
Durante uno di questi incontri, l'ultimo di essi tenuto a casa mia per la precisione, c'e' stata una conversazione che chissa' perche' e' arrivata a toccare il matrimonio. Per intenderci la conversazione del "se vuoi ti trombo, ma non ti sposo". Fra insinuazioni scherzose e recriminazione falsamente scherzose sul fatto che non mi posso sposare (effettivamente sono tutt'ora legalmente sposato), in modo che non mi ricordo la conversazione e' scivolata sull'uso del bagno e in particolare della tazza.
"A me basta che la tavoletta sia abbassata!" ha detto una delle ragazze (quella che si lamentava del fatto che sono gia' sposato).
"Ma intendi la tavoletta o la ciambella?" chiedo io.
"Della ciambella mi importa poco. Perche', scusate tanto, io non mi siedo per fare pipi'!"
L'ho guardata esterrefatto. Alle manie igieniche c'e' un limite! E io che ti ho pure scopata... Meno male abbiamo usato il preservativo, altrimenti chissa' cosa mi avresti attaccato. 
Non l'ho detto, ma avrei dovuto.

Before quitting London I hosted some parties and meals, mostly at my home, to bid farewell to my acquaintances. Partly for a personal wish to end some disputes, partly for a third party request, I invited also some girls who I had banned from my home. The merit of such a ban was depending on the situation and on my mood on that time. Otherwise,  I could afford to see them because there was no risk to meet again in the future. Not everybody grasped that concept and talks about coming on holiday at my place started. But later on I made sure for everybody which was the status, with the kindest thing I uttered being: "I'll rent a stilt house and reserve the ground floor for guests. Inflatable mattresses for all." I suppose the reference to the liberatory effect (for myself) of high tide is quite clear.
During one of these encounters, the last happened at my home exactly, we had a conversation which touched (I don't know why) the marriage. To make it clear, it was the conversation of "I can fuck you, but I will not marry you". From playfully innuendos to pretended jokingly recriminations about my impossibility to get married (actually because I'm still legally married), the chat drifted, I don't remember why or how, to the toilet's use and in particular of the bowl.
"To me, to find the lid closed is fine!" said one girl (the one complaining about my married status).
"Do you mean the lid or the seat?" I asked.
"I don't care about the seat. Pardon me, but I don't seat down when I wee!"
I stared at her shocked. There is a limit even to hygiene mania! And I fucked you... Luckily we use the condom or I don't know what I could get from you.
I didn't say it, but I ought to have said it.

The malady of reverie 2

E' in pomeriggi come questo, privi di scopo e vinto dal desiderio di cio' che non posso avere, che mi convinco che il danno sia ormai stato fatto e che non possa essere riparato piu'. Domani magari pensero' diversamente, ma per il momento soccombo ai ricordi e rivivo sensazioni smarrite, andandole a cercare nelle fibre del corpo. Cio' che e' passato e' perduto e non puo' tornare. Ma farsene una ragione non e' facile.

It's in days like this, deprived of meaning and defeated by the longing of what I cannot have, that I come up with the conviction that the damaged is already happened and cannot be fixed. Tomorrow I may think differently, but now I give in to memories, living again lost sensations, searching them into my body's fibres. What has passed is lost and cannot come back. But coming to terms with that is not easy.

The malady of reverie

My inverse insomnia...

“There are few of us who have not sometimes wakened before dawn, either after one of those dreamless nights that make one almost enamoured of death, or one of those nights of horror and misshapen joy, when through the chambers of the brain sweep phantoms more terrible than reality itself, and instinct with that vivid life that lurks in all grotesques, and that lends to Gothic art its enduring vitality, this art being, one might fancy, especially the art of those whose minds have been troubled with the malady of reverie.”

― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

Sail away

Ho attraversato due mari in cerca di qualcosa che ho dimenticato cosa fosse, spiegato le vele per lasciarmi alle spalle qualcosa che non avevo veramente capito. Raggiungere l'altra sponda e' un atto privo di significato, un viaggio privo di valore alcuno. Ma salpare sul mare di un'anima umana, solcare le onde dello spirito di una persona, e' qualcosa di completamente differente. Quello e' l'unico viaggio che merita di essere intrapreso.

I crossed two seas seeking something I've forgotten what it was, set sail to leave at my back something I hadn't really understood. To reach the other shore is a meaningless deed, a journey devoid of any value. But making sail on the sea of a human soul, to cut through the waves of a person's spirit, that's completely different. That's the only journey deserving to undertake.

When the silence speaks

I would never tell

I would never tell if you had a secret 
Dark as it may be, I would never tell 
You don’t have to fear, proof that you can trust me 
If you let me in, I will share the guilt 

I would never tell 
I would never tell 

Whisper close to me here behind the curtain 
Mum and Dad can’t hear us, and I would never tell 

I would never tell 
Even if it killed me 
Even if it hurts 
I know you don’t mean it 

Oh, what do I know 
About what's right and wrong 
Oh, what do I know? 

I would never tell 
Even if it killed me 
We can go to hell 
I’m your little secret 
And you can never leave me 
Oh, you can never leave me 
Yeah, you can never leave me 

...Otherwise I’ll tell. 

Oh, what do I know 
About what's right and wrong 
Oh yeah, what do I know? 
I’m just a little girl

Guns of Brixton

The horror! The horror! 2

Let Me Bring You Down 38

The funny side of English Language 4

Let Me Bring You Down 37

The sound of silence

And now, for many, the silence will be.

Which become music for those

who have got the gift of listening.

London, the sepulchral city

``No, they did not bury me, though there is a period of time which I remember mistily, with a shuddering wonder, like a passage through some inconceivable world that had no hope in it and no desire. I found myself back in the sepulchral city resenting the sight of people hurrying through the streets to filch a little money from each other, to devour their infamous cookery, to gulp their unwholesome beer, to dream their insignificant and silly dreams. They trespassed upon my thoughts. They were intruders whose knowledge of life was to me an irritating pretence, because I felt so sure they could not possibly know the things I knew. Their bearing, which was simply the bearing of commonplace individuals going about their business in the assurance of perfect safety, was offensive to me like the outrageous flauntings of folly in the face of a danger it is unable to comprehend. I had no particular desire to enlighten them, but I had some difficulty in restraining myself from laughing in their faces so full of stupid importance.''

Heart of Darkness, Joseph Conrad (1902)

The horror! The horror!

The last book I bought in London, the evening before taking my flight, while I was waiting for my last date...

``Anything approaching the change that came over his features I have never seen before, and hope never to see again. Oh, I wasn't touched. I was fascinated. It was as though a veil had been rent. I saw on that ivory face the expression of sombre pride, of ruthless power, of craven terror -- of an intense and hopeless despair. Did he live his life again in every detail of desire, temptation, and surrender during that supreme moment of complete knowledge? He cried in a whisper at some image, at some vision -- he cried out twice, a cry that was no more than a breath:

 `` `The horror! The horror!'