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Women's Day ___ Considerazini dolceamare the eve ...











And we got another 8 March ...


TOMORROW is International Women's Day! And we must celebrate, oh we all representatives of the female sex.



Already ... festecciamo but what?


With what bitterness I have to realize that there would be little to celebrate ... Why
on Google Images when you type things like "women" "woman" and the results are half naked bodies and various other kind of questeo ... Click
controversy is so useless and sterile ... Unfortunately, the reality is still this: the woman is still too often an object, trapped in a variety of stereotypes, none of which really seems to recognize the immensity and variety of the female.



And yet .... However, it is precisely why we must celebrate! For this we need to fill the city of mimosa, pinning to his chest as a brash, cheerful Signal


to reiterate our strength and our energy
to show that we women have
consciousness of who we are and we are proud!

((She wears her make-up onlike graffiti on the walls of the heartland))

colors on our eyes and our faces

for break down the walls of mediocrity

((She is paranoid like endangered species into extinction headed))

attentive to the signs of these subtle attacks

there are people of both sexes seem to want to destroy our uniqueness!

((She is also like an endless war hero for the lost causes))

never stop fighting

to defend our right to live there love dream

((Like a hurricane in the heart of the devastation))

Hurricane dreams and love and strength and hope

we be non-stop to fight

to remind the world how we are valuable

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Angels - Tribute to youth

Angels

I look and I remember

when I was both light and approximate

scrawl

angels angels real shit

kept up with the rope from the sky

Angels musicians and just

sent to school to learn the choirs

Angels farmed

well fed in order to become or sirens

Angels of love and disaffection

same way

heartbreaking

Angels boys overwhelming

sailors

dust in the sun and stars American

not see again

Angels that anger that I do

beautiful from far far

light of stars that came to my hand ....

(Roberto Vecchioni - Angeli)

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Dittatori e dittatorielli

I also like along the streets of Tripoli and Benghazi to look people in the eye, and then let his eyes slide over the crowd. Cheaper by the crowd in a demonstration, dispersed by the terror of shots, holed up in houses through cracks in the windows and listened as the words slip from mouth to mouth and are the words of those who live in that situation on their own skin, who has children and daughters, husbands, fathers and mothers in those squares. Instead, the words I hear, insistent hum of the mosquito, are those of the talks about what is happening ... I wonder what prompted them to say, just scream!, I feel about what they want or, first of all, what they do not want more. I would advise them to be careful to resist interference or aid is not disinterested, move beyond the glow of anger bursts, which gives the floodgates searching out the rebellion in the folds of the skin the courage, the courage that you did not know even the existence ...
I would like the West, which was enriched on their skin, would keep his mouth shut and not to send peacekeepers to guard - like vultures - their despair, paving arms only to show off and crying crocodile tears . We are not faced with barufe chiosote mold Goldoni, we are faced with the effort, but still confused, arrogant and imperious, to seek freedom of a people - the Arab - different customs, religion, history, but has the right to find its own way: with the times and ways that can only be their times and their ways.
As for Gaddafi, yes, dictators and dittatorielli Italy has a certain competence, but it would be the case that was taken care of and worry about what he has at home, before giving lessons in democracy to Libya

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E finalmente pianse

And finally cried all the tears

Swallowing

chilled by the wind,

from fake flies

justified, sometimes

in the cage grudge
tighten

stifled tears in lonely nights

on pillows to freshly laundered

hide weaknesses

never shown

Tears of a woman as gall

love, like travelers in the desert

SPERSE


exploded, as
scream, as
bomb.
Attempt to silence,

force requires that the weakness

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Hamlet - The Bard on the Stage (2)

How can one describe a work the likes of Hamlet?

This is one of the supreme masterpieces of the Bard, as we can review?

The plot is much more complex than you imagine: Hamlet, the melancholy Prince of Denmark, has to carry out the revenge of the late King's father. To kill the king were his wife, Queen Gertrude, Hamlet's mother, and his brother Claudio, who became a lover of the queen, and now sits on the throne. When the ghost of his father reveals to Hamlet the truth, the prince, already dissatisfied with the world and life, sinking into despair, anger and, above all, uncertainty: all the values \u200b\u200bhe believed in seems broken, and Hamlet is found completely alone in its heavy and unpleasant task. Mission that will bring pain, madness and rivers of blood in the royal castle of Elsinore ...

Comment on this masterpiece is difficult: Hamlet is a work full of complex issues, modern, focusing on the folds hidden in the human mind.

Above all, this is a work that not peace: it is made of questions ...

Hamlet is young - that of the prince, frustrated youth, youth atypical because Hamlet has a sadness in your heart, disgust and mistrust, to the world, just an older person, who has already seen too much .

Hamlet is insane. But what the real mad, in Hamlet?

And 'that the prince pretends to be able to act unhindered. Or the fiction itself is a form of madness? But then, we are sure that Hamlet is pretending? We are confident that there is really crazy?

Or maybe the real madness is one in which Ophelia sinks, the real innocent victim of the tragedy.

Hamlet is honor and justice ...

But that justice is one that is wet with blood, which is based on the blood and revenge? What actions are just and legitimate, including those of Claudius or Hamlet?

Hamlet is, finally, courage .... to live or die?

courage to die, of course, to sacrifice to restore justice and order in the court and, more broadly, in the world.

But even dare to live, despite living is evil, despicable, cold, daunting.

courage to live, as Hamlet says to his friend Horatio to tell the truth.

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Sogno o son desta?

Two films, James Cameron's Avatar and Inception by Christopher Nolan, make me think ... Both, despite their obvious differences, they move on the low ridge that separates dream from reality. And what if the dream is not one of the most common - but no less powerful - expressions of the potential of the brain?
He daydreams - we know - but because of the ability to dream experience sinking into sleep, sleep that allows access, when it comes to the world - seems to have dreams, even in the womb - to this intangible but powerful dimension of the fantastic.
I think the dream vision, before the desire, or need, deep and inescapable, man forced into a life punctuated by the alternation of opposites. The soldier at war dreams of peace, healing the sick in the ward and the emotion that keeps alive the dream is the hope. Without the hope that the dream come true, life becomes difficult.
Cinema, dream factory, thanks to a technology more advanced approaches to the most delirious dreams, those in which emotions are unleashed, the physical sensations you esaltani, borders - any border - blow flies and humans, pirouette, dies and is reborn, lifting the veil of the unconscious that allows the dream to explore.
There are no more unexplored lands in the physical world, but what about the brain are the first discoveries, and, just like Christopher Columbus discovered America, we can be sure that it is not India?
Science, Technology and emotions are the trade winds that make us go, the wind, to new horizons, while the acute sensitivity that makes the eye of an artist makes a glimmering prospect of future that is fantastic because it realized, or not feasible?
is certain is that the boundary between real and imaginary, in the wake of a virtual reality more powerful and invasive, becomes unstable giving way to something new ... and unimaginable.
And if it were the real dimension of dreams and everyday life a kind of Kafkaesque nightmare? If instead of treating the sick body medicine in the future by manipulating the brain, lead us into a world where life was thought, lived and not the disease, reduced to disturbing thought, could be removed, expelled from the mind, as well as leaves from his face with a hand gesture a fly inappropriate?
And the young, closer to the future of the elderly in their favor this escape from reality, in this stunning desire to take them over , are the new explorers set off in search of the unknown, or children who are lost The forgetting of touch with reality?

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Tomorrow I'm 18 ...

turns 18 tomorrow ...

very nearly fail to realize: I'm going to really become an adult!

Still, I do not know: Will I never gave much importance to birthdays, or maybe because I just can not imagine how my life will change tomorrow or the next day ... the end, I know it will some 'business as usual.

But ... but they are still an adult! I am a citizen, I can vote and drive a car ... I can also go to jail, but in the end ... this is nice too!

Why I'm starting tomorrow ... IO! I am a person legally and socially active and recognized. And this is ... crazy! Fantastic!

So, come on ... I'm happy to take 18 years! XD

snort of the week:

Lately my nerves were really threatened to blow up, atomic style: it's just been a terrible time at school, chock full of checks. In the end, however, sono contenta, perché così passerò il weekend del mio compleanno senza studiare! ^^

Letture della settimana:

Ultimamente sto rileggendo un sacco Shakespeare: quest'uomo meraviglioso mi aiuta a tornare in equilibrio con il mondo e con me stessa *_*

Immagini della settimana:

Le due a colori che concludono l'ultimo capitolo di Kuroshitsuji 8ç____

*sbav sbav sbav* 8ç

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The Merchant of Venice - The Bard on the Stage (1) artist

Sto rileggendo (forse per la 70.000 volta) Il mercante di Venezia, del mio adorato et venerato William Shakespeare: un'opera succestiva, e piena di sfumature, che secondo me anticipa di secoli e secoli tanto la psicologia quanto la moda degli antieroi oscuri, a cavallo fra Bene e Male ...

La storia è quella di Antonio, ricco mercante veneziano che, per aiutare l'amico Bassiano a corteggiare la ricca e bella Porzia, si fa garante per lui presso Shylock, astuto usuraio ebreo.

Disprezzato ed osteggiato dai cristiani della città, primo fra tutti lo stesso Antoio, Shylock si vendica fissando un'ammenda very unusual if the loan will be paid on time, Antonio will have to pay with a pound of his flesh ...

I could rant for hours about what the style of Shakespeare is magical and sublime, be perfect in every possible situation, so I avoid: I did understand the concept, no? ;)

What fascinated me is the characterization. In this at work, in fact, the Bard puts aside the absolute character, and is concentrated in the paint the protagonists in a more subtle way. No character is therefore neither good nor bad, and above all no one seems to respect its place in society.

Antonio, a merchant and a leading man, does not pay much attention to material goods, and is primarily a fatalist and a melancholic, disillusioned and dissatisfied with the world. To be truly valuable is the friendship, and a dear friend as Bassett does not hesitate to put in play even his body.

And what about Portia, the beautiful damsel surrounded by suitors? Like all women of Shakespeare, reveals an enterprising and a courage that few would associate with her sex.

But most interesting is the character Shylock.

should be the villain par excellence, but it's really difficult to consider that, because Shylock is especially la vittima di una società che lo rifiuta in tutti i modi. Ed il rifiuto è davvero l'elemento che caratterizza la vicenda di Shylock, abbandonato persino dalla figlia Jessica. E' questo insieme di rifiuti che inasprisce il suo carattere. In Antonio vede il perfetto rappresentante di un mondo nel quale non trova posto; per questo lo sceglie come oggetto di vendetta. Come non commuoversi davanti a questo personaggio vessato, ma mai indebolito?

Un ultima considerazione va fatto in merito ad uno dei tanti adattamenti cinematrografici del Mercante, quello del 2004 diretto da Micheal Radford, che vede lo schierarsi di tre attori d'eccezione: nella parte di Bassiano c'è Joseph Fiennes (che in Shakspeare in Love played the Bard himself), we find Jeromy Irons as Antonio and Shylock is played by Al Pacino really superb. These two actors, in particular, give the best, and are also perfect as antagonists, they both convey a great strength of character, perfectly suited to the silent challenge between Antonio and Shylock.

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Non solo bunga, bunga

Where is this country going? It has a direction or are simply turning on itself, waiting? Waiting for what? Maybe take one minute or a day or a year of silence. Clear sound, and open your eyes and then think. Berlusconi finished - and not just recently - is a zombie that history is dragging along: a whale is mortally wounded, surrounded by sharks, which feed voraciously because of his remains still full of himself, his name and of his money, mouth and belly of the political class around him. Excuse to justify not making a living, not to decide, do not take responsibility, thank goodness for Silvio.
Fini e Bocchino, se non dovessero occuparsi di lui, dovrebbero rispondere al Paese asssumendosi la responsabilità del disastro a cui stiamo assistendo, frutto di scelte politiche che hanno pienamente condiviso con il Premier. L'opposizione dovrebbe analizzare le ragioni della sua inconsistenza politica invece di rimarcare il bunga, bunga e la gente, i cittadini, invece di aspettare la nuova puntata della telenovela che ci viene propinata, dovrebbe farsi un esame di coscienza: sulle scelte politiche fatte, sull'astensionismo elettorale, sulla propria inconsistenza civica.
La forza di Berlusconi si è alimentata, ha trovato la linfa per crescere nel Paese che, evidentemente, è cresciuto poco sotto il profilo democratico. Anche negli anni del miracolo economico, del PIL che saliva, gli italici difetti - che tutti conosciamo - mimetizzati dietro a un benessere che aveva steso una pennellata bianca a nascondere le magagne, sono rimasti quelli di sempre, abilmente smascherati da parole, tante, troppe parole gonfie di retorica e false, soprattutto false.
Quanti furono i partigiani? Quanti i politici che si opposero veramente al fascismo, pagando un prezzo personale altissimo, se rapportati ale folle oceaniche stipate nelle piazze ad applaudire il Duce? Quante le persone di sinistra per scelta ideologica e non perchè in certi anni diventò di moda riempirsi la bocca di certe affermazioni?
Di Berlusconi penso ciò che pensai tanti anni fa quando a Milano apparvero written on the sides of buses "Foooza Italy" and curiosity led me to inform me about the character who was behind the initiative, which led to the establishment of a new movement, discovering the first cheating. So no surprise I caught the last performance in front of the Premier, but it is on those who suddenly grasps - today - the limits and the inability of government that I find myself suspicious. I would not want that in a few months is no longer a Berlusconi as fascists disappeared after '45.
Ours is a very skilled people to change their uniform, perhaps because the shelter of a uniform is enough to obey orders, without assuming responsibility? Even though I hope that soon, as quickly as possible, Berlusconi scpmpaia from the political scene, I can not but note with concern that a country different from our policy would have blocked the entry into such a character. Because we did not happen? E 'on these grounds that we should begin to bring clarity, not on Buga, bung it already deals with the Judiciary. And at this point that the responsibility, collective and not a single character, they are difficult to deal with and even painful, but unavoidable in my opinion.

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All red, all red frames

Red is the splendor of living.
(Rudolf Steiner)

When I no longer blue, I put the red.

(Pablo Picasso)

I loved the red:

dove avrei potuto trovare un vermiglio perfetto?

(Paul Gauguin)

Voglio che il rosso abbia una sonorità

come una campana.

(Pierre Auguste Renoir)

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Baudelaire, an alchemist of human feeling

C'è un autore che non mi stancherò mai di leggere né di ammirare: Charles Baudelaire.

This amazing man, that Heaven, God, the One (or his) has delivered horrid world two hundred years ago, was not only a sublime poet ... or acute essayist and enthralling ... or a maverick run away from home to only nineteen years old ...

Baudelaire was above all a keen observer of humanity, and a man who lived humanity, in all senses the best and worst that it entails.

But he was also endowed with incredible, unexpected gifts of alchemist.

Why Baudelaire knew sublimate the horrors and pains more common and human, leading to levels of poems and beautiful pictures, and in the incongruent their extreme nature.

This tendency of the Baudelaire I riscrontata all his writings, but particularly in two ...

The Flowers of Evil are surely the most famous works of Baudelaire, as well as appellitivo which most grants is that of poet.

But Flowers of Evil are not simple combinations of words in rhyme in the poetry of Baudelaire abundance of raw images, coupled with the most passionate invective. The subsoil of the human spirit in Baudelaire emerges with a roar; emerge Death, wounds, dependencies, frustrated desire, all emerge a series of figures "ai margini", dalle prostitute agli accattoni ai pigri gatti al rinnegato Caino.

I Fiori del Male sono un coro di voci discordanti, potenti che nascono direttamente dal nostro inconscio e dai lati oscuri di ognuno di noi. Normalmente, susciterebbero il nostro disgusto.

Fra le parole di Baudelaire, nulla risulta più armonioso e affascinante di questo coro.

I Paradisi Artificiali sono una raccolta di "saggi romanzati" sui temi dell'alcool e delle droghe, vie attraverso le quali l'uomo cerca di sfuggire alla realtà piatta e crudele di tutti i giorni.

Baudelaire parla per esperienza vissuta, ma non fa mai il suo nome: in these essays / stories painted a lot of "anecdotal" stories of anonymous people who have experienced the joys (and the infinite pains) of substances surprising place. One can not help but smile, and almost moved, because in these stories show the solidarity of an author who seems to speak more of himself than others. But above all, one is bewitched by gradiosa Baudelaire's prose, which turns ironic and essayist decided engaging. It 's impossible not to be entranced in front of the descriptions of the artificial states of ecstasy caused by opium or hashish. It is not trying or not these substances, but safely and be led by author and picturesque.

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New books purchased (while waiting for the professor to give you calm down ...)



are officially in crisis, because today I had the nice thought to go to the library with a fat wallet anxious to be emptied ... and now I do not want to do is just read the new books come into my house! (In addition to monthly copy of Rolling Stones)
The problem is that they are in full two weeks of school nightmare, full of checks ... sigh! (All this is deeply unfair

... Not to mention that I have read other books for the study of philosophy, in view of the question ... I find the willpower needed? (I doubt it)



almost at the last minute I discovered the series Classics of free thought in the Corriere della Sera, and this week released two booklets are very different but very related to my interests: first, Second Treatise of Government, John Locke, the which we mentioned in school about the English Glorious Revolution. The second is to Galieleo Galilei Starry Messenger; think, in the previous question of philosophy almost half the class chose as approfondiemento! It might have been complicit in its brevity?

But two other books that they send me in crisis, seriously undermining my commitment to study ...

finally came out Forbidden, Tabitha Suzumi! I had mentioned in the previous post, and now I have cornered a copy today, and I'm dying to read it * _ *

certainly does not help the wonderful review published by LivingForBooks of Yuko, who put me us itch to read it now ... sigh! I have a reason to end up in a hurry to study ^ ^

Another book that tries while resting on my bedside table is the association of blood, Susan Hubbard. This paperback edition economic TEA in a novel already published a few years ago by Bloomsbury Publishing. I was intrigued even then, then I forgot to buy it ... and I did well, because this is the edition paperback, con una copertina anche migliore ^_^

La trama promette una solita storia vampiresca, ma ho fiducia in questo libro soprattutto perché era uscito per la Salani, che finora ha sempre proposto storie solo apparentemente banali ...

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E se appendessimo un lenzuolo o un panno bianco alla finestra...

appendessimo And if a white sheet or cloth at the window? Remember the rainbow flags, flowing on the window sill is visible dissent in the face of our country's participation in the Iraq conflict, and the sheets hung to challenge the mafia? A white brush on cities and towns to indicate the need to turn the page and the desire to start over.
Italy is not all in favor of Prime Minister. Lots of indignant citizens, free tools to express their emotions, make their choices, ask what you can do. Intimidation, now daily, to journalists, television presenters, insults, disdain for women in Parliament calling or occupy seats in municipal councils and regional authorities on the basis of their relationship, say personal with the President, one another spofondando the country in a climate shameful, endangering freedom we thought was acquired.
The majority of the country is with Berlusconi? Polls (their polls) still give them everything and despite winning? And we hang our flags, affacciamoci the windows and see who is our neighbor, we test whether strain our indignation ...
counted!! Maybe they'll find a lot to be tired, being tired of a politics that is unworthy use of power, arrogance and insolence, circus and unpreparedness, political blackmail and theft and lies and fiction.
revolutions you can do with a flower (carnations remember?). Why not with a sheet?

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Pagine dall'inferno

There was a small Christ on the wall of the room. Hung up and crucified, as rightly expected to be a Christ in a hospital. And there was a moon pledged to escape the embrace of the deadly fog that hung over the city. Those were my points of reference: to the moon volarmene away on one of those brooms in hospitals and never miss the Christ to vent my anger on someone, and my despair.

anyone in high places, the Master of Masters ...

Why disease? Death has a way, the tour concludes: birth, growth, reproduction, and then death. But the disease is not logical, especially the condition of the chronically ill is absurd. E ' an 'absurd and profitable inventions and the hospital has its own theater, the temple that houses his chilling performances. Broken into pieces we scrutinized, invaded by cannula, inserted into rotating casings, fast facts, subject to interrogations in which they ask questions, but do not expect answers, you decide fate ... Then
- teaches business administration - will standardize procedures, patients are classified as: those quiet, mangy ones, those who already have a foot in the grave (but no illusions, we can, we must stay alive though apparently dead.) The statistics have to give satisfactory results, the hospital company has to work if nurses - overworked - sometimes wrong medicine, doctors take turns, so each of them knows just something that evaluates the patient according to his own yardstick, and who constantly see is only the bed partner who - as in the trenches - down with the near relations of those who share the same war.

Then there are the diagnosis on which therapy is based. You are suspect - reading your-whether it's another patient, but you look good and say it. Also because it would be useless as the teachers, the category that you are familiar with having been part, doctors are never wrong when it happens and their mistakes if they swallow the earth.

you treat the piece pertaining to them: in my case the brain. And the rest? The stomach hurts, his stomach twisting? The spasms that haunt you? Does not concern them, are not gastroenterologists and your condition does not include spasms of this magnitude. Stains such as urticaria? "On his return home to go to a dermatologist," and "move, not s'impigrisca" and while trying to explain that you do not stand up have already left the room as fast as elves, and you fell back on your bed of pain and look at Christ and if you think the laugh, knowing that cast out the merchants from the temple would no longer make sense because the merchants and their temples have conquered the world. Now.

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Boh! Forse non ho capito? Possibile, ma improbabile

"Good, very good ..." and le gambe sollevate a fatica ripiombano sul letto. L'ottimismo è d'obbligo: il malato deve migliorare. Se non si scoprono le cause della sintomatologia, l'importante è sedare i dolori. La prima volta che ti vedranno in piedi, magari arpionata a un deambulatore, arriverà un altro "brava" (alle foche al circo  almeno un pesce per gratificarle, a me nemmeno un cioccolatino). Intanto prelievi ti dissanguano, mostri d'acciaio ti accolgono nel loro ventre infilata come una sardina nella bocca di uno squalo. La macchina ti scruta nel cervello.
Poi sfilze di dati misteriosi che non sembrano precludere ancora al rimbambimento totale. Qualche neurone solitario e un po' smarrito circola ancora. Aghi nei polpacci, volti meditabondi, tumor markers draw attention: one is high, but descriptive treats is false. What does this mean? Should not worry, but m'inquieta.
Do not worry: there are batteries that turn the concern of psychotropic drugs in Ridarolo or dotage. Where have all the data (or those deemed essential) the income does not come back: the identity takes over and the diagnosis is hard to establish: a tap me the gift of a general lowering of mood that treated with a drug-based Ser / control unit despite the implicit promise of serenity in that prefix ser me to find after a few minutes grappling with an EKG because my heart did not like. Applications irritate doctors, the source of the terrible attacks cramp is unknown but are stabilizing in time and recurring patterns. Was depressed at fixed hours? Two to three? Think it's a battuttacccia but is made in all innocence. The important
would reactivate the muscles. It would take a physiatrist, but does not arrive. Be consulting him after leaving hospital. Some tests are missing, waiting to report, but time is running out and my bed waiting for another patient. They greet me smiling, my next bed watching me bend over for yet another attack by those who have made me stay overnight. No comment, as I have done I saw his neighbor, who had preceded it, get bent at an acute angle, bent out ad angolo retto.
Boh! Forse non ho capito. Pochi neuroni? Possibile, ma improbabile.

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Tabitha Suzumi - Forbidden

Keira di The Book Lover ha appena postato una bella antiprima fresca sul nuovo romanzo young adult che verrà pubblica da Mondadori - ed io accolgo l'incitamento a parlarne, perché the author of this novel is to watch ...

How can something so wrong make you so happy?

So reads the sentence on the cover of Forbidden , Tabitha Suzumi novel, due out for the series Shout (Knopf) the January 25.

The protagonists of the story are Maya and Lochan, two brothers separated by a year apart and connected by a dysfunctional family which find themselves looked after, despite his young age. But to combine these two teenagers is something else: a deep complicity, ready to be transformed into a feeling so true extent prohibited and "peccaminso ...

short, it is certainly not an ordinary children's book, it boldly tackles a serious subject and issues such as incest. True love may be enough alone to make "right" in a relationship?

Tabitha Suzumi, author of London, the Japanese father's side, is not new to strong arguments. If you visit her beautiful website ( http://www.tabithasuzuma.com/ ) you will notice that the plots of his books are full of original and profound themes, books that have won many prizes!

For myself, I Forbidden already dug up Interner, and will wait impatiently for the time to read it. Not all authors find the courage to take full advantage of the freedom given by the writing, and talk about issues so difficult: I can not wait to enjoy this book! ^ _ ^

___________________________________________________________

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Disasters school and a new author to watch

Today I witnessed the construction of a crossbow.

No, I'm not kidding: When hours of mathematics, a friend of mine has built a small leaf craft, using pens, pencils, Scoca and a clothes peg! O___O

... Do not judge! ... how do you know that is not a new Einstain (shortening, I know, we're probably only fancazzisti great, but ...

You can not even give us wrong ... I mean .... the names of the trigonometric functions appear to be fatal diseases! you like a human thing called prostaferesi?! X___X

Cooomunque, this little half sclero half intro I need to introduce the next in which talk of a forthcoming book, Forbidden, Tabitha Suzumi , author convient that we keep an eye on ...

Why I wrote this post?

Well, but come on ... crossbow deserved a place of respect, nee? XD

Phrase of the Day:

The ambition is not damnable, or to dishonor the ambitious appetite has to have co glory 'means honest and honorable . (G.)

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Rilke - The night and the soul

In the lap of the snowy night, silver,

immense stretches sleeping, everything.

Only an eternal suffering is awake

inside my soul.

And I wonder why he is silent

my soul, without spilling on her lap

who dreams at night?

Colma me, all Traboch

to put out the stars.

[Rainer Maria Rilke - The night and the soul]

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Two short readings that fill your heart with rage + = Rime Moments of happiness negligible

This creature so supremely pucciosa is the common wombat, an Australian marsupial that is facing extinction. Geo & Geo gli ha dedicato, ieri sera, un documentario che me ne ha fatto innamorare. Non si potrebbe mettere una taglia sui cacciatori di frodo, nee? XO


D'accordo, sto parlano di vombati per non pensare che le vacanze stanno per finire X___X
comunque, oggi voglio parlare di due libri piccoli ma splendidi, che mi hanno accompagnato in questo ultime ore di relax ...


Il primo libro del quale voglio parlare è Rime di rabbia, di Bruno Tognolini, edito Salani.

Intravisto mesi fa, e ritrovato oggi in biblioteca, l'ho letto in macchina (tranquilli, guidava mio padre! XD) in mezz'ora circa. E' un sottilissimo libricino di nemmeno 8O pagine - ma sprigiona una forza primordial and unstoppable. The rhymes are poems flavor infant, child, but for this they are able to capture the essence of a common emotion like anger - that may seem a weakness, but in reality are a great force that must be channeled into the right way.




* * * The second book of which I speak is negligible Moments of happiness, Francesco Piccolo, published by Einaudi.

Here we are talking about a reading that you can pocket more. But in the few pages of this book the author manages to condense a flood of emotions, a stream of consciousness - a list of many funny and messy, little moments that color our days. How many moments as insignificant, and instead are the ones that fill us with unexpected happiness? A smile, a bike ride, the smell of a book, seemingly mundane sentences ...
A small tribute to the miracle of everyday life.