Archive for settembre, 2019


Sunday afternoon, drinking tea with Grandma Flora (my namesake!)…

A cup older than me, all baroque, made of chalk.

Sky not bluer than our eyes.

Family with three generations of blue eyes.

Home not really home anymore, still and warm.

Afternoon in amber and silence.

Peace and sighs.

Strings of dialogue unimaginable, loving her more than myself.

Annunci

4700

Ho appena scoperto che smanettando un po’ (leggasi PARECCHIO) The sims 2 gira su Win10…forse…

Mi mancano alcuni file per mandarlo sotto torchio sul serio in test ma promette qualcosa di decente questo programma del 2004!!!

YAY!

Lutto

Sono qui che penno questo dolore immenso

La mia MOBO MSI con XP dopo 15 anni di puro ed onorato servizio ha dato l’ultimo addio ieri mattina e sono ufficialmente senza PC da battaglia.

La grafica è in stallo fino a data di destinarsi come anche le mie maratone visive/audio ed i gameplay sims2…fortuna che ho un disco WD corazzato e non sono tanto preoccupata per i miei dati… (per ora non ho ancora fatto copia però…acc!)

Temo che dovrò dire addio ad XP…mannaggia!!!

Per rifare il computerino voglio rimanere con MSI perché la qualità audio….!!! ma i prezzi per le MOBO da gaming sono a dir poco AHHHHHHH!!!!

Disperata!!!

Update!

Undoing Time is complete!

Nights like tonight are not made.

They are born while I plow through with the Chevrolet Darling.

It’s already a few weeks I’m having this sort of melancholy.

Crawling back from a far away place inside the folds of my brain.

Reading novels written for illiterates no doubt.

Stream of thought greys, ocras and dark greens.

Films for depraved made in lead, mud, chalk and diamonds.

Music resembling the shout of a beast slaughtered, warhowler heartbreaker.

I have been forged in darkness, and never feared it.

When you fear, you push away.

You don’t actually see what you fear.

Truth is: bathing in the sun for too long can bruise you.

Sight and sound black as your eyes.

Dead this night.

For I can’t bear them alive.

Music. Sound. Machine running the miles.

I don’t remember anymore the nightbirds, the endless typing, the epic journeys made with fog fanning out.

I know who I am.

I don’t know who I was, who you thought about in the dead of the night when all was said and done.

I feel just the endless road built and destroyed where my children are resting.

For I had many children, wouldn’t you know.

They were the most fair: dark eyes, dark hair, white teeth gleaming in warning for mother sleeps soundly and needs not to be disturbed.

Still my car is running in the dead of the night.

Past gas services, past lives and deaths, past people and creatures made from a faulty deity who forgets and never really forgives me for my sins.

And thus the guitar sounds like the end of a world born in the dark.

And the clear tenor screeches notes of ireFire.

Been dazed and confused for so long it’s not true…[…]
Don’t know where you’re goin’
Only know just where you’ve been

I always collected satin ribbons.

I don’t know why I do it but now I find a rainbow made of every hue and I understand.

Some ribbons I have tied after I met you.

They are the most beautiful of all.

Still the colours of life.

Still in a dream.

Still there to remind me.

Like unsaid words into seasons and years.

Single days in bliss.

Those I will remember today. 🌻🌼🍁🌾🌄

Il primo sabato del mese di Settembre.
San Grato e la fine dell’estate.

Il frastuono delle voci sul soffitto alto dell’oratorio.

La vita che gira perpetua ancora…

Presto tutto questo rimarrà solo dentro la mia testa…nel silenzio.

Mentre pellicole strane, a tratti cliniche a tratti ironiche mi passano davanti…fra nuvole di fumo e quartieri cinesi.

Saigon e Lussello.

Antipodi e vicini di casa.

Come with me underwater.

And die to despise me no more.

4674

Sono due settimane che lavoro ininterrottamente.

Non mi stupisce dopo sei mesi che ci do dentro per riuscire a fare soldi e finalmente lo smaronamento sta dando i suoi frutti perché la gente è tornata a casa dalle ferie.

Ferie che io non ho fatto, se non contiamo sette giorni divisi in due riprese.

Totale a tre zeri in due settimane di Ka-ching!

Dovrei essere euforica.

Invece no.

Sono stanca e poco felice.

Sta a vedere che cambio lavoro…

CHECK HER OUT!!!

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Avete presente quegli scomodi abiti vittoriani? Quelli con la gonna che strascica un po' per terra, gonfiata sul di dietro dalla tournure? Quelli con i corsetti strettissimi e i colletti alti che solleticano il collo? Ecco. Io non vorrei indossare altro.

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