Category: Passato


5280

È da una vita che non scrivo….ed adesso dopo non so quanto tempo….

Insomma, normalmente i personaggi che descrivevo quando effettivamente pubblicavo storie erano tutti di sana pianta inventati…raramente associavo un volto reale ad essi.

Ma adesso sta succedendo qualcosa di effettivamente incredibile.

Ho cambiato lavoro da quasi un anno e, nonostante i primi mesi di gavetta ossessiva e turni al di là dell’immaginabile (solo ieri 9 ore, senza pausa) mi trovo effettivamente a mio agio anche se ho a che fare con un quantitativo di gente spaventoso.

Ebbene…sono due settimane che capita questo…

Entra sempre un uomo sulla quarantina avanzata, vestito in completo, alto e dinoccolato ma non eccessivamente magro, silenzioso, dall’aspetto benestante ma soprattutto intelligente ed occhialuto.

Fin qui niente di che davvero, ce ne sono a migliaia.

A parte due particolari…a cui subito non ho fatto caso nonostante il mio istinto mi dicesse di guardarlo meglio.

Capelli biondo chiaro e occhi neri.

Biondo platino vero, non tinti.

Ieri mi è deragliato il cervello con tanto di tachicardia.

Linds Lagden.

Omeddeus il topo.

Ho fatto una fatica incredibile a non fissarlo per tutto il tempo che è rimasto ad attendere il pargolo.

O sto impazzendo, o dopo 8 ore di turno la vista inizia a cedermi….era una vita che non pensavo a Steps.

Ma dentro ero così 😳🤯😱🤔🤣

Aspetto la Hervas adesso 😆

Pubblicità

5233

5220

pexels-photo-1578105.jpeg

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

I shall

For I have no choice

Always watched, swathed in Grandma’s

Warm worn hands wrapped on my youthful face

Cold wrinkly fingers in my hand over the cotton of her last bed.

The guardian angel over my shoulder taking me to paths unknown,

paths never asked for because I never thought I was worthy of them,

I know you did put him in my way, for that I smile

Even happy I would still like you back

He’s the perfect mirror, same yet totally different.

Swimmingly good is the boat ride, very surprising.

Summer day is one smile, coldest of winter the nights spent embraced.

Very strange but needed is being apart, like having freedom to breathe in and expel.

Clarity of mind, thoughtfulness, worry, affection.

Things much truer now than before.

This in my life is something that sings a tune always emulated maybe, but never truly wanted.

A change of heart, a gust of wind, snowflake, icy air.

I shall love you, for you have given me no choice.

Humming away while someone among the stars smiles softly.

Forget-me-not.

And then…who are you to disturb the waters?

Shadows in the summer while you bathe in the sun.

So much has changed in a year, I can barely wrap my head around it.

A late afternoon, a medium climb at steady speed.

Sadness underlying my breath.

Hot asphalt, blue July sky.

Thirst for water and there you were.

I didn’t want to talk so I didn’t stop…I have to give you  praise you just wanted to (smile)

And from there to now.

What the hell, I don’t trust your knowing instincts so far in time…

Still time is a strange thing.

Time took me here with you, without her and without him.

A place I don’t know in the sun.

It burns, fiend.

I’m still waiting for the end while the road goes ever on under the sun.

5182

Maybe it doesn't look like it from the outside.
But I have opinions, ethics and morals...yes, morals!

And I am a fucking INTJ, I rarely judge even if I don't like it.

But when you splurge disgusting anecdotes I hear them and my opinion of you lowers.
To say I'm displeased right now is awfully on the lighter side.
I'm enraged with myself, for not seeing before.

Still, while thinking what to do (and the solutions were two, oh dear) I decided to continue, to see if I'm really wrong.
The doubt of doubting, a last hope against hope.
Intuition is strong but in this case I need confirmation.

The thing is...I already woke up saturday night, I have no pink lenses on thanks to you.
Today I'll see you again for what you really are.
Judging is strong.

I'm not scared.
I know my shortcomings but there are things in life I'll never bend to or close my eyes on.

Once I did and that was a disaster of epic proportions.
My guts that time told me, repeatedly.
I won't make that mistake again.

Watch and hear while the moon gets paper thin…
Another year passed and your wish sings like a deep bell.
Forgot. Unfound.
Mirror yourself in the ice.
Breathe silver, pay your debts, laugh softly in the end.
Remember your name.

You remember what happened some weeks ago?
Well I just had the pleasure of discover why was that….

Psoriasi di Gilbert

And while it’s nothing really life threatening it’s humiliating.

Before me there are 2 months of walking around with things and red blotches on my skin that look like someone splattered me with paint…

Well at least it’s not itching yet.

God hates me and it’s not a surprise! 😠😭

I am on part bedrest…and I can enjoy learning something new….namely hairdos vaguely Edwardian….(yes my hair is long again)

Guess someone is back from the woods…at least tonight…

Hi Hermes! Long time no see! 😁

You sure you still know how to use a keyboard? 🤔

No sanity can substitute the void.

You shall be the kicked up dust, blood under my feet.

Ills almost forgotten now redempted.

Sun melts eyes, thunder leaves scars.

My shell will harden still, life goes on.

Something ends.

Something begins.

Get up and sing along to the chorus of madness lest it devours you.

Goodbye Grandma, you’re not scared anymore.

Songbirds….!

I’ll kill to hear her live…

The world has always been a beautiful ever-changing place to live…and also an encompassing womb of stupidity.

You can ignore it, comment on it or hang your poorly worded conclusions to dry out where all and sundry can see.

I’ve read three pages of rant and I see only thoughts with no colours involved or racism.

Contralto darling you are the truest voice yourself for I understand.

I happen to be a total control freak but I’m also submissive and there are moments where all I want is the man and all his problems, awfully sad as they may be.

I love my way of life and there is no caste, tagging or mistreating from others that could make me change my mind.

We – women or men – are all different, we see life with different eyes but we like to group together over something.

The moment you unite to beat a fellow is the moment your movement is dead.

Don’t mind them, really, their voice will die soon enough but truth remains.

No-one has the right to write a rulebook on how to love or to feel.

Be the way you want to, Lana! 🌹

4856

A volte mi viene ancora una voglia matta di scrivere…

È stata una abitudine per vent’anni della mia vita (sì, sono matusa e sì, ho iniziato prestissimo), non ci pensavo nemmeno coscientemente.

Avevo immagini nella testa che dovevo mettere nero su bianco. Dare forma, suoni e volti.

Trovare la logica in universi paralleli, parlare altre lingue, conoscere personaggi che facevano parte di me eppure non erano me.

Ora?

Ora niente.

Invece il problema rimane.

Vorrei disperatamente scrivere – avere un’uscita di emergenza – ma ho il deserto nella testa.

Lavoro troppo da tre anni a questa parte e quando non lavoro l’unica cosa che faccio è dormire.

All’inizio avevo deciso di smettere l’attività scribana proprio per la mancanza di idee intelligenti…speravo che con lo stop sarebbe cambiato qualcosa.

Invece no.

Silenzio visivo.

Hermes, where did you go?

Nowhere, everywhere, somewhere you won’t find me.

You deserted me.

You wanted me gone.

I am gone.

4837

Pensavo di aver chiuso con te.

Non avevo tenuto in considerazione i nostri caratteracci che non ci permettono di mollare.

Vorrei essere capace di gettare la spugna come quando ero sbarbatella e amante dell’impossibile.

In realtà ormai sono un’animale da scrivania: puntuale da mal di pancia e professionale come un ghiacciolo. Non ci penso nemmeno a nascondermi solo per evitare te.

E tu che cogli la palla al balzo e cerchi di parlarmi, poi mi inviti a cena…

Ti, ti ho detto di no.

Ma non saprai mai perdere tu.

Quindi continui a cercarmi e maledizione, sarei un’idiota se dicessi che non mi manchi.

Ma sarei ancora più imbecille se credessi alla tua versione dei fatti.

Già mi stupisce che non ce l’hai attaccata addosso 24/7…eppure mi pareva ti piacesse…bah…

Stasera sono sopravvissuta, domani chi lo sa?

Tomorrow is another day.

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