Tag Archive: aeons past


4650

You no more than road under my wings

Yet more than every minute spent

Battling over dreams never dreamed

Men never loved

Thoughts and actions never put to fruition

Theater words made for tragedies and stories of woe

Far away in the decades

I spent learning

we are not mirrors

but black holes made to devour

and waiting to implode

You still more than every length I walked.

Annunci

Sometimes the past labeled ‘Hate’ comes back.
It’s like pushing the trigger of a gun.
The bullet is released and the sound of the shot just cracks in the still air.

For me it can only come back with songs, now.
It’s a good thing ‘cause I control pretty much anything I hear these days for technology is wonder.
Today I wasn’t that lucky and I hate when it happens.

For it’s just songs, not even that good for my tastes, never really liked but still kept in an old music archive.
It was barely 40 minutes – now agony – you said you liked.
Pop, hardly meaning anything profound.

Today it just went straight to my head,
with all those months thinking anything but rationally.
All those years mourning practically nothing.
Me, my cups and the fucking hope.
The sinister glint in my eyes under a canopy of trees long forgotten.
I truly hated for I wasn’t myself.
Search, find and destroy.

———————————-

I thank daily every deity for I am still here on this Earth.
For I find I’m not bitter if my triggers stay unreleased.
For if I have known ‘hate’ I did bid it goodbye a long time ago.
I never searched for you, never I will.
I don’t care anymore and in a way it amuses me how needs and feelings can change.
Life.
Sometimes I feel a little blue, I write/work all night (Yes, I write, I still do that!), Consume my poor Chevrolet darling, find the time to nurture and watch my orchids flourish.
Bright colours, fluorescent skies, rolling hills in pale green, the ticking of my bike going down at full speed.
The sounds of morning, sun on my windshield.
It feels like change.
I do have changed in ways I doubt you would understand.
For I love, I share and I try to help.
The past made me what I am.
And it won’t return.

4325

There was a ring I never took off when I was no more than a teen girl.
It wasn’t valuable, found it dirty and dusty at the end of a drawer in a long before abandoned house.
It missed a little tiny diamond on its cast and it was so tiny in size I could only wear it on my left ring finger.
The center stone was a smoothed out ruby with a square shape.
But the beauty in it was not the stones.
It was in the fine work on the silver.
The thin veneers running along the sides in fragile, intricate leaves that could only be made by hand and with skill.
I never seen since a work like that ever.
It fitted my finger to the point I thought it was made for me and me alone.
It was probably just a cheap trinket bought at a fair or something like that in the time when my grandmother was just a young girl.
She’s 96 now, I’m 30 and the ring is still with me.
Worthless and consumed, but the silver still shines and fits somewhat.
The leaves are still there and they mean a world never gone to me.
Afternoons and evenings, card games and teas, red roses and blue hydrangeas.

You have forgotten, Gran.
I did not.
You can’t remember.
I shall do it for you for all the time I’m still given on this Earth.

tea-party-sharing-tea-with-grandma-1936-mike-savad

[coloured photo by Mike Savad]
[https://pixels.com/featured/tea-party-sharing-tea-with-grandma-1936-mike-savad.html]

Forse non lo sapete ma ho passato buona parte dei miei ultimi anni teen a leggere Hellsing e guardare gli OAV Ultimate…

Beh…avete mai sentito parlare della versione Abridged del Team Four Star? xD

NOTA: QUESTO MATERIALE è PER PERSONE MAGGIORENNI E DEVE ESSERE INTESO COME PARODIA DELLA SERIE ORIGINALE. RIPETO, ADULTI E CON UN MINIMO DI TOMBSTONE DRY HUMOUR, THANK YOU!!! ❤

Stavo dicendo…un team ha renderizzato da ogni episodio dei piccoli ‘Abridged’ (14 / 20 minuti e più a seconda) dall’Ultimate di Hellsing che già di suo non è proprio all’acqua di rose…

Avevo perso di vista il team TFS e per caso li ho ritrovati ed hanno completato la serie!!!

In questa Lunch hour giuro che mi sono sganasciata dalle risate! Da sentire con cuffiette religiosamente inserite, mi raccomando!!! xD

Questo non è il genere di content che posto normalmente su questo blog ma non potevo non farlo…LoL

Fans Hellsing uniamoci e facciamoci due risate al linguaggio anglofono estremamente scurrile e spiritoso LoL

dalla descrizione sul loro canale Youtube:

This Hellsing Ultimate Parody chronicles the tale of the Vampire Alucard in his quest to eliminate rogue undead, go on enthusiastic walks, torment the Pope, and kill Nazis. There’s plenty of blood, guns, and big titties, so jump on in and enjoy the ride!

Trovate la playlist sotto il cut…have fun!

Continua a leggere

Cartoline.
Lettere d’amore rimaste nel cassetto.
Lettere d’amore spedite e mai ricevute.
Secretaires.
Brooches.
Cofanetti degni di una regina.
Spazzole e specchi istoriati in argento.
Stole di pelliccia e scialli da gran dama.
Specchi rococò e porcellane inglesi.
Fluté di vetro radioattivo.
Gioielli da lutto.
Bigiotteria da sera.
Statue di giada verde o quarzo.
Applique decò in alabastro e lampade Tiffany.
Carillon che tintinnano melanconia di tempi andati.
Danzatrici esotiche nere e oro.
Servizi da tè che suonano alla brezza e spighe di grano in vetro fine come un capello.
Proiettori di inizio secolo.
Sedie in genuino stile impero.
Calcolatrici a leva.
Grammofoni a matrice di cera.
Tappeti persiani e settee vittoriani.
Pantere a grandezza naturale con occhi che ti seguono e fauci spalancate.
Fotografie osè d’inizio ‘900 e pin-up queens che ammiccano.
Pleniluni in soffitti di nero velluto.
Tiare di diamanti falsi.
Dagherrotipi immusoniti.
Bambole di porcellana e vestiti di seta.
Giochi in latta e cavalli a dondolo.
Cammei di donna e medaglioni d’argento con dediche di persone che non ci sono più…
Raccolte di vecchi short films muti dai dieci ai trenta secondi.
Orologi da panciotto fermi e pendoli che rintoccano alla Winchester mentre Ti fischietta il motivetto con il sigaro fra le labbra.
E fra le mie mani l’ultimo foglio di una lettera…

È tardi, la strada sotto alla mia finestra si fa più silenziosa ancora.
Poso la penna ora ma prima di coricarmi il pensiero si alzerà in volo verso i pochi giorni che abbiamo passato insieme. Perduti nel sole, e nei frutti di un’estate nel quale ci siamo conosciuti ed uniti.
Ci ritroveremo, mia amata Claudia, di ciò non dubitare.
Il tuo più umile servo,
Stefano

Certe volte sento il tempo…un po’ come in questi ultimi 4 giorni fra Settembre e Ottobre…

Divento schiva in estremo bisogno di un silenzio assoluto.

Del movimento ritmico delle mie gambe sui pedali della mountain bike e del mio respiro che inizia a bruciarmi nella gola a causa del primo freddo.

Le gambe che sembrano non reggermi e tremano per lo sforzo, lo sforzo della mia testardaggine perché *porco cane* io non mollo mai.

Il sole che si nasconde sopra il mio capo dietro un mare d’umidità.

Ancora un po’ e poi…inverno, tetti bianchi di brina ed il cielo che diventa lo specchio, ancora una volta.

Ti questo mio bisogno di aria credo che lo comprenda solo in parte.

Vorrebbe venire con me nelle mie sortite su due ruote, riuscirebbe anche a starmi dietro ma…

…ci sono cose che preferisco fare da sola.

…pensieri che in un determinato periodo dell’anno germogliano avvelenando l’aria che ho intorno.

…momenti in cui dai miei soliti 20 l’ora passo ai 35 e la strada brucia sotto di me.

Ti oggi mi ha tenuto il muso, io gli ho sorriso.

Non tutto può essere perfetto in Paradise.

Domani è un altro giorno.

Ed Ottobre è arrivato.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.
– Robert Frost

2200

I used to be a strange child.

In the summers I looked at the landscape under the scorching sun from the shadows.

In winter I read endless books about beautiful days, my feet tucked between the bed and the heater to stave off the cold. Often I was bored to tears by the longest talks between brothers and sisters on Sundays.

Spring was just a glimmer of dry cerulean sky.

Autumn was the time of the year I never step foot out due to the rain so I read, there was little else to be done.

Always secluded in a big quadrilater of green grass, closed by tall walls and a heavy iron gate. I rarely played with someone ‘cause they were no other children my age and I was forbidden to go out.

I read several hours a day, and I dreamed vivid dreams.

I never felt alone in my world.

I actually started to see other children only at five years old and my seclusion showed: I was not capable of instaurate friendships, I did not understand a inch of what the other children thought (and I came to the conclusion pretty soon that children my age did not think at all)

I was an introvert to the highest degree.

So I became an extrovert to not feel different and that’s what caused the “Tendencies to be a leader” note of the teachers in first grade. The leader was not me, but I could act pretty well the role for five hours a day.

Still I never really connected with people my age, it was a rarity to invite someone home or go play with other children.

Sometimes when someone came to my house to play I had to put a straight face and play with them but after a while I just stopped to be responsive and dismissed them to their own world, bored to death.

This cycle never really stopped I just ceased the extrovert persona at twelve when I understood there was no point in stressing.

I was different, end of story.

I loathe to have friendships now. They never did me any good or be useful in any way.

The only real delight to me is putting my thoughts on paper with the clarity of silence.

A pleasure greater than this I honestly still don’t know.

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