Tag Archive: Art Deco middle aged bastard


4859

I hate him.
No, you don’t get it…
I hate him.
I’m talking about Ti, obviously.
After a 3 week long reprieve where I didn’t hear a peep from him or saw him…boom…
Dressed to the nines, sleek and a look that could cut my dress in ribbons.
Eyes cold and no emotions apart from a little smile that actually set my blood to boiling point in five sec.
It’s a miracle I kept my cool for the entirety of the evening, I don’t even know how I didn’t jump his bones.
Past all that happened I missed him, I have to admit it and my fetish for well cut suits is NOT helping.
And me…and my belief he was done with his shenanigans…
He asked me to dinner on Friday.
I said yes.
Shit…

I am a young woman, I couldn’t resist! (How many more times Plant’s quote…)

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.

Tu che non ti arrendi, nemmeno dopo quasi un mese.

Io che ti metto nella black list e quotidianamente vado a leggere le mail che mi scrivi.

La chevrolet darling mogia in garage.

Non riesco a bloccare l’immagine di quella notte e mi viene da piangere.

There’s no hate, painting the life I could have lived and now you share with her.

You wanted this, I don’t understand why you still lie to me.

Merry Xmas & get the fuck out.

4783

2019/11/29

Water everywhere

Car skipping on the road

You in my mind.

Apparently there are things I won’t believe until I smack my nose on them.

I’m not angry for what I’ve seen.

It doesn’t fade, it only gets more vivid.

Long lost sisters

Pity and pain.

4791

Mi sento molto sola.

Ecco l’ho scritto.

Non è tanto intorno a me, quanto dentro.

Una sensazione di deserto a livello di pensieri, idee e cime da raggiungere.

Un ossimoro quando in realtà non sto per niente male.

I problemi della mia amata Chevrolet darling risolti, mai sentita ringhiare così.

Il desktop ritornato in vita, grazie ad un attento esame della babele di cavi che aveva dentro, non ha mai girato meglio d’adesso.

Grandi kaching! futuri assicurati grazie al mio occhio.

Io che, al mio solito, faccio l’autodidatta e riesco al primo colpo.

Forse è questo il punto, tutto dimostra di andare bene.

 

Ma niente è più come prima.

L’equilibrio si rompe, il disco si inclina, cade a terra e la musica si ferma.

Questa settimana compio 31 anni e non ho voglia di vedere anima viva.

Non desidero spiccicare parola.

Non voglio andare da nessuna parte.

Nemmeno per vedere te.

 

Ed il fatto che cerco rifugio in cose, suoni e storie concluse non risolve nulla.

Fa buio e freddo.

Un giorno rivedrò qualche stella probabilmente.

Ma non subito.

You know.

Every road, raindrop, curve.

My memory cristal clear, glasspane between now and then.

Eidetic, electric.

The engine still running, my queen Chevrolet bee.

Too long a distance between.

Still there depths and pillars, altar of love lost and found.

Rekindled flame, rain never ending turnin to snow.

I remember you, silence and smile and impossible things before dawn.

The clock, the sounds, digits and limbs.

Here in my car, pitch black on a road that lead nowhere until…

The day I met you.

I can’t describe the change…but I can write down the start of the end.

Can I?

The road always goes on, and delivers.

You just have to travel and never stop.

You’ll be tired and you’ll be wishing many things left behind you.

Regret them not.

All you need is within yourself until the engine groans.

Rain pouring.

Silence black in the alley.

Cold set of keys in your hand.

Flat deserted of light.

Quiet steps, breath held.

Bed of giants, rocks of dwarves.

Man sleeps while my mind rambles of ends and means.

Soft breaths, solid warmth.

Cinder and soot.

4757

I can’t write anymore

I can’t read anymore.

Life devoid.

Your hand in mine.

Little flame.

Tiny speck.

Aurora borealis

Why you make me work so hard
When you know that all I want
Is to make your money grow?
You’re like a baby
Who don’t got nowhere to go
I feel you eyeing me
You keep it on the low

But I can’t let you in
And I can’t keep you out
I wait for life to end
But it never comes around
And I can’t hear you call
And I can’t hear me shout

I wait for it to break
But it never comes around

And I’m lonely
Feeling like I’m falling apart

E queste notti.

Dalle 9 a chissà che ora del primo mattino.

Take out a lato del notebook, tu che mi racconti qualsiasi ed ogni possibile cosa che possa farmi ridere come una matta e farmi andare la Cola su per il naso.

I tuoi occhi che mi sorridono mentre lavoriamo al tavolo.

La sigaretta che fila fumo nella stessa mano che ha guidato la chevrolet darling.

Potrei ferire per non perdere queste notti, Ti.

Eppure…

Fräulein, did you think about that job?

Yeah. I am actually.

Oh…

And you say nothing else.

There are things I want to say to you but I’ll just let you live. [LDR-NFR!]

The mood I get when lackin sleep.

The thoughts I’m having out of the blue.

My legs hurtin’ going up roads that I knew so well.

Working something new, scared shitless.

I need new roads to travel even if I don’t like to stray.

At this rate Christmas will only be a day of December in the calendar.

A new project, no more writing nights.

Seeing Ti less, not really caring much.

Still…

I like to drive for long hours.

Alone.

There’s freedom in the curves and bumps of the road.

I don’t mind driving in the rain as long as it is not near hurricane strength. The chevrolet darling can take well even flooded streets and windshields stay clear under buckets of water.

She (she, not it) is a big american well made elephant and gives me a ton of security (and horsepower ! 😅)

I love to drive her in the night as I put in high wattage lamps for the long headlights.

And – following some much needed advice – with some help I finally had precision wheel camber made on her.

It’s already a few months actually and man if she runs now, no need for extra throttle anywhere, sometimes she’s almost scary downhill and uphill the acceleration is just out of this world.😅

Even the autonomy has improved to the point I see the change in the odometer.

I’m in love with my car and I’ve gotta a feel for my automobile (sorry for the word plagiarism Taylor darling! 😘)

Thing is Ti hates her.

Truly hates her.

With a passion.

All of her awesome wholeness and horsepower.

We had discussions over her.

Not very friendly discussions a couple of times (mainly when the gas pump broke and the year before the ignition coil just left me stranded in the middle of nowhere up a fucking hill).

But I’m not budging.

Chevy darling is my big baby and he can walk on foot for all I care.

Or take one of his damned trains (we’ve had discussions about them yes!)

I never liked trains, I always thought of them as dangerous steeltraps, secured to not very secured supports.

Sometimes when I know his train just arrived at destination I text him on purpose or I watch for delays on the news…

I’m scared shitless by trains for you are seated with no control over it and I never had much faith in people in general.

But you cannot ignore the engine gaining force, the wind cut by her shape starting an aerodynamical vortex, the high speed steering control disabled to better feel the curve (this is quite dangerous, don’t try it if you don’t know what you’re doing!!!).

I have faith in controllable machines.

I have faith in the Chevrolet darling maybe more than I should.

Cars don’t talk back they’re just four wheeled friends now
When I’m holding your wheel
All I hear is your gear
When I’m cruisin’ in overdrive
Don’t have to listen to no run of the mill talk jive

 

Whirlwind you are, shaking my old leaves

I watch you through the day, silent.

in the early mornings, while you still sleep.

I watch you and think many thoughts, more or less difficult.

I watch you when you drive us away to someplace else in this little holiday taken.

I don’t think I’ll ever tire out.

Colours extravagant and the sharp perfume of lavender.

The cadence of your voice in another tongue.

Earth blood red, diffusing its colour to light brown.

But the sky is down under my feet, the height of my waist.

Blue lavender, as far as I can see.

A sky made of flowers that sways in the evening as the sun leaves us in the shade and the perfume gets sharper.

Ecco fiori per voi:
lavanda fragrante, menta, santoreggia, maggiorana,
il fiorrancio, che va a letto col sole
e con lui s’alza, piangendo: questi son fiori
di mezza estate, e io penso che si diano
a uomini di mezza età.
(William Shakespeare)

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