Tag Archive: chevrolet darling


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.

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!]

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 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

 

Blue hydrangea

cold cash divine

Cashmere cologne

and white sunshine…

LDR

You know, when I see one I always think about my Grandma’s.

Enormous flowers bigger than a man’s head, bushes tall as a full wall…

I always wondered if you could build mazes with them…

Still so blue…so intrinsically beautiful! ❤

4540

La MTB è in riparazione…deo gracias…e a quanto pare si è fatta meno male della sottoscritta! 😝
Io invece corro come una matta sulla chevrolet darling alla non ci fosse un domani.
Gli affari bisogna prenderli al volo! 😎
Peccato che se si lavora quasi 20 ore al giorno bisogna anche fare i conti con il frigo vuoto e la lavatrice prima o poi…
Questa settimana sono sopravvissuta a latte, biscotti e saikebon notturni e il ciclo malato inizia a vedersi sigh!
Ho sonno…tanto che oggi mi sono coricata 10 minuti alla scrivania ed invece erano passate 2 ore a ronfare….😅
E vabbè dai prima o poi le acque si calmeranno un po’ e potrò godermi un 72 ore di ‘morte cybernetica’ anch’io senza troppi rimorsi…💤🌴🍹🥰

4523

Pompa della benzina morta sulla chevrolet darling dopo nemmeno sei mesi dalla sostituzione…se ci ho fatto 8000 chilometri dico tanto davvero.

*Avrei tanto voglia di urlare ma conto fino a 10*

*La crocetta sulla mia ossuta e liscia fronte non fa cenno a diminuire*

*Il soppracciglio va su e giù a tic nervoso*

*E troppo, sgancio la cintura di sicurezza ed esco*

Apertura cofano posteriore e rimestaggio finché non trovo la chiave che apre tutte le porte ovvero il piede di porco per le evenienze funeste.

Trovato quello facciamo partire la Chevrolet darling con un po’ di culo e intelligenza quindi vado in cerca di quella testa di ca**o di meccanico che mi ha sostituito la pompa.

Cazzo ho millemila cose da fare!

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.

Bite hard at life.

Use your teeth and take big chunks.

Sometimes the pressure is so strong you think you’re gonna lose a few.

Don’t loosen the hold.

You’re going to pull through.

Most of the times failing something is predestined by the noise in our own heads as Ti says.

Work is hard and pressing?

Keep your head down and remain focused.

Don’t stray with ‘what if’s’ don’t lose your mind on unimportant details.

Do. The. Work. And. Bite. Your. Bit. As. Hard. As. Needed.

Then you can relax and enjoy the sun and the wind and il ritmo perpetuo of the world around you.

There’s no rewards without work consuming your bones under the sun.

This is a truth I learned in the last couple of years and I’ve never been more happy to be awake very late hours just to finish what was on the agenda and then awake at 11 o’clock the next day with the relaxing knowledge that I finished the work and I had the next 72 hours free.

I work too much, this week has been just hell.

But rewarding, exhausting and fun.

Fin.

Happy Easter my darlings!

4477

We have our idiosyncrasies.
Sometimes I truly hate him, so much I want to tackle him and his fucking heavy-lifting frame with my 50 kilograms.
Other days he makes me purr, no-one’s ever done it before.
I could live wrapped around him like a tiny monkey, my arms around his neck and my face in his back…a living backpack.
Better place to sit on his lap and err…well…
I adore him when he drives delicately my chevrolet darling, when he lends me his shirts to use as pajamas (even his defeated look when this happens), his wardrobe, the quality of the morning light through his kitchen window, his cooking, the rings of smoke he blows when he’s thinking hard.
The smile when he understands he’s winning big, the way he goes for it like there’ll be no tomorrow.
How he walks in after we have a fight, totally aplomb.

Ti is still him.
I am still me.
We just walk side by side down the same road.
Happy & Glorious.

Fin.

pexels-photo-908629.jpeg

Photo by Ale Usama on Pexels.com

4453

Crema solare. Check.

Occhiali da sole. Check.

Mountain Bike revisionata. Check.

Chevrolet darling lavata e lucidata. Check.

Controllo del sistema Kenwood. Check.

Notebook, smartphone e Canon. Check.

Capelli tagliati. Check.

Armadio Primavera/Estate. Check.

Andiamo a mordere l’asfalto e fare soldi.

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