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.

Ribbon rainbow

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. 🌻🌼🍁🌾🌄

When I play Sims 2…I also play this! XD

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…💤🌴🍹🥰

Persevere always!

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.

Photo by Ale Usama on Pexels.com

4398 – Axis

Sera, tramonto, dopocena, quindi Ti alla guida della chevrolet darling ed è già notte.
“Do you have a thing for him, Fräulein?”
“Whom?”
rispondo, senza pensare mentre controllo lo smartphone.
Silenzio.
Blocco lo schermo e mi volto a guardarlo, il profilo illuminato dai lampioni.
“What were you talking about?”
“Leave it.”
“You sure?”
Non aggiunge niente mentre l’auto corre a velocità stabile fra gallerie e macchie di luna calante.
“Ti.”
“Yes?”
“Have I ever watched someone else the way I look at you?”
No, le fatidiche paroline non mi sono ancora uscite ed inizio a credere che non mi usciranno mai.
Rimane però che fra me e lui non ci sono ombre, un vero record a questo giro di boa.
“Fräulein.”
“Yes?”
“Want breakfast?”
“Famished.”
“Good, my treat, after that is your turn to drive us home.”
“‘kay.”
“SLOWLY.”

Sometimes there’s much more in the hidden thoughts, the unsaid words, the laughter and the quiet.
Running back where everything started.
We haven’t changed.
We are still here.
The first day we met was a dark day, full of bitter facets and scorn.
Yet you’ve came and stayed.
I can be hard at times, evil and difficult.
Still you’re here and you make my world revolve.

4305 – one dream

Ancient weary eyes looking at you from a youthful face.

As old as you feel, bones creaking and all.

A bed too small to lay on, midnight noon sweltering outside.

Heavy music from static-laden speakers, music so old no-one remembers it.

You don’t even remember when or where you met him, just the look in his eyes.

The too old holey t-shirt, the battered leather jacket and scuffed doctor martens.

Not uttering a word, laying there.

And every year past seems longer than ever watching those eyes dilating.

Future remains beyond, full of things you’ll never know until it’s their time.

The record’s playing, the air is still.

The wolf in your bed hums, as meek as a lamb.

As the sun scorches a thousand licking flames.

“Your eyes are blue, very odd.”

“Still blue? I thought not.”

“Very blue. How come?”

Lick your lips, no sweat over your upper lip, and smile.

“I was born with them.”

Somewhere a hammond is playing and the spirit soars.

Never will you learn how young is he in his old years.

Until you’ll be shown.

3972

Mi sento come Linds in Sapphire Blue…totalmente fuori di testa.

Peccato che questo stato mentale sia solo portato da stanchezza e stress perché se inizio a non prestare più attenzione mentre guido e davvero indice che sono al limite… =(

Voglio una vacanza…possibilmente in culo al mondo dove il telefono non prende, ma c’è internet in modo di potermi vedere tutte le serie tv che mi sono persa ultimamente.

E magari, già che ci sono, scrivere qualcosa su UT (Linds, appunto!)

Ed ascoltarmi un po’ di musica, giocare ore a Sims 2.

E riuscire a rilassarmi in una vasca da bagno senza interruzioni.

Un giorno passato esclusivamente sul sellino della MTB con pranzo al sacco.

Niente tragedie isteriche, telefonate lavorative alle dieci di sera, arretrati delle due del mattino e stati di coma nel quale riesco solo a dormire ciulandomi tutto il free-time che non ho…

Giuro che una di queste mattine non mi alzo dal letto…solo per vedere che effetto fa al sistema intorno a me…povero Ti. xD

Truth of the day

Life is full of surprises…like a package received in the mail…☺

Song of the day + snippets

You know what I truly like?

To drive my massive car softly.

The engine warms very slow in cold winter days such as these.

I almost feel the moment the motor oil starts to be less dense, flowing faster and the slight vibration of the pistons cease.

My big purring baby when the temperature is just right and I finally open the gas and she growls eating the asphalt away a fraction of second later.

The horsepower that makes me smirk evilly.

This morning me and her….makin’ sweet love.

Adesso sapete anche perché molti di miei personaggi sono patiti di bolidi. Sí, venderei la mia anima x un nuovo carburatore proprio come Roger Taylor…sigh…peccato che la mia abbia l’iniezione elettronica!

I feel love every million miles
I feel love every once in a while…

Songs of the…weekend

How your fields so green can whisper tales of gore…

2675

Un piccolo appunto per ricordarmi che avete fatto bene.

Se non l’aveste fatto non avrei mai avuto il coraggio di lasciarvi indietro e rimettere le radici nella terra buona, agganciarsi alla roccia.

Non sarei mai riuscita ad scrivere di affetto ed amicizia ed l’infatuazione e l’amore e l’odio e il tradimento e la gelosia e tutte le piccole cose che rendono un paio di paragrafi vita.

Lasciarmi cadere è stato il regalo più bello che mi abbiate mai fatto.

THIS!

“Think of a book special to you, and how much bleaker and poorer your life would
be if that one writer had not existed—if that one writer had not, a hundred
times or a thousand, made the choice to write.

You’re going to be that one writer, one day, for somebody you may never meet. Nobody can write that book
you’re going to write—that book that will light up and change up a life—but
you.”

– @sarahreesbrennan, on ignoring the doubters.
(via lettersandlight)

There is such truth in these words I bow to to you.
So many books have made me what I am today (both the fiction writer and the reader) that I can wholly understand.
And every new story or book I feast my eyes on is a discovery and a change in itself.
When you love something you keep it near your heart; be it a novel, a piece of music, a painting, a picture.
And then you create, because you’re inspired by others’ works, the magic returns and you give your best.

This is the place of mind when I finally feel to be in the right place in time.