Pensieri, peregrinazioni, sogni ad occhi aperti e (soprattutto:-) vaccate del buon vecchio Mattia...
Thoughts, wanderings, daydreams and (mostly!;-) nonsense by good old Mattia...
28 April 2007
when comments to somebody else's blogs slip out of hand...
for maybe ghosts are indeed all that's left to us, and we thus blindly but determinedly cling to them for the fondness they still manage to inspire, sure, but also and possibly mostly for lack of better "ideas". It all feels funny, up here, out of time and space and life, and tonight as I'm trying, without being seen, to lose myself into a pair of green (really!? and since when have I been able to tell their color!?) eyes, I go back, not without some curious urgency, to pictures of another life, and, not without some curious disappointment, have to conclude that I don't feel as bad I used to... and suddenly a curious lack of purpose tries and get hold of me ... but temptations make you stronger, they say, so let's enjoy the French Alps and some music...
15 April 2007
mental notes, albeit soon to be forgotten, if at all possible
Giornate strane, malferme, a tratti stordite ma sempre benedette dal sole, con parole e pensieri variamente pensati e poi per lo piu' perduti...
- un viso solcato dalle lacrime a ricordarmi che cosa potrebbe significare, magari nei ritagli di tempo, onde non disturbare, essere ancora vivi
- sole, e vento, e nonostante tutto sorrisi, lassu' sui Colli e poi sulla Torre
- una voce d'altri tempi a seguire un sms piu' o meno sventurato, a ricordarmi brevemente quanto si possa essere sciocchi, ancorche' felici, anche solo per un attimo, anche dopo tanto tempo
- un severo-ma-giusto scambio di sms a ricordarmelo, che' trattarsi bene non e' uno sport da signorine
- il tutto allietato dalla conclusione delle vicende della Toppers' House gang of 4, e dalla realizzazione che pensare a quello che si vorrebbe, *davvero*, e' un'arma a doppio taglio da non dirsi
'Cause if "pretending I'm not" doesn't feel that bad, at times, who knows what the real thing feels like any more!? But sure enough, as the possibly dry but certainly fairer than most old Buk used to say, "if you have the ability to love / love yourself first", for what is worth, I might add...
- un viso solcato dalle lacrime a ricordarmi che cosa potrebbe significare, magari nei ritagli di tempo, onde non disturbare, essere ancora vivi
- sole, e vento, e nonostante tutto sorrisi, lassu' sui Colli e poi sulla Torre
- una voce d'altri tempi a seguire un sms piu' o meno sventurato, a ricordarmi brevemente quanto si possa essere sciocchi, ancorche' felici, anche solo per un attimo, anche dopo tanto tempo
- un severo-ma-giusto scambio di sms a ricordarmelo, che' trattarsi bene non e' uno sport da signorine
- il tutto allietato dalla conclusione delle vicende della Toppers' House gang of 4, e dalla realizzazione che pensare a quello che si vorrebbe, *davvero*, e' un'arma a doppio taglio da non dirsi
'Cause if "pretending I'm not" doesn't feel that bad, at times, who knows what the real thing feels like any more!? But sure enough, as the possibly dry but certainly fairer than most old Buk used to say, "if you have the ability to love / love yourself first", for what is worth, I might add...
12 April 2007
... 'cause continuation dots are overrated ...
"now and again it seems worse than it is / but mostly the view is accurate", as one of the highlights of a given compilation said... and still says, for that matter, for the said compilation has been on the prestigious bay 1 of my car's stereo CD player for longer that it'd have been healthy, and would, incidentally but seriously, be in need of a worthy successor, if only its self-proclaimed uncool music-savvy creator thought about it before going down under... but that's not the (main) point of today's musings of mine, nor the (main) point of last night's heavy drinking, 'cause no matter what or where, indeed I seem to always be bound to "beat on", much a' la Gatsby, whether we speak of dangerously mixing the most unlikely drinks or of sending even more unlikely sms-es to those same oh-so-cute recipients during one of those regrettable moments of clarity which for some reason so frequently happen as you look at your drunk self in the mirror of a questionable pub's loo! one would only wish to have got the number wrong from memory, but I truly suspect this is not the case. and as I had the chance to muse some time ago with the aforementioned compilation's compiler, I'm struck by the blindingly obvious nature of the answer to that good old question ... "is this really it? of course it is, fella, there's nothing more to it, what were u thinking?" ... giornate che non hanno nemmeno la forza di essere cupe-cupe, "qui nel club di chi ammira il cielo" ...
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