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Post year-end '-' WTF

missing a few hours e. .. 2010 (the year is 2010 right?) will be over. I must say that this' year has gone by pretty quickly, I have not even made Auditors, __ °

Viewed that seem to go out of fashion lists of good intentions, here's a random list. I do not think it will respect but let 's try, no?

-Update the journal with some regularity.
Back-to read and write up a fair EFP
-Decidere/Fare/Portare my first cosplay.
-managed to finish all the Phoenix Wright games
-See an episode of "Scandinavia and the world" in the animated version. Humon. Please. Make it ç___ç
-Reaching a total of 150,000 total views on YouTube. But considering that there are currently 122,300 to be a little 'difficult.
-Attending to 'extinction of bimbiminkia.
-Buy a pink unicorn (WTF?)
-Farm take the CAPCOM (WTF?)
-L 'latest is a secret xP


HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL = D

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WTF What the fuck
Pause . A small break from.
is from late November that I have checks / questions almost daily. Now just: / It seems that the teachers are fun to work hard to: /
Well, I saw that the 'icon of LOL with Gilbert and Peter became famous on fb ... Since it has been used by groups to make a couple of notes ...
then let another link to my video hope it spreads too: ° ° D



Yes, I have nothing to say, Hasta la Vic ... the view!

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birthday of Chinese good

in my apartment there is a good Chinese name of Solomon. Chinese call him to distinguish good from evil Chang, also known as the Chinese problems, due to the fact who speaks virtually no English. For then I think Chang underneath it's a good fellow, though once - I was here for less than a week - I fainted in the bathroom, and when I cried help to draw your attention to the friend does not even leaned the nose through the door. but despite this I think is not so bad. Solomon is now sleeping in a puddle of vomit, a couple of feet from my room. Today is his birthday. There was a party in common room, which is right in front of my door. There were four or five Chinese girls, me, Jeff and Ian, Chang, and of course Solomon. corner of the Anglophone Jeff room - probably the only Californian on the right and east of the Urals - had supported his usual discussion about the decline of Obama, and Ian gave us his apologies in with the wonderful Governement German small and short, as you know when capital begins to tirarsela someone has to say something to the left. The fact is that we did not notice that while the Chinese drank and drank like a sponge, until Solomon has not collapsed in the face with a dead weight in the trash. I later realized that the girls had convinced him to play their own version of Patruno and sutta, and judging by the outcome, the poor in Solomon's gone bad. It also seems that there was half a half in love with one of the revelers guests, and in fact. I tried to get him on the couch, but the guy rolls up in a rash when he falls and hits his head, I'm afraid to get hurt. so we finally decided to leave it where it is, lying on the ground to enjoy the glory of his birthday.

'm back down memory lane a couple of years ago, that first terrible hangover of wine, the night that I went into the conspiracy. and then again last year, eight the night of December when all of a sudden things again lost their name. and finally here I am, this time sober, and already has too many memories not enough hair to sleep soundly. but I console myself: I'll wake up tomorrow morning, and whatever happens I will be happier to Solomon.

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gray sky and a red pickup truck Monday morning

August 9. may have been a lifetime since the last lines of my hypothetical newspaper.

Venice, strange greetings, and now the ocean, in a place that was once called the seat of the king . the same place now bears the name of a saint, whose Pellacchia was brought here by a greek, for reasons I frankly do not know. an old story, anyway. here things are old, but there is no policy or passion in this antiquity. perhaps there is magic, or that its secular equivalent that inspires respect (and sometimes fear) in front of the trees, wind, stone. in the colors of images of people read a neighborhood still tangible, signs a custom rock, enigmatic, impenetrable. in this me me me rediscover the Mediterranean, Latin, and admit that the ocean front at least it sounds mocking. especially for one who has spent his life to miss the sea.

(but the years - every year - digging depths behind the words, and who knows what I meant when I thought the sea)

short: I'm not sure which direction I am traveling, or whether they are worth these days my time. too many things yet to understand and discover. I try to remember how were my first days in Bologna, but I can gather only vague impression, and it does not help.

however nostalgia hits hard, and the great thing is that I do not even know exactly what I miss. (And this is a bit 'sad, actually. How can you be nostalgic for something that already there was no more? Eccazzo.)

anyway. I was given a blog, before you leave. I will try to fix it, like soon, telling anecdotes, comic timing brush, fight acne. when there will be something I'll put the address next door somewhere. for Moreover, you again.

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R expires, Clare, santiddio.

I impress in the memory of this day.
The tag says " 5 AE" attached to the classroom door, the breathing air home. Starting in the fourth with that phrase like a mantra " you are in the fifth, you have exams . And he
that has kept its promise. E 'come to greet me . Those two
printed kisses on the cheeks - the expression of her - that " also wanted to say goodbye before I came, but there was traffic .
God, I broke my heart. And my legs were shaking even seating, incredible is not it? : ')
... The feeling of being on a sort of pedestal, there to walk through the hallways. Most children who watched us almost with admiration, the embrace of the religion teacher - a person who can teach me something I do not think that meant anything to me? - And that " vivertela not bad, Chiara. Will you make .
I know I'll make it. I know.
E ' to review the classmates of M. out with tears in his eyes, suddenly confronted with their past ... I'll make it, but next year I'll also so .
I've always had great difficulty to turn the page, and in a bit 'I have to turn the most important one.
A year is too little. Of all the smiles, the votes tickets to the tasks, the tears gone wrong questions, took trips around the croissants at the mars bar and the coffee, laughter plots I will remain a physical education sheet with a number I have nine months to grow more and more.

All this because I saw a mountain collapse at the gate of my school.

Henry .

But I'll manage. Good or bad, I'll make it.

"Study throughout the year, otherwise then do the end of chicken."
"Prof of rat!"

(the fact that 's another has moved in the branch is a nice thing. Stammilontano , yes. )

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...

The holidays are over. back to school tomorrow .___. Ah
that pain!

Oh, yes there are ... I put another video: D Let's say this is more of an experiment ... Since I just learned how to zoom pictures: ° ° ° D

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Gira bad people, it turns bad!

And here we are.
I thought that this afternoon, not too bright because of the shape of the undersigned, the Scazzi for an evening and probably will miss the cold that haunts me these days, I could get comfortable here and write something, eliminating the last long rambling post. Then
. We, the return is imminent. The fifth and
last year. not the five to scare me, it is THAT ' last there ready to mark the end. The border
spend willy-nilly. And then I can not go back.
I have always been nostalgic , and it does not help. I will always fixed on his head the idea that everything I do is for ' last time.
L ' last diary, the' last school trip. L ' last race for the best schools, the last topics in class. The latest jokes, the last stuffing cake mars recreation. This hurts.
It 's like with my obsessions, here. Like when a show ends or finishes reading a manga. Or a book! Or when I'm writing the latest chapter in a fanfiction. And the songs that I
dig a hole at heart?
Why I attack things, here, and then live it really hurt .
Maybe there is something wrong with me .
especially when I thought, re-opening the old chest, I found all those things very old ... I always thought I did the right thing, really wrong.
And it is a mistake that I drag behind a lot of time, follows me even now. Only, cynical and calculating as they are ( become ), I can pass it off as a mistake of others.
My Fifty percent of wrong is reduced to a twelve - and only in my brain, however. My famous guilt.
I wonder when they become so. Me I must be lost, at that time. Maybe I was distracted.
And I'm spending my last day of the fourth higher - until I read the label "5AE" attached to the door of my class I have in the fourth , eh - in zombie mode. Here at Grancereale
gorging on chocolate, with one leg and killed her tummy hurt.
here to steal the shirts of my brothers, to shut with the souls of the moment, Sailor Moon (revised at eighteen years ago a strange effect, yes ♥), and reject out because "it hurts all folks, I'm not well. "
Balle .
not I go and I do not know why. I know that I need to see the write his name on facebook throws me on a crazy sense of nausea. And I want to let go, because I nothing to lose but if I lose me is end. And I will not capitulate again, would not make it.
know it sounds obvious and tragic, I know, are melodramatic. I do not know what to do, turn that way.
Maybe I need to breathe the air of school routine. I will review everything to see them every day. My poor fools just

age ♥ I hope him in the end, do not come back Monday. And I hope the other I stay away. It 's so great to have stopped thinking about it, I will not start again.

Some would say "positivism." It is positivism.
Tonight, if nothing else, the back of my idiot brother. ♥

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Twentythree.

- Hermione - Ron laid her down on the parchment, interrupting his work of copying - was always like this, the sacred half an hour before the time of McGonagall. He had been baptized, this time, "the twenty-ninth minute." Something, something untouchable.
And whenever necessary.
- Hermione - Ron nodded, but did not seem convinced.
Harry, meanwhile, continued to pretend that the shock in the tone his best friend was only translated as "Oh, Hermione discovers that when we are copying his notes again we Avada Kedavrerà"
Which, actually, could be partly true - useless to take the bottoms, the shock came from the words that the boy survived had just run away from his innocent lips.
But intentionally, eh. More or less.
- Hermione ... That . - Then spat in red, frowning.
Harry kept his eyes fixed on his parchment, intent to write the word "Evanesce" - had always liked that word. Sent him a something of freedom, mixed with a slight loss and grief and ... Oh, damn, it was no escape.
- Yes, Ron, that . What other Hermione know? - Then forced herself to say, raising his head in an instinctive movement of anger as risky.
folded blue eyes of his friend and understood the full meaning of that risky. Ron was shocked to say the least.
- Hermione - he said it for the fifteenth time - Hermione. The our Hermione
.- Seventeen.
- Hermione - Weasley continued, Harry corrected himself mentally and with a more appropriate eighteen - our best friend. N-no, let me get this straight. Hermione Hermione ? Twenty
.
- The your best friend - corrected him, uncombed even more the dark tangle of hair. Then he added a dot after "Evanesce" just to escape from the blue eyes in front of him.
- Oh no, Harry - the highest tone of a couple of octaves - our . Of both. What was it for you, before your brain gave birth to this wonderful awareness that unhealthy? Tell me, what they mean for you, Hermione? Part
Harry recorded the brain which was able to articulate phrases tear to his companion, in those rare moments when it was losing his temper. Not that Ronald was able to talk, mad. But he could speak the . Which, as a rule, it was good. And right.
not for the fact that speech that was to be classified as absolutely out from the norm.
- E '... I do not know what it was for me first, damn it - flushed, fixed on the dot of ink - is the person closest to me. Always. Even Dumbledore-cred -
- The most close, eh? And what am I? All these years, Harry, all .. - Ron's voice broke.
- Ronald - pulled back his eyes off the parchment and met the angry eyes of the other - seriously, forgive me for being straight. Then he raised an eyebrow
- and his friend seemed to grasp the meaning reasoning.
- Oh. -
- Already -
Calò a brief silence, broken only by tapping the left foot of Ron on the floor of City Hall - strangely deserted - and Harry took the opportunity to wipe his glasses.
was a kind of vice, a way to escape once again from the incredulous look.
Honestly, What would she have told him? Nor had he fully understood the point at which the affection had become another type of attachment, random corridors when the relief valve had begun to cause him not a few thoughts at night. He did not know. Really.
- When you noticed? - The stamp of the red seemed to be back to normal, and Harry positioned his glasses on his nose.
- I do not know - said frankly.
- Come on - Ron gestured wildly - there must being the signals. Moments. The first that comes to mind.
- Say Yes ... Maybe ... When Dumbledore asked me if we were together - me and Hermione, I say. I am blushing, I think - wanted to say something, right? - Anyway, I still knew it. You know, all those Cho and so other schools .. - Frowned.
Ron broke into a smile. - With "so" you mean that thing of Krum, right? Hermione and that bothers him quite-
- In retrospect, yes. - All-interrupted 'era bear it, here. I was even happy for her - Harry frowned eyebrows.
- time - the other nodded, a hint of irony in the face.
- Eh. Perhaps it was easier at the time. -
- You can tell. - Dithering, the red, picking up the pen.
Harry heaved a sigh of relief - the worst was over, then.
- Hermione - only repeated, shaking his head as copy the report of the girl. Twenty-three
, Harry looked up to heaven, that guy had a very large vocabulary.

__________________________________________________ Useless.
HarryxHermione written for my Mami.
As you can see that is a Pivellina in the HP fandom x ° °

Black Poop From Drinking

and two - traces of sleepless nights.


Yes, I have to laugh, too. The point is that
not have photoshop - and it's ridiculous ironic but not because it's my job and not even know where to start.
It is particularly bad, I can not choose the effects and appropriate written rather Schifini fan, but OH.
In my list of good intentions for 2010 was also " try to graphics." Present
those things you do even if you are not capable for the sake of saying "once in my life I did it too"? This - "graphics" - is one of those. The
01. it was the first first first (:


Icons:
# 01 - # 05: Spuffy.
# 06 - # 07: Panda.
# 08 - # 11: Redheads & Random pics.
# 12 - # 13: Ben Barnes
* ç * # 14 - # 16: Kodocha.

01. 02. 03.
04. 05. 06.
07. 08. 09.
10. 11. 12.
13. 14. 15.
16.

At three I ventured into a gif. A simple thing, by the way, but the maximum I can do.

17.

At three and a half, since I did not have enough yet, and I wanted to ruin a photo I liked, I started to mess another banner for five wonderful letters. Although Ro is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful.
18. (But worth more, we do 20? **)

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time ... Change very many things ... LOL

I decided to redo the ranking of the characters Hetalia ... And after a year away ... This is the result: ° ° ° D

1	Southern Italy Romano * *
1	Spain
1	Prussia
1	Friedrich II * * Old Fritz
1	Denmark
1	America
1	UK
8	France
8	Russia
8	Poland
8	Korea
8	Belarus
13	China
13	Lithuania
15	Sweden
16	Shinatty-chan *China's mock Hello Kitty*
17	Kumajirou-san *Canada's Polar Bear*
18	Ancient Rome
19	Norway
19	Iceland
19	Germany
19	Japan
23	Italy
24	Belgium
25	Hong Kong
26	Turkey
26	Greece
26	Canada
29	Holy Roman Empire
29	Hungary
29	Switzerland
29	Seychelles
33	Austria
34	HanaTamago *Finland & Sweeden's dog*
34	Vietnam
34	Taiwan
37	Finland
37	Estonia
37	Latvia
40	Pochi-Kun *Japan's Dog*
41	Pierre *France's Parrot*
42	Egypt
42	Sealand
42	Cuba
42	Liechtenstein
42	Jeanne D'Arc (Joan of Arc)
42	Maria Theresia *Austria's Boss*
42	Thailand
42	Australia
42	Ukraine
42	Czechoslovakia
42	Germany
53	Cyprus
53	Tibet

Romano is obviously at the top in both ù.ù And congratulations to Denmark from 47 managed to reach the place first: ° ° ° D
not know, this ranking a bit 'scares me ... Have changed a Lots of things: ° ° ° D But after all is normal in the course of a year I learned about all the characters in the series a bit 'better ... And here's the result: D But in general I like them all ... I do not hate anyone in particular ... so ... I refer to you, characters you've caught the latest position ... Do not hate me TT After all, I love> w \u0026lt;(but those who are higher up the charts I want more: D)

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18/08/2010 - In October a year.

I would really find a way to help him. Not only for him, maybe a little 'for all - also for myself, yes, I'm selfish, but some are just bad memories. One year
and the ghost that I had done with cernit is still abandoned beside the washing machine, door-medicine is on the marble in the kitchen and certain scenes are still trapped in the brain and do not come anymore.
I still remember, what I said to myself, " must be strong: he has promised you .
I did my best, it is he who has not kept his promise.
And I have reviewed these eyes tonight, I have reviewed and perhaps - perhaps - would have seen them a hundred times better closed. not seeing them just . Why
that face, that smile exhausted next to the door I remember them well, still haunt me.
And now it's like the keychain that I gave: a ghost.
I increasingly feel that the face, smile that exhausted next to the door have been neither a promise nor a goodbye. That was a goodbye.

"not present when no light and you'll see more efforts to look for anyway?"
Yes, this - Overglow in a thousand different ways.

I want my brother.

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and two - changements.

Time for a new - template, room, head.
The first point is feasible and that done. I also deleted all the old man who was in here, because I am one who really need these things. On the second I started to work today.
I dedicated this morning to a beautiful art-attack which is also perfectly able - I might have a future as a carpenter, if you only want to! - the next step is to toss that chaos things that do not use, do not watch and do not I like them also that not remember now to have more. The American flag will make its appearance, my bulb will become a daisy (art-attack for tomorrow!), The right side of the library, one behind the bed, will all the latest cards, my air tickets, photos, booking the first tattoo and what receipt. Casini different, in fact.
tiger will move the pillows in the room and deliver stuffed animals that my mother had forced the puff.
I buy curtains. And a carpet.
I need to cancel the writing on the cabinet and dedicate door to all Overglow.
Poiii Mart has made me share in the wonder of wonders: after reading the last sclero, "Zen Bunny. Carrots, came up with "but you know that there are Zen gardens ornament version? Small, some are beautiful. I saw them in Padova on the shop's rocking your niece, but I think there are even closer. "So yes, another thing that I is to buy a - short, for me is a must.
Then I have to find a poster of Ben hanging from the ceiling - seriously, wake up and see him first thing we want to talk about it? - waiting for someone to hurry to get to the throne and makes me so Mrs. Barnes. On even days, of course, there is the odd Spike. * Cough cough *
In short, all things that a Princess can .
But back to us. In short, I think I do it: D

The argument "clean head" is, here is another kettle of fish.
Definitely. The point is that just
I've made a step forward ... He backed of four.
I got in the game - him NO , she freaks out for a picture: what would happen in the case came across those -damned-mail?
To me the whole 'story is exploding is the brain, but also his coronary arteries to be covered in terrible conditions.
... Not that I want pity, it would be a bit 'hypocritical of me - found and all. And then he
, is not that I see him do well.

So yes, a marvel.
words. I never thought it would be easy. Just a little 'more feasible. And fast. And painless.

God I'm going to take a oki.

and playback All We Are: ')

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Basil the false peace: A shield? (No Ah. .. but ... Oh ... No come on ... Eh ...) As long as you can to protect all is well! Ryohei
the violent: But no, there 's the trick! Lambo
the frignone: MAMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It pierces all.
Kikyo, shame on you, do you put a child under 5 years old D:

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know, I'm back in town.

few hours to shake the strange feeling from head to think in English. then not only think, but here is difficult. one of the few things I believe - along with socialism and sandwiches OVA - is the hypothesis Sapir Worf. which then - for me - it means something very specific, and probably different from the original formulation. ok. but what is cool to say you want to put hypothesis Sapir Worf ? Sounds better than the Prime Directive, fuck.

coffee.

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saudade

Locarno, inner garden of the hostel.

ask everywhere look there are mountains, and this could be the beginning of a novel that lightning never write.
or at least not today. anyway, this week in Switzerland I is not doing well at all. all languages spoken at random, but that does not bother me much. after all, is Switzerland.

the fact is I keep slipping into a kind of obsession analytical furious, gloomy, evidently useless. and Good, I said. it only takes two minutes to decipher the mess that I feel him. a mixture of frustration and a sense of failure that even in a film about the generation in their thirties, those with Stefano Accorsi and photography translucent. try to get out on the one hand, and we fall back. I try the other, and riciaffete. seriously, I begin to feel irritated and impatient.

there is a tiny little thing who is walking on the white screen. lies on 'a' of 'is'.

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left everything and I move to a farm in Turkey! So random LOL

And I swear that I do.

Cough, these are the effects of post-reading Voltaire's Candide. Voltaire, you were a FIGO. If you died almost 250 years ago we had a wonderful love story \u0026lt;3 \u0026lt;3 \u0026lt;3 \u0026lt;3 \u0026lt;3 \u0026lt;3 \u0026lt;3 \u0026lt;3 \u0026lt;3 \u0026lt;3 \u0026lt;3 \u0026lt;3 \u0026lt;3 \u0026lt;3

Anyway ... Wow ... Of course I do not write here a lot 'of time ° O ° I had promised to take actions consistent but ... There 's nothing to do, I'm not a person constant>.>

So ... I can write ... I'm working on a new project with sony vegas ... An amv about Xanxus and Shark with the song "Monster" by Lady Gaga * w * Ok, Lady Gaga, but I do not like the song is perfect for both of them * * www
Of course when I finish I'll put it on the tube and then the linker here * w *
Then ... Speaking of Reborn ... I can not wait 'get out now that the new caracter song August 18 * OOO * Shark, and Bel Xanxus * O * The duet Spaner and Shoichi * AA * Mukuro * w * Fran *-* Kikyo. No, this thing does not conceive. What 's entering Kikyo O__O Rather do a song of lust character>. \u0026lt;(Luss mama, you're always in our hearts even without the new characte song)
Those of Tsuna and co ... Ok, I have not yet heard them all (only those of Dino, Yamamoto, Gokudera and Hibari: ° ° ° D), and then I can not give a real opinion ... But what I heard made me miss the old TT I miss loop, I miss all loved, was no kufufu, oretachi no joy, sakura addiction.
Ok, the truth is that the character c song 'come in part.
This reflection, let's call it, began wandering on FB ...
Taking as a reference point two years ago when I discovered reborn ... Many things have changed ...
Reborn has become commercial. Seriously. Until two years ago, all crazy about Naruto, now all wearing a Reborn. The same goes for
Hetalia.
anime and manga seem to have suddenly become a fashion ... At least on Fb. Because if I tried to tell some of my acquaintances, "I read manga and watch anime" They looked at me wrong. While there are on fb million units "otaku" with thousands of fans. And I wonder ... as possibile O___o When did this happen? ___ It will remain a mystery O__O
(but just melodramas)
Always on the frontier anime and manga ...
I plan to make for the next cosplay Cosplay
* w * But I'm still undecided as regards the character to wear>.> (Without glasses because I do not see a Aizen x__x)
Currently on the list are
-Irie Shoichi (but where I find it a wig?)
-Monaco (always problem wig \u0026lt;. \u0026lt;and dress °__°)
-Austriaconilvestitobiancochesivedenellefanart (although not think I have to slam the mariazell O__O I put tons of gel>.> And then I tremble at the thought of meeting the fans that could prungary chase and beat the living daylights O__O ocristopher O__O well, better not to risk O__O)
Chikusa-(for me the barcode x ° ° ° D)
-Fujoshi (why go around saying "want to buy my doujinshi yaoi would be too Powah! ù.ù )
-Pedro (because the pokemon are always in my heart \u0026lt;3)
And then there is also my old flame (But where?) Tier, which I think I should do the type cospaly a century ago because of a bet or something like that. But I think if I tried to make her cosplay would spend all their time laughing and eventually die suffocated.

Anyway ... a list is a bit 'strange O___o Most likely they are Fujoshi, Pedro and Shoichi (Christopher, I do not think it's so hard to find a red wig O__O) But never say never, the list might be changed in future ù ;.

ù E fan fiction on the side ... summarize ... I have a lot of fan fiction in pending ... Let '...
philter-Hamburger (wah, sorry to leave TT unfinished boh maybe add another chapter and conclude ... even if the pairing does not attract me so much>. \u0026lt;)
-My Island ... My Iceland (Iceland a centric * A *... Because nobody shit x ° ° ° ° D)
-Under the stars (he was a AntonioxRomano if not mistaken ... which if I remember correctly I wrote the O__O last 10 lines is absolutely finished>. \u0026lt;)-
''Let's paint! (Gokudera centric)
-Thank you, Namimori (Tsuna and guardians centric)

Waaa I have so many projects and so little time to make them all>. \u0026lt;Not to mention the list of manga to read and to watch anime>. \u0026lt;

Well, I think I've written enough.
there will be a lot of spelling mistakes but it's not my fault if I can not use the keyboard of the laptop @ __ @

soon! = 3

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best quote Truffaut

delivered everything. The Director replied something like whole functions. not that I expected a bellavèz, however short. I hope it's because I do not pay: it gives you consistency.

halls and rooms a subtle fear fucking. but - as Sinatra - is a strange sensation, you do not know whether it is fear or freedom.

I listen to Verlaine, who may or may not like me.

I sent my poems to a friend who has contacts in publishing. crediamoci but not too much.

and Bologna is so beautiful tonight that almost makes me think that a little
'

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interesting etc. The epic

miss you already, and in practice is a fucking hot, and I have to deliver an item within the next day.

I sit on my floor, intent on slamming my sweaty little fingers on the keyboard. it is likely that in a few weeks begin to touch me tell about my exile across Europe. I will by the parties of dA to prevent falls of style, overlapping imagery, annoying intimate itching. I decided to type now. But I will post here the practical intertextual, so that everyone can be updated and happy of my Pippola overseas.

said that, I'm going to buy ice cream. thoughts acrobatic brothers.

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ottoluglio

things missing in this summer

(in no particular order of feasibility)

a piece that tells a bit of the Boss' everything. the desire to leave. hair that is exposed wires. hug my sister. organize a holiday. quarrel while organizing a vacation. wait for something. feel strong. burn away in the sun having put the sunscreen. stay on the beach with T-shirt, sash and hat while you Tuttintorno fustabbronzati another up pitifully (and feel like an idiot). think that after all nothing is missing. make plans. things that taste of winter does not even touch. be proud of their friends and their time.

eh bon. where the plant is becoming a complain. or ennui, as they said the Provencal. about: Folquet (the real one) was one who wove the wind. Pippola mica.

short, goes a bit 'and so I do not know why.

in a couple of months I will go to the north. I thought I should also prepare a journal to tell. But
not here. open an ad hoc (sed non sunt multiplicanda entities) or retrain dA.
suggestions?

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Just a word: HOLIDAYS


Cough, I know, I should Find Another hobby ... But I love to create AMVS

Q: So, this is my last amv, tribute to Prussia. Enjoy it!

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Cape

The epic CAPE

mass berlusconizzata no faith or projects, no future, it is impenetrable by word and by reasoning, he believes only what he sees, or the life of Truman Show TV , without which it would dissolve. As shown in the film by Sabina Guzzanti, decipher the hallucinatory world of Berlusconi, and above all grasp the reasons for the consensus that collects, is a vain enterprise

Don Quixote, Rocinante by tossing in the battle with the windmill that rotates its many arms as the mythical Briareos, cries out to Sancho Panza, who rushed in a gallop on his mule, "the magician Freston, after stealing the room and the books, has turned the giants into windmills to deprive him of the pride of winning it, but in the end, little will be worth its arts evil against the goodness of his sword. " Realistic and reasonable, Aristotle, Sancho even recognizes that no dialectic can object to the reasoning of that unrestrained Platonist: raises her arms to heaven, and relies on "what God wills." For four hundred years we readers repeat the gesture of Sancho, Don Quixote and conclude that it is crazy to confuse appearance and reality, because the mills, it is true, they can also look like giants, but this is clearly an optical similarities. As Sancho, however, none of us has ever watched the scene from the only acceptable point of view, the one who denies the existence of giants, unreal figures, created by myth and legend, and thus excludes the very possibility of any confusion. If you believe in giants, Sancho, and as it does as we do with him for four hundred years, without even realizing it, then Don Quixote has his reasons, because becomes permissible to believe evil deimaghi action, able to see in a mirror something that is not "really".
Michel Foucault, in some brilliant pages of words and things, had captured the heart of the issue, redeemed by the alleged madness this unexpected hero Don Quixote of the search for similarities, "as long lean style of writing a letter, which emerged directly from the yawn of books, [...] writing nelmondo wandering in the middle of the similarity of things. " In the middle age which replaces the resemblance to the theory of representation, the quixotic adventure, said Foucault, the problem of natural insignificance of reality, and the construction of a system of signs that make sense to go, just representing it.

The reality transformed into a sign
Don Quixote fights to 'remake the epic, but in the opposite direction: this [...] claimed to tell the real deeds, promises to the memory, but Don Quixote has to catch up with reality signs, without content, the narrative. His adventure will be a deciphering of the world: a detailed path to detect the entire surface of the earth figures showing that the books tell the truth. " His feat is "to transform reality in sign. "
I thought of the fate of this emblematic of the modern anti-hero as I watched the images of tragicomic Draquila, the excellent film by Sabina Guzzanti on which our film critics have already written to Cannes, recounting the reactions of civilized to the unacceptable attack by a Minister of the Republic against an artist who has, in a very elaborate film, documents and interviews, reflections and testimonies of everyone, but all points of view.
civil refuses to believe that Europe is enshrined in both the giants of the windmills of Don Quixote, and therefore still believe that we can even discuss the facts and express opinions without this means to discredit a nation in a democracy because the nation does not coincide with any opinion, but it is the dialectic between the many different views of the parties. On a deeper level though, and beyond any private or collective opinion, the world "is outside" of our borders is more astonished by the umpteenth proof of the inability of Italian politics but now (and is the most serious problem, growing day by day) of most of the population, to conceive of the debate around facts and principles in terms of verificamateriale, historical, and philological-textual'd say, the facts of reality. In short, the alteration of the truth, lying, falsification of the facts or their significance can not be regarded as "opinion." This is the crucial point that Sabina Guzzanti took with great acumen, in a film that is no longer just a 'satire' or 'documentary', even if it brings to light a grotesque and kitsch universe and discusses important documents, such as the correction of 'public' in 'the public and private " in the decree that gives emergency powers to the Civil Defence on an endless horizon, impossible in any normal country.

a horizon virtual
seems to me that in the heart of this film dull, terribly polished to witness the carnage perpetrated by the Italian civilization of reason no longer any hope of redemption, it just puts the problem of 'why' of Berlusconi and his consent to post-democratic regime, which now threatens democracy from using his logical tools, political and institutional.
Not only intellectuals, but all sensible people, like Don Quixote, trying to decipher the hallucinatory world today of Berlusconi are still a sense, trying desperately to reduce to reason, in fact, delirium of unreality that it has imposed. Despair, disenchantment, overwhelm those who continue to try to interpret reality according to the principle of non-contradiction.
Sabina Guzzanti's film is populated by earthquake victims locked in "fields" (in German Lager says) with a "head" to delegate decisions on limitations on the rights of expression and movement, which scream their anger and their contempt for a system, taking advantage of a state of permanent emergency, turn the instruments of democracy to gain weight dirty money corrupting private institutions pubbliche.Ma is also filled with other earthquake victims, not different from the first for social and cultural background, which, entering the hut clean and aseptic frighteningly "reconstruction", say, always smiling as their Head, of having had "a gift from the state, that is, by Berlusconi, the very day of his birthday 'but happy after having shown the ultra-thin TV, the trivet, crockery, oven,' the mix ' ; new state without even realizing, of course, the contradiction of being "out place ',' uncomfortable ', alienated those in houses with champagne reception and, as the offices of a list of the goods supplied to be returned intact at the start.
The act of "donation" is not political, public, yet personal, private. The whole world, virtual reality in which the Truman / truemen Berlusconi live, is a prosthesis gifts of the Body of the Cape. The whole reality is "the body image in the Cape," according to the formula intelligent Marco Belpoliti. Rights and responsibilities, respect and commitment, fade in the face of logic and fetishistic tribal Cape offers, gives, grants, and therefore not "government" but "decide" not "chair" and "coordination" but "controls."
The truth is difficult to admit and accept that the indifference is not only populist Berlusconi has managed to infiltrate the population through the dismantling of any ethical and political principle, weaving a network of diverse laxity, permissiveness, corruption , dimalaffare, illicit trafficking. Last Pasolini, one of the Letters ruthlessly prophetic Lutheran, had already Read the bastardize and soften even the system in detail sexual obsession, "The company preconsumistica needed strong men, and so chaste. The consumer society really needs are weak, and so luxurious. "
But there is a truth even more dreadful in Guzzanti's film offers a new, transparent documentation, and that the current political opposition difficult to recognize in a loud voice, wrapped in distinction and losers in compromise: both Berlusconizzato Sancho, Don Quixote is the defender of democracy and unconsciously believe irretrievably the giants (and their possible transformation into mills), all living in the same virtual horizon, made up of simulacra, just from Truman Show, schizophrenic, psychotic, because no one in it now recognizes the line between true and false, between body and ghost. The victim of the vampire becomes a vampire too, and can not free themselves from slavery: the vampire vampire, until "all are equal" (which is precisely the perverse slogan of anti qualunquistica now winning). How proclaims, terrible, a respondent in the final scene of the film, no longer need to hope that the wave overwhelm the scandals: why this should happen that there should be a reaction to the action, that some of Berlusconi's supporters, still angry, he felt, rather than remain inactive, addicted, still before the massacre in the logic and truth.
This is the shadow line on which the comparison eticopolitico suffers defeat of reason and argument, to which no Democrat wants to nor can renounce: to defeat forces to invent new tools for analysis and impact in the real world ;. You are unable to crystallize a more rational and reasonable comparison, a place ethical and cultural dimed. Elias Canetti called it "crystal mass" groups, "lasting and unalterable," who "stand out eerily from within the mass unrest": "it would lead any mass and any measure of it is absorbed, will not lose ; never quite the sense of his individuality, and will recover soon after the disintegration of the mass. " But a clan of businessmen shamelessly arrogant, immoral, anti-political, is not and will never be a "crystal mass." He has no ideas and ideologies, is not individuality, does not aggregate anything around him. Hit and run, making and eating this, so it creates the future, indeed it vanishes.

A future completed
mass berlusconizzata no longer has a crystal heart, he has no faith or projects. Has no future. He believes only what he sees: the Truman Show or the television life, without which it would dissolve. Is an inert mass, impenetrable by word and by reasoning, opaque mass trumanizzata and traumatized by the TV that knows and understands only the present without mediation, things, no more words. Our helpless and hopeless is losing time in politics because he saw dissolves forms of mediation, and now the mere communication to swallow emetabolizzare immediately stifles the argument, which is made of steps, procedures, logic, so Outlook and the future.
Who exalts the dangerous nature of giant Berlusconi we continue to say that it is only a windmill, but forgot to mention that the giants do not exist. The very title of the film, Draquila, wonderful play on words between Dracula and L'Aquila, Sabina Guzzanti has received in his blog by an unknown young man of great intelligence, it seems to me to mention at this vacuum, this ontological absence dall'antipolitica tax, filled only by the looting of vampirism business in the city-state earthquake.

Remember the wonderful dance scene with the vampire Please do not bite on the neck? Roman Polanski and his fellow adventure unminuetto imparruccato dance hall of a castle, but suddenly in the mirror you only see their two bodies. Those vampires are not there, because (it's the basic idea) vampires do not exist: therefore not reflected. So it
Cape, which exists only as long as his body is projected in the mirror TV and introjected in the mind of spettatori.Ma must look sideways, sideways, to discover the trick: the king is not even naked, indeed, now just does not exist. There is only its image that exists and thrives, and dries up and eats and reproduces, fantasy, vampire.

(Corrado Bologna, "the manifesto of 18 May 2010)

Invitation For First Year Death Anni

after hours

the morning and find myself a kindness not bashful

in my silences and fierce animal grateful



but you shut up and hold in the flesh
the cry of my claws digging into my
signs sprouted
not smile

not your
your skin is not that touch my hands


(watch them)
tremble slightly.

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reading anna k.

now, I thought. basically it is all a matter of imagination.

emerges slowly. I hear the echoes of an interior elegant, feminine, different from mine. a strange feeling, like watching the world from the other side. no charm, no power (his threat so masculine, so fierce), but anxiety, sadness, time digging in the body, the memories. the feeling of someone who touches you. as it must be observed to feel and see with new eyes at the same time? tell, build double bottoms existence.

(we believe to exist, and those are just words that grasp)

here as well, such as the hounds throw syllables, seize the moment to sink. a merchant that I feel at times. give me sleep, breathing, hands touching, and I will give it back images, names, anecdotes of adolescence ever eaten, privateers and gentlemen that run in the gestures, the stories of those around me.

but then - sottosotto - the ash remains ever dormant. what you do not want to admit. what they do, who needs these tales egotism, without stupid grudge, of sea sand? boy castles, towers of paper pulled up from the fear of being king. but the words leave no odor and does not weigh on the skin.

(the feeling of someone who touches you)

afraid to let it be observed, not to be chosen. the shame of the naked trees when the leaves envy. but just looking at the naked trees that you know the strength of their structure, and these are not, will never be more than joints. as the words of a blind man who tells the tale of his eyes.

and nothing. take it that way.

Blue Print Rabbit Hutch

folquet @ 2010-04-13T12: 31:00

slept badly.
not tell me anything, I slept badly and I could bite the throat even Bugs Bunny.

(apart from this, today is the day of relapse) I woke up this morning

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sequelae. An Englishman in Oslo

and I heard the news to see if I was alive.
said yes.

but was tigiquattro.

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Gaslight Anthem and shoot like a stupid gesture of defiance thrown in his face the day.

returned yesterday from Oslo. there is no one in Oslo, maybe does not exist. but they have particular tastes, in music. I was in a club where they danced the big boys tattooed rockabilly with the shiny shoes and white socks.

girls are all beautiful. but nobody knows where they are. except in the evening when the club said - which is called Mono - is filled with Viking dressed as Paris of the fifties.

the streets have names that always end up 'gata'. there is also a named Torga parallel to Storgata . I swear. sometimes seems to be in Rome. at every intersection of streets, exactly axiomatic, a Deli De Luca faces a 7-eleven. in third place following the Narvesen. If you split the number of Deli De Luca 7-eleven and the number of Narvesen in a given block, the result is 3.14.

one evening, following the lead, we went to eat at a restaurant frequented by the working class. the customers all had long hair, were ruddy and strong drink. women, too. at one point, a man named Bjorn made his entrance with a guitar, he boarded a small stage in back of the room and stuck to sing traditional American folk pieces. classics, such as Me and Bobby McGee . everyone danced and were happy.
in museums, however, the captions are not translated into Norwegian almost never.

dominant ethnic youth is undoubtedly represented by metalheads. their sophisticated gadgets overlooks the street from several music stores, strategically located in deprived young people. right next to Deli De Luca, exactly. but I do not mind, because when I was little I learned that the metalheads are just looking ammore.
Norway is the country dell'ammore.

Desio, however, is the land of the furniture, CL and things you'd like to do and not do, that you should first learn to drive.

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My last slideshow Hetalia

Enjoy it!

How Many Days Till Implantation

lightly

eh. light, yes.
but who has never believed, come on. I still remember when the appetizers were red. how you want to stay here, now, sit and watch this fucking wind storm, and shrug as the last of the dummies standa.
I do not know the lingo. My words always too bright, my doubts too serious. is that certain things can not be said, after a certain age you realize that, and then you just have to divert, put the clothes bright as not to feel the weight of worlds that fall. lightly, Always fucking lightweight.
brilliant and in my dress there I'm fine, my disdain is a miracle of comic timing, and when the night is over someone will beat him on the shoulder, and say, but you, but you talk about how strange you're funny.
is that some things are learned by children, I will answer, and besides it's too late, so now it's brother, you and me standing there.
that beats me on the shoulder, and I think I never learned the lingo, and when one greets me I'm always afraid of making mistakes hold.
and every now and then you salt, you rebel, eccheccazzo, well not this, after all efforts to claim an exception, a cinebrivido, some fucking braces real astonishment, was also Antani, but no, you have to go more lightly, that's where you're wrong, you continue to believe it too. is like coffee: you've been you and some English romantic, but these are the years of zero, not the cover of a ring EXERCISE.
on, on, you said yours, now I feel better, get up, do not ruin your evening, then at the end not worth it, no?
eh. well, lightly.

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Giochetto

not read ahead, but in order, point by point.
It will take 3 minutes, and believe me, it's worth it.
Get a pen and paper.

1.Scrivi the numbers 1 to 11 in a column.


2.A next to the numbers 1 and 2, write two numbers of your choice.

3.Vicino the numbers 3 and 7, write the name of a person of the opposite sex.
Two different names, of course, people you know well, and in doing so, follow your first impulse.


not read well in advance, or will not work ... Slowly ...
4.Scrivi the names of three people (friends, family ...) next to the numbers: 4,5 and 6.
NN cheating, would be a shame ...!!
5.Scrivi 4 song titles on the numbers 8,9,10,11.
6.Finalmente, express your desire.

Here is the key to the game ...
1.Devi about this game to a number of people

(the number is close to 2)

2.La person in position 3 AMI!
3.La person in seventh place but with much appreciates the work which nn ...
4.La fourth person is someone you care very much.
5.La person in the fifth position is the one that you really understand it fully.
6.La person put you in the sixth position is your good luck.
7.La song in eighth place is the one person associated with the number 3.
8.Il title in ninth place is the song for the person in seventh place.

9.La song in tenth position is the one that best reveals your spirit.

10.La song in 11 is one that reveals your feelings about life.
11.Scrivi this game to your blog, during the hour that follows the reading.


If you do, your wish will come true.
If you do not, the opposite will happen.
really strange, but seems to work

LOL, we got it pretty