Non me lo so spiegare

"Io non piango mai per te, non faro' niente di simile no mai...
Si lo ammetto un po' ti penso ma mi scanso non mi tocchi piu'..."


Tiziano Ferro ft. Laura Pausini - Non me lo so spiegare

Demented. Self-absorbed. Vain.

"Larry: You think I'm just gonna sit back and wait for you to get with the program? You might be afraid of all this Ally, but I'm... I'm not.
Ally: Larry, you've only seen the tip of the neurotic ice berg. I'm demented.
Larry: What else?
Ally: Self-absorbed.
Larry: What else?
Ally: Vain.
Larry: What else?
Ally: Beautiful. That's a good thing.
Larry: What else?
Ally: Maybe incapable of letting myself be loved.
Larry: That we need to work on, then.
Ally: Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into? I'm afraid to trust it.
Larry: Then we need to work on that too."

*s04

Walk On

'Leave it behind
You got to leave it behind
All that you fashion
All that you make
All that you build
All that you break
All that you measure
All that you feel
All this you can leave behind
All that you reason
All that you sense
All that you speak
All you dress-up
All that you scheme...'

Trois lettres destinées à mes victimes et à la vie 03

3. A mademoiselle Sens, rue de la « Passion »

Les regards dévorants et les mains inconnues qui caressaient ton sexe représentent maintenant pour toi des images qui n’éveillent plus tes sens. Tu aimais l’odeur des parfums chers et raffinés des clients qui cherchaient la volupté dans tes bras ; maintenant tu ne sens que le parfum de la mort, un souffle repoussant et froid qui traverse tous les pores de ta peau inanimée. Tu rêves d’être touchée encore une fois, mais la mort t’enveloppe en ailes de goudron. Les vers caressent ta chair, mais elle te blâme pour ne l’avoir pas laissée gémir sous le frôlement tendre de ces nouveaux inconnus. Qu’aurais-tu pu représenter pour la vie ? Justement ce que tu venais de dire ! Tu n’étais qu’une tranche de chair dont tous, ceux qui voulaient, ont satisfait leurs fantaisies sexuelles. Tu te vendais pour pouvoir vivre… Tu tenais à ton statut de « marchandise » et tu te sentais à l’aise en négociant ta féminité. Croyais-tu avoir toujours le même corps dont tu sois fière ?
Tu pourras dire que je t’ai rendu une faveur : j’ai effacé ton avenir si indésirable. Je t’ai frayé un nouveau chemin.
Qui sait, il se peut que tu trouves des clients même là-bas…

(Ecrit par Laura Raicu, une chère amie!)

Trois lettres destinées à mes victimes et à la vie 02

2. A une jeune fille de dix-huit ans, numéro 0, rue de l’« Incertitude »

Les cheveux bruns sont en harmonie parfaite avec ton visage blanc, froid, sans vie. Je mérite ta reconnaissance. Je t’ai sauvée, je t’ai tirée d’un mauvais pas : du suicide. Tu dois m’en être reconnaissante. Je t’ai aidée à répondre aux plus terribles questions de la vie : vaut-il la peine que je vive ? Et si je me coupe les veines ? Et si je prends tous ces médicaments ? Et si je ne meurs pas et que j’aie la malchance d’arriver a l’hôpital ? Toutes les choses vont-elles changer en mieux ? Je te dirais – rien ne sera en ta faveur, personne ne sera auprès de toi. Tes parents continueront de te considérer une folle femme capricieuse et ils ne te comprendront jamais (crois-moi, ils auront encore une raison pour te proposer un psychiatre) ; tes collègues seront toujours les imbéciles et ils ne cesseront pas de se moquer de plus en plus de toi, jusqu’à ce que tu finisses à souhaiter leur mort ; les professeurs vont te traiter de la sorte – une rebelle, une inadaptable, un parasite de la société, une femme sans avenir. Tu es une cause perdue !
Tu disais que tout ce que tu fais est erroné. Même ton suicide aurait été une erreur. Mais pourquoi ? Parce-que tu aurais joui de la publicité – imagine-toi les titres des journaux : « Une jeune femme de dix-huit ans se coupe les veines dans la toilette du lycée ». Tu serais sortie de cet anonymat que tu adores ; on aurait parlé seulement de ton histoire, même les inconnus. Rien de plus dégoûtant : tout le monde sera au courant de ton échec derrière un soi-disant « acte de courage ».
Je t’ai éloigné de l’obscurité de la vie,
Je t’ai fait ouvrir les yeux et
J’ai chassé ton incertitude.
Tu as encore à faire une seule chose :

RIRE DE CEUX QUI EVITENT LA MORT !

(Ecrit par Laura Raicu, une chère amie)

Trois lettres destinées à mes victimes et à la vie

1. A monsieur l'avocat de la rue « Justice », n'importe quel numéro.

Qu'est-ce que le monde ? Que sommes-nous, en fait, nous les gens ? Tout est un jeu... et toi, tu as perdu ! Tu as perdu ta femme, ton lieu de travail, l'argent, le prestige, ta vie... Oui, tu as perdu ! La seule chose que tu aies gagnée, c'est moi. Tu m'as gagné, tu as gagné le droit de mourir avant de te rendre compte de l'ordure où tu es, de la misère où tu vas te débattre avant de voir les papiers du divorce avec sa signature en bas de la page, avant de compter les derniers sous, avant de te voir humilié par tes anciens collègues. Je suis le seul que tu puisses remercier, parce qu'en effet je t'ai volé tout, mais, je t'ai donné la chance de mourir vite et inconsciemment.
Tu te demandes peut-être ce qui va se passer à ton enterrement... si tu auras une bonne ou mauvaise mine... qui va pleurer... qui va regretter que tu les aies quittés ? Même moi, j’en suis curieux : qui vraiment ? Ta femme, après l’avoir trouvée habillée d’une manière indécente, au lit, avec ton meilleur ami ? Qui ? Le président du barreau qui t’a mis à la porte pour n’avoir pas voulu faire son jeu pendant le procès de ce jeune homme ? Le voisin de vis-à-vis ? La serveuse du café où tu lis ton journal chaque jour ? C’est toi, seulement toi qui auras pitié de toi-même ! Tu vas essayer de trouver quelque chose de bon dans tout ce que tu as perdu : une vie comblée de rêves, un chemin qui n’a aucun sens. Maintenant tu essaies de trouver des réponses et des coupables pour ce que tu n’as pas pu être ?

Je te donnerai la réponse lorsque…

(Ecrit par Laura Raicu, une chère amie)

Turns out,

I do have FAITH...
and I do have FRIENDS!


Ingrid Michaelson - Be OK

I Can Live

with or WITHOUT you.

Tonight

"I never took the train alone
I hated being on my own
I always took you by the hands
And say I need you...
I never wanted love to fail
I always hoped that it was real
I'd look you in the eyes
and said believe me!
And then the night becomes the day
And there’s nothing left to say
If there's nothing left to say
THEN SOMETHING'S WRONG.

And as the hands would turn with suns
I'd always say that I was yours
I'd turn and lend a smile,
To say that I'm gone.
But in a whisper I'd arrive
And dance into your life.
Like a music melody,
Like a lover's song."

Mess

Tomasso Albinoni-Adagio

“No music better conveys the agony of watching a loved one being slowly torn away from this life and the desolate finality of looking into his eyes and seeing the eternal void reflected there. It is a moment too terrible to contemplate and too awful to forget. Every resonance of it can be heard in this piece.”

Turns out,

... some girls can have all the luck, too! :)



later edit: turns out, some girls have only luck... not all of it, anyhow!

I Have Seen The Light

I have seen the light on Earth,
So I decided to be born,
To see how you're doing.
Healthy? Strong?
Are you happy?

Don't answer that, thank you.
I don't have time for answers,
I can barely have enough time for questions.

But I like it here,
It's warm and it's nice
And there's so much light
That I can see grass growing.
...
(Marin Sorescu - I have seen the light)

later edit: it's a translation I made, because I really like this poem.

Autumn Leaves

"The falling leaves drift by my window
The falling leaves of red and gold
I see your lips, the summer kisses
The sunburned hands I used to hold

Since you went away the days grow long
And soon I'll hear old winter's song
But I miss you most of all, my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall."


Eva Cassidy - Autumn leaves (jazz version)

I miss you most of all, my darling,
When autumn leaves start to fall...

Shining

Shining, thank you very much!



"Don't you let your demons pull you down... 'cause YOU CAN HAVE IT ALL!"

Three Favorite Movie Lines

for Cancer

'We all go a little mad sometimes.'
(Psycho)

'Only in the mysterious equations of love can any real logic be found.'
(A Beautiful Mind)

'I see dead people.'
(The Sixth Sense)

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

"Now I was sitting waiting wishing
That you believed in superstitions
Then maybe you'd see the signs...
But Lord knows that this world is cruel,
And I ain't the Lord, no I'm just a fool
Learning loving somebody don't make them love you.

Must I always be waiting waiting on you?
Must I always be playing playing your fool?"

Reality... Bites!!

Mrs Dalloway has come to cope with the fact that being a woman actually hurts, after having spent the last 6 hours trying to get some sleep while having hair curlers stuck to her head! And then, pretty soon, she'll start wearing some high heels because those are the ones that match the dress(es) she's going to wear at the religious ceremony and at the wedding party!
Well... I mean... if it's for a good cause... it's worth the sacrifice, right? :)
Meanwhile, all the best to the future newlyweds!


Shania Twain - From This Moment

We Die

"We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers of wisdom, characters we have climbed into as if trees, fears we have hidden in as if caves. I wish for all this to be marked on my body when I am dead. I believe in such cartography -- to be marked by nature, not just to label ourselves on a map like the names of rich men and women on buildings. We are communal histories, communal books. We are not owned or monogamous in our taste or experience. All I desired was to walk upon such an earth that had no maps."

(Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient)

Same as the Blues?

"She was still hugging the cat.
'Poor slob', she said. 'Poor slob without a name. It's a little inconvenient his not having a name. But I haven't any right to give him one, he'll have to wait until he belongs to somebody. We just sort of took up by the river one day, we don't belong to each other: he's an independent, and so am I. I don't want to own anything until I know I've found the place where me and things belong together. I'm not quite sure where that is just yet. But I know what it's like. [...] It's like Tiffany's', she said. 'Not that I give a hoot about jewelry. Diamonds, yes. But it's tacky to wear diamonds before you're forty; and even that's risky. They really look right on the really old girls. Wrinkle and bones, white hair and diamonds: I can't wait. But that's not why I'm mad about Tiffany's. Listen. You know those days when you've got the mean reds?'
'Same as the blues?'
'No', she said slowly. 'No, the blues are because you're getting fat or maybe it's because it's been raining too long. You're sad, that's all. But the mean reds are horrible. You're afraid, and you sweat like hell, but you don't know what you're afraid of. Except something bad is going to happen, only you don't know what it is. You've had that feeling?'
'Quite often. Some people call it angst.'"

(Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany's)

No Comment

"Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor.
Reaching for the phone cause, I can't fight it any more.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.
For me it happens all the time...

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now.
I said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now.
And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now."


Lady Antebellum - Need you now

The Heart Is An Organ Of Fire

"July 1936
There are betrayals in war that are childlike compared with our human betrayals during peace. The new lover enters the habits of the other. Things are smashed, revealed in new light. This is done with nervous or tender sentences, although the heart is an organ of fire.
A love story is not about those who lose their heart but about those who find that sullen inhabitant who, when it is stumbled upon, means the body can fool no one, can fool nothing - not the wisdom of sleep or the habit of social graces. It is a consuming of oneself and the past."

(Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient)


The English Patient

Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me

"You DO know what you're doing,
Babe, it must be ART..."