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Letter to Roberto Benigni

Dear Robert,
but what you have to be crazy to do what I'm doing? Perhaps the insanity has nothing to do, but if it is madness that we're talking about, then I hope that the world is full of a little more crazy and less teachers. For me, I'm crazy about you to the nth degree, but very much so. Why I'm writing a letter on my blog do not know. Maybe because I know the weight of history will not forgive me for not having you never even devoted two lines, despite having been your contemporary perhaps because the real reason why I started writing in my head does not lie, but lies between the pulse of my heart, maybe because I did not sleep and have to deal in some way my time, or perhaps simply for the fact that for many years, when I come back to re-read the crap put down from time to time, I will not forget that you were an important person in my life. It may seem silly to say it, because I never even shook hands, but my soul is like an open book on which the various characters, from time to time, leave your signature, and yours is one that has been written with indelible ink. No way, not canceled.
Dear Robert, it is difficult to explain what happens when a person enters so powerfully in your life, gives a different reason and carrying a spring in your heart. And I think that a few years ago you were completely indifferent, almost unpleasant, but, after all, the greatest love stories are born when God, or whoever their fate, they decide to turn the spotlight on something that you had under your nose and from that moment on, begin to look with different eyes. I must admit that this time God has exaggerated: the light has struck my sight and, to quote Ungaretti, enlightened me of immense.
I think it's impossible to say what you mean to me and because you are my favorite artist ever. Would explain why every time, after we watched on TV, my eyes swollen with tears ... I do not know why! Trigger such strong emotions in me, that I feel to be living on a chill and be trapped in the mirror of dreams. When I hear your words, I feel this strange and wonderful feeling I had this car when I went to see the Pyramids in Egypt, when I felt a tiny lost in the immensity of such great magnitude! And do not believe that it is an unpleasant feeling of inferiority, by contrast, is one of the highest elevations of the human soul in an attempt to achieve happiness. At that moment, I felt at peace with myself, enchanted, enraptured, lulled by the magic. Like when a Bedouin, having spent several days in the desert without water, he sees a nearby waterfall, or as a castaway, who, after battling the raging sea, he landed on the mainland. Hunger, thirst, anger, grief, anger, jealousy, envy, disappear for a moment to leave the place at auction.
You made me love the Divine Comedy as only my mother had been able to do, you made me understand that they are not crazy to be in love with the poetry and life of triplets, metaphors and similes is wonderful. I love you as our beloved Dante and Virgil had loved as you loved him to Dante. Of artists like you are born once every five centuries!
shooting a comparison that you like very much to make him share the efficiency of magical abilities available to it: "It's like going to the pharmacy: two or three bars and drive away all the viruses."
Dear Robert, you're a raging river I dried the soil and waiting to be watered, you are the universe and I would like a little star to join.
Robert Caro, with your joy you have turned my nightmares in fairy tales, and with your courage, great courage that I read in your eyes as a child, you slammed my slumbering consciousness, you have awakened and have shouted that " the only way to realize their dreams is waking up. " You are a national asset
Roberto. But I say! World! We must take care of yourself, because you are the most representative symbol of modern Italy. Our country has produced the wonders of the universe: in Roman times we have given the world the Colosseum, the Divine Comedy in the Middle Ages, later science, art, pizza, happiness, Falcone and Borsellino. For posterity, the Italy of the twenty-first century will leave you, Roberto Benigni.
made me live sitting on the tip of a star, always waiting for something extraordinary, just like children waiting for the magic of the good magician in the world.
Can you let us make us laugh and cry at the same time, you dress up as a clown to do, in fun, statements that enclose the deeper meaning of life. Show such respect and adoration for such women, who must return to the time of stilnovisti be able to see such a thing. You're not afraid to take sides openly and defend your freedom and your rights.
The thing I probably admire most about you, but, dear Robert, is the light that shines in your eyes every time I hear you say "Italy", a whisper that for many it means nothing, but for us is a dream. Our past, our present and our future. Roberto, one of the reasons which lead me to love beyond measure this country are you!

Serena Verrecchia

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Crocodile

The Crocodile, editorial in the glossary, is a commemorative article , already packed, which is prepared for a public figure, and will be published on the occasion of his death.
I found this video a long time ago, and I prepared my crocodile, as well as the newspaper editors prepare the articles and keep them in stock, ready for when the time comes, I prepared for the day when I shut down this blog. Today.

The loose cannon is gone.
Thank you for the mess that has brought into my life, messed up everything, changing plans, making me angry, loving in his way.

I wonder if this district will retain the sound of his feet, the thousand stories that have crossed its streets, our family, the shop of his grandfather, and this life is so great and we are too small for it, just too small.
There was still a lot to say, do, to write, to think, but we have not had time, you're never prepared to leave, even when we know that has to happen.

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A Perfect Day

... Today is a perfect day, the sun announces the spring that low sun makes you squint your eyes, so beautiful you could cry too and no one eyelid.

Lovers stroll among the palms, between the boats and seagulls lazy cats doze watching the sea.

Today is a perfect day to buy 'A Thousand Splendid Suns', Hosseini; today.

Only today, this city seemed to me friend, companion, accomplice and a little pimp. The perfect days are rare, we must find them wisely. Today is a perfect day ... the rest does not matter.

They Put A Camera Inside

The vacuum each step

I fell, giving the arm, at least one million stairs

and now that you're not there is a vacuum at each step.

Even so it was about our long journey.

My hard still, no more, I need

connections, reservations,

traps, the scorn of those who believe

that reality is what you see

I dropped millions of stairs giving arm-face with perhaps not because it sees more.

With you I've got because I knew both of us

the only real eyes, though so blurred,

were yours.

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Imagine

When I was a teenager for a long time I thought that I designed and planned very serious on the ceiling of my room this design Escher, only the architectural and replacing the craters of a clear sky blue blue moved only a few clouds. I imagined him as I lay on the bed, and I'm still exploring ways to transfer the design on a small area very large and difficult to paint. In addition to the passage of time staring at a white ceiling laconically from which I should also eliminate the chandelier, was to overcome my reluctance to authorize it to perform an act considered unhealthy and the result of my temporary whim, exemplified by the phrase:

But you can not be content with posters of singers do your cousins?

Today I think that if I did I would feel a bit like this video ...

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Regina Spektor

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Precious

words: The Three scales

scale silk

The scale of Palazzo Mezzanotte

The scale of the Palazzo Grimani

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Dancing while the ship sinks

That : Guests of the room thirteen.

The room thirteen is the beginning of the corridor, a long white corridor where the room doors alternating on either side. In the room thirteen

it comes to phones, which should be kept always on, even at night, talking about going home, theories of flowering balconies from which you can see the sea. Sometimes he speaks of signatures, aggressive treatment of living wills, requests invalidity, expensive drugs and money are never enough. We speak of the everyday, and sometimes you insert an argument of 'new' newspaper. No one speaks of faith, we speak softly, often only one look is enough.

In Room Thirteen early dinner, dinner at five o'clock. While the radio transmits the mass, a plaintive dirge in the background, almost a ninnanna. In the room you eat just thirteen, a spoonful of porridge, ham cream and a taste of apple puree. The thirteen-room is very quiet ... appearance.

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Honey and morphine

words: tea with hawthorn, green dragons and pink elephants

The honey is a food produced by bees (and to a lesser extent, by wasps). It is produced from nectar and honeydew. Honeydew is produced by several Omotteri, fitomizi, whose sugary excrement are the staple food for many insects.

The morphine is an alkaloid found in the most immature capsule of Papaver somniferum. Is isolated from opium (latex derived from the incision of the unripe capsule of Papaver somniferum). By then the alkaloids are formed reticulin morfinanici which is part of the morphine. In particular, the morphine is derived from the demethylation of codeine.

The antibacterial activity of honey has long been known and is due to its high sugar and acid pH, and solution of honey, by the action of glucose oxidase contained. This enzyme is inactive in pure honey, is active in solution, transforming the glucose into gluconic acid and hydrogen peroxide. This arrangement is due to need to protect the honey in training by the bacteria, even when they do not act the acidity and concentration of sugars

Morphine may cause drowsiness and mental confusion, especially in the first days of therapy. At this stage, caution is advised when performing tasks that require the states of waking and constant coordination. In most patients when the dose of morphine and stabilizing effects on cognitive function are minimal.

Both make life sweeter ... today, the first trip.

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crazy crazy on a terrace

dance, dancing, dancing in my castle

dance, dance, dance

not m 'fall in love

dance, dance, dance masterpiece

what it is, what is (what any)

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Remains

I am often amazed at some coincidences, to tell her that does not ring true. This summer I posted

greetings to Mrs. Emma and today they are again talking about her.

As a child I was often at his home, and then even later, when I visited for the pleasure of drinking a coffee together. Then for a long time we said goodbye from the window, looking out her life spying on the neighborhood, the neighborhood and I attempt to open or close the shutters to go with the scooter.

If I was in the street and saw that there was much that could happen to call me with that little voice typical of grannies. I raised my eyes and I waved my hand and I saw her happy.

Today I passed and I met his nephew in the door, I waved and we stopped for a chat, and then asked me if I needed something more because the house is partially furnished and are unable to sell it. The big, old houses these days are out of business. The idea I liked, but did not have much time and so I handed the keys.

In the afternoon I went to look, the first thing I felt was getting the typical smell of old houses, I do not know how to explain it, but who has made us familiar with the case.

And then the empty the echo of empty houses or poorly furnished, large rooms where he was the sign of the furniture.

I went into the room to see where there was a mirror of Paris, wonderful bulldog-style empire that has left a mark of its passage, the two sister paintings of the grandparents of Mrs. Emma were the sides, marked the upholstery. I could not help but photograph to take away a piece of that fantastic story I had told Emma, \u200b\u200bas agreed and then I took some pieces of that terrible disaster. I'll take an old cabinet, which will be amended by a beautiful library-style '30s.

In the kitchen I found the CARAFFINI and strainer for tea, what we used in the afternoon I went by to visit and bring the pastry with apricot, and talked to my mother and she told me of my grandparents I had not known, and war and aunts when they were small. There are few objects, in which stumble daily and I will remember those hours spent together, and Mrs. Emma will be in my memories.

I went to the salon and I watched the delicate decoration of the ceilings, which mimics the palm trees, still beautifully preserved and perhaps never be able to review.

And then the details of that papier paint the late nineteenth century, reappeared under the sign of the mirror size and weight that was attached to the wall, and in this way preserve the original colors. Of course at that time had a very English taste. However I thought that if I were not living muterei almost nothing. Why these tears I find really fascinating about the past. We will come back a couple of times to remove the cabinet and perhaps to retrieve some other object. But even for giracchiare in empty rooms, where sometimes I see a clue, a nail, a shadow that reminds me of quando in quel luogo scorrevano le risate e la gioia.

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Salve Regina ... (Perhaps related to the previous post)

Ovvero : bestemmiata - mente

Salve, Regina,

Mater misericordiae,

vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve.

Ad te clamamus, exsules filii Evae,

ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes

in hac lacrimarum valle.

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of speaking in Milan and blasphemy

Nella I had lunch with my mother when I arrived and I did not want to wake dozing. She had a drip of something I read the name and I wanted to look on the internet but then I forgot ... it was written in close farmachese.

I was there to fix the cabinet and the table, and then looked at me are a little bit. So without thinking about nothing in particular. I do not sit, but I take off my coat because there is a hot and lazy sun filters through the curtains.

When she woke up she asked me to close the drip because it was over. Since I could not stay too I told her where I put things clean so that it can find them easily. I talk a little bit of new book that I brought. She updated on the news of his life. During the night her roommate died, the bed is still on the tag name: Marisa F. Maybe a nice old lady, that I must have seen a couple of times.

As we speak the replacement arrives, a lady accompanied by a little disheveled daughter. Talking in Genoa and make friends right away. Joins the conversation, the neighbor across, yet she likes to talk in Genoa and never misses an opportunity to tell us from which quarter arrives and confirms the story that night were a little upset the quiet of the room.

Only when I leave I realize that my mother, all the time, I spoke in Milan.

And this is new is that, because the dialect they spoke Laveno is intended for her sisters and brothers, never, never, none of them used it to contact us, children, grandchildren, cousins, husbands or wives. Never even when they were angry. A family limited vocabulary, as always, to their exclusive clan.

This change makes me a little anxious, and irritated me so that I can not help but whisper a curse passing in front of the huge statue of the Virgin Mary, who rules with his blue presence, the atrium of the building. And while I never thought it could happen to curse, now that has happened I wonder why
later I felt a great sense of liberation? As I look
lobby, I notice a discreet sign indicating the direction of the mortuary. Written a vintage, slightly faded. I intend to go for a ride cognitive, sooner or later. On the first ramp intersection ZiaOnesta that is going up, we exchange the news quickly, I see your eyes sparkle. We salute you in a hurry, and promised a phone call in case of other updates. And then when I go out I remember a kind of nursery rhyme that my grandmother told me when I visited, and did the circle.
It was more or less like this.

Arlechin go to Qatar on copy

vovi the red red

vovi no ghe Jera
Arlechin be par tera
El rot if culada
and I know mama meza meza el mata
giustaghe bus to the cul

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Brooke Fraser - Something In The Water Diversions

That means the my funeral song.

And yes, today I happened to think of the soundtrack I want to say goodbye. And I thought that I would like this one. Just call it the other way, do you know the details ... Good weekend.

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road and want to ruin Liuk

scooter When I walk in, if I do the usual way, indicate the path that I do, the crossings, junctions, at least the major ones. I see a couple of directions that will take and then I go into automatic. The other day I left I was lost in thought, I had to do a few errands in the center, go to the office and then go to the colourist to pick up the paint. I was going in a definite direction, little traffic, the sun low in certain curves that forces you to squint. Minding my own business, and I think that very often I do not orient with traffic signals, but with a detail that I find on the street, a silly detail, like, after the house with broken blinds, turn immediately right, continuing or c ' is a store with the orange sign and turn left. Needless to say, the combined Persian is repaired or replaced the sign for me to lose the cross.
As I followed all these details, I realize that I have come and how lucky I find a place in front of the green door with polished brass handles. I take off my helmet, I realize to be the ZioGi doorstep.

At this point one would think: well, so much that you do not see the ZioGi, and perhaps an unconscious desire to talk to him. Now that you're here tantovale you visiting.
considerable detail, is the fact that the ZioGi been dead for a couple of years and in that house there is not any more. I look up at the balcony of the kitchen, where my cousin with the targeted car step with the spitting. Instead of white geraniums are large rectangular planters with LingueDiSuocera. The usual dairy
doorstep, but it's still there, the one where the latch ZioGi read the Sunday paper and we bought it with lemon steccalecca stick of licorice. I take this opportunity to have a coffee, I note that the management has changed and they took the old ice-cream fridge that was beside the window. Riacchiappo the scooter and returns to my destination, which is across town.
But before I looked very carefully in the mirror of the scooter and I said:
Sure ... you're not so normal, and then instead of you should take a coffee Lolly.

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growing

That : post-style BimboVerde.

Those who have read the post about MuccaRossa can understand me.

And some in the audience might say - it's true, everybody knows, is scientific, there is evidence.

And the prosecutor would say - ask to put on record the test A.

And the defense attorney controribatterà: - My client is currently in the middle of his mental faculties.

And a witness may swear to that - I've seen him spend the lunch break harassing LaMuccaRossa.

And the Judge will say - I ask that is shown to the jury the prosecution at trial, where it is clear that the accused had an affair with a cow, when the facts , was still a minor.

and I can say - I appeal to the clemency of the court.

Compendium 8.00:

defense contends that the trial B is headed, where we see clearly that at the time, the advertisement suggested the accused to be accompanied by a cow.

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The Alien (L. Madonia)

Vago per la strada
In cerca di occasioni nuove
Ma non mi basta mai quello che vedo
Passo tra gli odori
E tra gli umori della gente
Che mi sfiora indifferente
Coglo l’occasione
Di una serata al mare
Dell’aria un po’ confusa per colpa del calore
Io seguivo con lo sguardo
L’onda sulla spiaggia
Che arriva sempre uguale e tutto si ripete
E tu, tu non mi basti più
Io sono solo in questa vita
E forse come te mi sento
Io vivo nei panni di un alieno che non vola
Che non mi assomiglia ma
Io vivo ai margini di una vita vera
E non mi riconosco
Ho speso la mia vita
Assecondando le mie voglie
Che spesso I have betrayed you fly like leaves
And you, you I am nothing more
I am only in this life
And maybe I feel like you
I live in the shoes of an alien who does not fly And I do not recognize

I live in the shoes of an alien who does not fly
That does not look like me but
I live on the edge of a real life And I do not recognize

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If you come with me, three versions for an evergreen

This song is the link to the movie Sister Act of 1992, I had seen the movies and I liked it a lot, and I always thought this song was a some sacred chant recovered and adapted to film.

But no, in the meantime I found an advertisement placed in the Italian version of the '60s, really dialogues of the past, for a song that apparently has bewitched generations and that is everything except a hymn.

And for the latest version in French, needless to say I find both the best and then sung by a beautiful coachmen biondoPlatino is always a nice feeling.

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The red cow

pious love you ox, and a mild
feeling of vigor and infuses peace to my heart, O solemn

You look like a monument to free fields and fruitful, bowing to the yoke
O happy
The agile deed of the second man seriously:
Ei t'esorta and bites you and you co 's Tour de
slow eye patients respond. E
serious eye glaucous within the austere
Sweetness is reflected broad and serene
The divine green silence of the floor.

Compendium of 10.30 by Teti900 .

PS: note the questioning look, he always does when he meets someone who does not know. E 'shy.

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Good Week Seven and Good Morning

Good morning, good morning!

We talked all night,

Good morning, Good morning to you Good morning Good morning

is good to be up late

Good morning, good morning to you.

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or nothing

This game of seven things about themselves, which has undergone Miwako is one thing that I find interesting, because it makes me reflect on many aspects of my life that is often neglected.
As for the 18 questions, this game could become the mood of the week, seven things about myself and then a per day. I collect and modify it, to use diligence, but without preference for the final blog ...

Monday: the Moon, represents the sensitivity, creativity and intuition, also affects our emotional state and how we feel. Monday was the day of choir practice, the period and slightly more pleased that I can remember. I was good at getting lost in a fantasy world during practice and when we sang for the first time a piece of Palestrina in the vaults of the Romanesque basilica of San Gavino in Porto Torres, I was firmly convinced that he had heard the sound of heaven. Even today I remain in a trance for a couple of hours listening back to those recordings.

Tuesday: Mars represents action, energy, determination, ambition. I was really a Martian when I thought I worked hard for a whole year to build a future in the studio overlooking the sea, so enthusiastic and determined to believe that it would be my future. Even today, harking back time with a smile, disillusioned, but I believed and I think I did a lot of good. Benefit that reappears every now and then, when I have a thousand things to do, little time and many distractions.

Wednesday : Mercury, represents the intelligence, cunning, eloquence, quick to act. I do not often feel smart, but I happen to catch me thoughtful and farsighted. Two features that I think will give me great peace of mind in the future. In spite I happen to find people in a certain superficiality of living, that makes me sometimes feel they have something extra. A bit like in DiavoloVestePrada when the secretary has already sent the twins to travel on the train that takes them from her grandmother, the novel of HarryPotter.

Thursday: Jupiter rules expansion, optimism, philosophy, social and religious order, justice, morality, attracts positive events necessary for the success and achievement. Here in these areas now there's a lot of confusion, and I would say that Jupiter is not doing a good job. I very often feel they do not have a future, all make mistakes, to have started a phase of irreversible self-destruction and to be in complete anarchy. In short, against Jupiter.

Friday: Venus, the planet of love and feelings. And here begin Rogne, some months are Firmly convinced that he does not know how to love, love is a feeling that, in addition to scare me, I think that given to any other. So the argument aside willingly, perhaps waiting for a fact that can suddenly change my mind, but I think as rationally as having passed the stupidera you take in the short stretch of life that goes dall'attimo where you think you are in love and one in which you realize that it was all charm. Even against Venus.

Saturday: Saturn that is a symbol of restriction of the individual, understood as a renunciation and solitude. I recently re-evaluated and the loneliness they felt no longer that fear that made me until a few years ago. It will be that the hours spent alone are operating hours, at which the intrusion of someone is often unwelcome. I fear only too used to it and then not being able to appreciate the company. For Saturn, perhaps.

Sunday : Earth gives a sense of duty, responsibility and reliability. And this thing I have always pursued, and when I studied when I was working around. The problem is that too often I found that to be punctual and reliable, have initiative and problemsolving skills, does not always pay, and because after all I have a character that requires confirmation and gratification when I see that my efforts are not recognized and does not lead to tangible improvements, persevere for a while, but then I became a rock and subtle piece of shit.