Numero 20 - Hoplessness

Italy's main problem is corruption.

Italy is the second most corrupted country in Europe, the first is Greece.

Reading the papers everyday, hearing lies everyday from the media, the governament... makes eveyone as if we're freezing in a long, endless tunnell...

Numero 19- Edge

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BR7Ql3A9_3I



Had lovely pasta with tuna! <3
Made it too much though, I had to throw half of it in the bin!

The link below is a video by a girl who made a brilliant interpretation of the poem written by Sylvia Plath, Edge.

I have recently been reading The Bell Jar and I found it interesting, even fundamental to really understand most of her poetry.

Numero 18 - Scazzed

This is one of my World Sucks moments, so please run away if you don't feel in the mood of sharing it with me!

I feel bad again...because nothing works here, because every effort honest people make in Italy will be wasted by a not honest culture, by decieveness (will that be a word? Oh, can't be bothered to check it on the online dictionary!), by the bad example of our Prime Minister and the Governament which totally murder any dream of equality and evolution.

I was talking with my mum about generations...

My generation can't wait leaving forever this country. And the thing is, we don't even hate our culture, our roots, our habits (our food!)... it's just that we can't trust any of the Heads, any of the leaders, because they'll be corrupted for sure. What's the point in staying here?

And what's the point in studyig law, if powerful people just don't respect it or create it as it suits them in the easiest way to solve their own problem?

Today, just before writing here, I was thinking: "I am studying law because I'll make people respect it".

Hahahahahaha dreams...

in Italy dreams never become true...

Unless you are the Prime Minister's lover, or you join a reality show, or you are looking forward to giving yourself to an old, yellow almost-dead man.

But my morality wouldn't allow me doing that. :\

Numero 17 - Sunday

Sunday.

Lazy, fat, domestic Sunday. I often spend my Sundays wearing my jammies and studying all day with a cup of tea on my desk. Shops are closed, everyone's at home with the whole family, the whole world is silent and desolate. I am more a Saturday person :) I love chaos in the streets, new faces on the way, long, happy nights.

But today my parents and I went out for lunch and stuffed ourselves with anything eatable on the way: delicious ham, salame and mozzarella cheese as a starter, pasta with cream and lemon, nice and soft meat with apple and nuts -ç- ... oh, and a delicious chocolate roll with orange's cream. I am not what you'd call an Italy Fan, but I can't deny that our cult for food really is something special :)

Oh, I don't know why I keep on posting this random pictures. Like this one! They're all taken by me... .

The thing is that I can't be bothered taking pictures of any single thing happens in my life just in order to show other people what I do. "Why the hell do you keep a blog???" you could say... well, I don't know! I am kind of against this reality-on-web blogs where people just show their life and become famous without having any real talent... .

Numero 16 - Romeo and Juliet

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yePTx_Q79yQ


"Juliet, the dice was loaded from the start,
and I bet
and you exploded in my heart
and I forget... you know the movie songs
When are you going to realize it was just that the time was wrong? Juliet...."

Numero 15 - Pull

Uff.

I suppose keeping a blog is making an effort in patience and constancy.

But exams are finally OVER and I'll have more free time to post here!

These are the photos of last Saturday! I love pull, even though I am really bad with it. I learnt how to play when I was in Scotland, in an old, scubby pub.

I wonder why photography has become so popular in the last 2, 3 years. Maybe I was too young to notice it before, haha.

I actually think that one reason is the growing popularity of blogs, and the necessity to communicate everyday feelings with few, simple words. A photo can be vibrant of feelings, and it doesn't need any effort to watch it.

The bad thing of being a photographer is that you never appear in pictures. And despite all the rumours about photographers hating being photographed, I actually like looking myself through a picture!

Taking photoes at myself just like every blogger on earth does, is out of question. I feel so stupid and self-centerd and not natural...

Numero 14 - Asian food to fight the hangover

I woke up with the horrible sensation of being into a sinking ship. I went to this pub at the centre yesterday night, just a couple of hours to relax and not thinking about exams, but tiredness and an empty stomach made my medium beer the most dangerous poison ever.

I don't generally hold out alchol that much, but not as piteously!

At 12.oo everything was spinning so fast that I had to sit and eventually lay in bed for an hour. I woke up feeling veeeery hungry, so I had miso soup and lovely chinese noodles. Didn't take a picture of them because I was too hungry!

Now... I've got to wait for the hangover to cease. If it doesn't in half an hour I'll probably try with coffee, it always works.

Numero 13

I got it after the show. Ever heard about "six characters searching for an author"? Bloggers are characters, writers are authors... it's so simple.

Numero 12 - Meditating

I have recently been thinking about what a blogger is. I came to the conclusion that bloggers and writers are substancially different, different in souls. I have a blog, but this does not make me a blogger. I am a writer, even though I've never published a book in all my life.

But you see, a real blogger is someone who wants to share his life with others on internet, a writer is someone who wants to share his thoughts, feelings and immagination through other characters.

Writers can be boring sometimes, bloggers are never.

Interests are different: one follows the beauty of words and language, the transparence of expressions, the other uses words to accompany photos and pictures.

No one's better than the other.

Everyone looks for the best way to spend time.

Numero 11 - What?/Mmmh/Eheh!

Who cares about who got the arm of the bronze statue if it "accidentally" melted with the body?

Romans had such stupid laws! (right, I don't actually think it...).

Oh, and that's not me. It's my lovely friend Irene, wearing Cleopatra's make-up and clothes for a Roman & Greek Party.
Pictures taken by me <3 .

Numero 10

A few pictures of my friends Lorna and Silvia when they came over for the night...a few weeks ago.

I wish I could post everyday. I have bloody exams in a week, and I am fucking stressed.

Numero 9

I haven't been writing here for ages!
University totally absorbed every single drop of free time.

But I enjoy it! ^_^

Remember how I was desperate before starting it, thinking I would have become a "respectable, snobby, stuck up girl"?
People are ok, some of them are really snooty, (especially girls) but some of them are really nice people.
They all wear really cool stuff, most of them are quite rich. I'll never understand those who wear Hogan shoes though... I find them so ugly!
Well, basically all I do is spending my time with the "right people"... the nice ones :) teachers are great and so are the studies and I can easily conciliate my dreamer side with the strict personality of the subjects.

Well, got to go. I have to be out of the house in... mmh 30 minutes. And I'm still in my jammies!

I know it's late now, but still I want to link a documentary made by my friend Lorna about the Berlin wall. It's really stirring.
Watch it and be ready to cry.... bye.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ygkAz-ljkA

Numero 8 - Sylvia Plath

Name: Sylvia Plath
Profession: Poet



LADY LAZARUS


I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it--

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?--

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot--
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart--
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash--
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there--

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr god, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

Numero 7

Name: Marco Travaglio

Profession: Journalist

Age: ?

This man is legend!

He's one of the best journalists ever in Italy, and it's really rare for those who work in the politics field to emerge when they are so young.

The demonstration against censorship the 3rd October was amazing... if you've ever been in Rome you'll know for sure Piazza del Popolo: it's a huge square very close to the Spanish Steps. Well, that square was so full of people that I couldn't even walk toward the middle as I was totally squeezed in the border.

Students were screaming with megaphones in their hands, big provocative banners were constantly waved by untiring guys.

On the white stage arranged for the occasion, famous italian singers, actors and journalists were announcing their dissense about Berlusconi's politics.

A few time ago the newspaper "La Repubblica" asked to our prime minister 10 questions. Here I'll report the most interesing ones:

- When and where were you introduced to Noemi Letizia (a young girl that apparently calls him "daddy", and who is suspected to be one of his "lovers") and do you frequent more under age girls?

- What's the reason for which you lied for two months giving to the media 4 different explenations about how did you know Noemi?

- Don't you think it's weighty that you rewarded with candidacies the escort girls that called you "daddy"?

- You were with a prostitute the night of the 4th November, and many girls have come to your house. Did you know they were prostitutes?

- Your behaviour contraddicts your politics: could you still partecipate to the Family Day or sign a law that punish a prostitute's cusotmer?

Berlusconi never answered to these questions, but brought action against them and the whole newspaper.

Numero 6

Today I have the pleasent sensation of feeling the future in my hands.
Uni is going to start in a week.
I have been enjoying Spetember doing nothing, a part from writing and occasionally helping my parents with houseworks.
I don't know why am I so enthusiastic about starting my new life. All my friends miss alredy the old one, the times back to high school, when we could be as silly as we wanted without having any real responsibility. Maybe it's because I am going for the first time to take choices for myself only. I've always hated planning, but now I can't stop thinking about myself one day, in five or six years, with a good degree and the same stong will of helping people with my job.
It's not going to be easy, that's why I am afraid that all this enthusiasm will collapse veeery soon, at the sight of big, thick books lying on my desk.
I have problems in concentrating. It often happened, when I was in high school, that even if I enjoyed the subject I was studying, suddenly I found myself staring at a vague point outside the window. Maybe I wasn't born to be a diligent student, maybe I was born to be an artist.

I don't believe in the concept of justice, even though I am going to study law.
The fact is that justice is not a universal principle, but a human invention, which is necessary only inside the society, that is when human beings decide to join each other and create a convenient community.
Everything can be right as long as be wrong, to the universe's eyes.
Sometimes it feels like nothing is worth it, sometimes it feels like we have to put efforts in what we do in order to give sense to our senseless life.

Numero 5 - Baby Art

Name: Trevor Brown
Profession: Artist


You may hate this artist as long as you may love him.
His name is Trevor Brown, and he's callously cruel with his characters! Give a look to his pictures, and you'll find pretty, innocent babydolls being dismembered, hanged, punched, raped, teared to pieces in a terrific, sadic show.
I personally love his art, even though sometimes I find it hard withstanding for long to some of his images. Blood, violence, nazi swasitkas and women masturbating themselves. Genial ideas and great ability in painting, but I can't help it, I am one of
those bigoted persons that supports the good characters in movies and likes happy endings!
Trevor Brown anyway is a genious but not a deviated mind! He affirms that the cruelty of some of his ideas in fact derives from a marked irony. That's what I like most about him, maybe because it's a quality (or anyway a whole way of seeing things) completely different form mine.

I saw this picture (the one on the right) on an exhibiton in Rome, and I was really, really striked by the originality of the whole idea.
The irony is probably hidden behind the raspberries! You watch the picture and you're like: "Oh my GGGod, there's blood running on her mouth!!!!", but then you suddenly realize it's just raspberry juice, and immediatly relax and smile. Since I have a huge passion about Japan, I also can't help beeing a big supporter of all those artists who take inspiration from that magnificent country!
Here's the link of his site, give it a look and be ready to laugh/cry/being in love/being disgusted by the genial, creative art of this man!


http://www.pileup.com/babyart/

Numero 4 - Twiggy

Name: Twiggy
Profession: model
Height: 1,67
Weight: 43 Kg

She was the first woman ever to wear a miniskirt. Actually, miniskirts were invented right for her character, to suit her "skinnyness".

Although there are different kinds of beauty, and women with generous curves should never ever doubt of their luck, I don't agree with those people who find her ugly because of her "twiggy" body...

Numero 3 - Revolution!

Looking forward to join the demonstration against censorship the 3rd of October...

Numero 2

Indignation.
I don't think it would ever happen abroad, in a country that is considered by the constitution and the public opinion a "Democratic Republic".
Not in a civil country, not with educated people.
But it did, it happened.
Censorship. I think that's the right word to use, when your prime minister doesn't want newspapers, tv channels, any media to talk about his own mistakes.
The Tv program "Ballarò", which has never namely liked Mr. Berlusconi, was deleted to cede its place to "Porta a Porta" (litterally: "Door to Door") whose our beloved prime minister was the principal guest. He first started to talk about Abbruzzo, the italian region where a terrible earthquake destroyed the city of Pescara just this summer. He said it was completely reconstructed thanks to the brand new system he personally invented: an exchange of turns among the builders so that they could work even during the night! He's always had the sad habit to make shine every single idea he plans, even though they are the scabbiest and the most common ever. I mean, any IDIOT would have established that in case of emergency builders and volunteers should have worked also during the night with an exchange of turns. But Mr. Berlusconi-I-am-your-God has got a special faculty to make himself the genious of the year.
The worst is ready to come. Soon the Abbruzzo topic revealed itself for what it really was: a promotion for himself and his party.
And he deleted for one night the enemy Tv program to be sure that in the whole country nobody would have heard a word against him! It sucks, it violates the natural rights of a Democracy.

I don't want my future to grow up here.

Someone help us, please!

Numero 1

Rain.
September.
Depression.
In my country September is commonly seen as a start. It's the month in which students come back to school, shops open again from their long holiday, life spreads its lazy wings to a new, speedy cycle.

This is my first year doing nothing in September.
University will start in October, and I am ready to loose the small, tiny bit of personality that still lies in me, to become a "respectable" person into our hypocritical society.
Law.
Nobody likes people who study law, and maybe I don't like them either. Maybe I'll become exactly the person I don't want to be.
But when I went to university to get information, one of the teachers said something that made me think. He said that if we read the newspapers everyday and have critics to make to our politics, opinions about our society, then it's going to be "a seed growing into a fertile ground". Because Law doesn't actually work, at least in my country.
Well, I get angry with the newspapers everyday.
Our Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi makes join the elections only those girls who spend the night with him, and all the shit he does is censured as he owns most of the tv channels.
Vatican keeps on locking the doors of progress.
Immigrants are accused and treated everyday as the worst scabby criminals on earth.

Yeah, I do have critics to make to our society.
I don't want to study law to become a rich, selfish person. I do want things to change, but avoiding the ugly face of our system in order to protest won't actually help.

I chose to ride the wave.