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Istia

La cultura svolge [...] una funzione morale e pedagogica,
permettendo all'uomo di elevarsi verso il divino,
grazie alle doti che gli sono proprie e attraverso l'educazione e gli studia humanitatis :
questi rappresentano un perficere e un exornare ,
nella misura in cui portano a compimento l'opera della nature,
be turning into a fully human man natural that
if you do not exercise "in a spiritual and moral virtue" becomes
"like a pig in ISTI, that jelly and drinks and sleeps."

San Bernardino da Siena

(quoted in R. MARCHESINI - S. TONUTTI, Manual zooantropologia, Roma, Meltemi, 2007, p.17)

vent After months of silence. An oddly liberating but to pay homage to my new home and my "new studies".

Good day to you all.

S.

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Io non ho paura?

I can not write because I have no time.
time to sit in silence, without haste, without distraction, leaving only soothed by my senses.
And then sometimes I'm afraid to write. Fear of offendere, di deludere, di essere giudicata.
Paura dei miei stessi pensieri. Paura di macchiare indelebilmente un foglio con le mie emozioni nascoste, seppur reali.
Le cose da scrivere ce le ho. Nella mia testa sono conficcati tanti pensieri più o meno belli.
Più o meno brutti.
E quando il cd ha cominciato a farsi leggere nel lettore e le parole sono uscite dalla televizsone, ecco che mi sono emozionata e ho pensato: "ma mi hanno rubato le parole dalla testa!"
E così le riscrivo pari a chi le ha incise su un foglio prima di me.


"Il problema è che abbiamo paura.
Basta guardarci.
Viviamo con l'incubo che da un momento all'altro tutto quello che abbiamo costruito possa distruggersi.
Con il terrore che il tram su cui siamo, possa deragliare.

Paura dei bianchi, dei neri, della polizia e dei carabinieri.
Con l'angoscia di perdere il lavoro.
Ma anche di diventare, calvi, grassi, gobbi, vecchi, ricchi.
Con la paura di perdere i treni, di non arrivare in orario agli appuntamenti.
Paura che scoppi una bomba, di rimanere invalidi, paura di perdere un braccio, un occhio, un dito, un dente, un figlio, un foglio.
Un foglio su cui avevamo scritto una cosa importantissima.
Paura dei terremoti, paura dei virus, paura di sbagliare, paura di dormire, paura di morire prima di aver fatto tutto quello che dovevamo fare.
Paura che nostro son to become homosexual, homosexuals to become ourselves.
Fear of the neighbor, fear of illness, fear of not knowing what to say, to have the soiled underwear at an important time.
Fear of women, fear of men, fear of germs, thieves, rats and cockroaches.
Fear of stink, to vote, of flying, fear of crowds, of failure, fear of falling, stealing, singing, people.
Fear of others. "

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we go!

Hello everyone!

After some months of adaptation and discussions will start with a new blog, a common area. Our loved ones and their My life outside the blog and cronopios Famas-stop, although he probably will soon post a greeting. See you soon on these frequencies!

M .

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test test test

In certain clear nights, when the moon was big, it's a party in the woods. It is impossible to determine precisely when, and there are no flashy signs that give notice. You can tell by something special on those occasions there is the atmosphere. Many men, most in fact do not realize it ever. Others feel the now. There is nothing to teach about it. It 'a matter of sensibility: some of nature possess it, others will not have anything, and pass impassive lucky on those nights, along the dark forest, without even suspecting what happens in there.

Dino Buzzati

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Effetto Lucifero.

" I tried to be another
I tried to be bad
I tried to be like that, like in the movies
I tried to be a ' age
No, you do not write, you think
...
I tried things that really is not convenient

But I have to tell us, so I'm just naive

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Did you know today is 11.1.11?

Now that I'm great,
I can do what I want?

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Nuovo inizio.

Sometimes I come early. Maybe I should
notes on pieces of paper, but I'm too lazy to do it.
And certainly not ice cold hands help me.
Maybe I should drink less coffee.
I come early because when I look at one thing, while the images are reflected on my eyes in my head form the beginning.
The beginning of a description.
As the first page of a book.
As the narrator of a film.
me are the beginning, but after a few lines suspended in the air and disperse because my attention is sometimes interrupted by the lady next to me who must at all costs not to utter words that Asolter but I'll just pretend listen with the nod and sometimes by the insistent ringing of the phone, which will be even more pressing when they continue to search for mixing in the bag, wallet, tissues, the mirror, and other things that I will remain unknown to the touch, sometimes by a sudden thought, as the outbreak of a light bulb, which reminds me that I forgot something.
I love it when I get in early because I seem to be a spectator at the cinema.

"Angela was wearing shorts, blacks. Maybe a little too risky for the winter season. And perhaps a little too risky even for the size of her thighs. She was wearing tights, which are also blacks, at least 15 denier.
wore all with great ease.
The knee-high boots, tan, did not give the idea of \u200b\u200bbeing comfortable footwear.
His hair, the Moors, who arrived in mid- back cover part of the faux-wool sweater. Angela
When she turned her right shoulder has dropped four inches. Then another step back and down to ten centimeters. Usually my dad told me that when a person had one leg shorter than the other and lean, a child could have had polio.
Once I had read about "people" and an article by a lady who had lived in an iron lung for polio. Most of her life lying in a box acciaiaio. Only the head off and could see the others because they had put over her face a mirror.
"Allola after it's up to individual adjustment, and then lagazzo fuoli Shop, then altla Single beds and then up to you, dear customer ".
These last two words, interspersed with ironic flattery made me laugh.
small shop in the damp smell was pungent.
large mirrors covering one wall, certainly not had been cleaned recently.
On the right, leaning to err, the hot curlers.
The two young workers and slender, standing, moving their hands and arms constantly.
In silence.
And every customer requirement was translated the guy sitting at the counter, from Italian to Chinese incomprehensible.
Within half an hour the store was rimepito ladies. Women of all ages, all skin colors and all lengths hair.
Surely Angela had worked late into the evening, the last day of the year ... "