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01/12/2005 E' UFFICIALEHo spostato il mio blog su Mo'time (cliccate qui per vederlo)
I've moved my blog to Mo'time (if you wanna visit it, please click here)
Cmq quando posso continuerò a visitare i vostri blog, e se vi va lo stesso di passare a trovarmi, io ne sono felicissima. Il nuovo blog è tutto in inglese, ma se volete potete senza problemi postare in italiano.
Un abbraccio...ci vediamo su Mo'time!!!!!
PS: se potete linkate sul vostro blog il mio nuovo indirizzo...io aggiungerò i vostri!  30/11/2005 traslocoGente, vi comunico che credo che mi trasferirò presto su splinder. Però lì ho intenzione di scrivere tutto (o quasi) in inglese. Spero verrete cmq a trovarmi, l'indirizzo è http://col-ide.motime.com. Per ora ci sono solo gli stessi post che ci sono qui, ma lo amplierò presto. 27/11/2005 Truth doesn't make a noiseA foggy day makes me think about the truth. What is it? And where is it? Does it belong to anybody?
Someone said:
“Don’t you both know that there are three truths? […] One truth is what your own perception is, the other truth is what the collective perception is, and the third truth is THE truth, the only one that cannot bend and is constant for as long as the object, feeling, emotion or instance lasts, this is the truth that only God knows, and that we only pretend to comprehend.” (III)
Is this the solution? I suppose there isn’t a solution, so… what am I supposed to say about that? Actually, is there somebody REALLY in search for the truth itself? Or are we all just trying to figure out our own “truth”, the one that better fits our interests and goals? Once, when I was talking with my uncle, he said me he loves history books, ‘cause they’re the only ones that say something true, something that really happened. The only thing I could reply was: oh, dear. I mean, how can he still believe that history books are true, that they can seriously reflects reality as it is, or was?1? But what should I have said to him? Maybe that only religion is truth? Or philosophy? Or probably science? None of them, I simply DON’T KNOW what is true or what it isn’t, I can’t trust in anyone of those “beliefs”: since they’re all artificial, they can’t be the Truth. That’s the only truth I know. 26/11/2005 Everybody HurtsWhen the day is long and the night, the night is yours alone,
When you're sure you've had enough of this life, well hang on. Don't let yourself go, everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes. Sometimes everything is wrong. Now it's time to sing along. When your day is night alone, (hold on, hold on) If you feel like letting go, (hold on) When you think you've had too much of this life, well hang on. Everybody hurts. Take comfort in your friends. Everybody hurts. Don't throw your hand. Oh, no. Don't throw your hand. If you feel like you're alone, no, no, no, you are not alone If you're on your own in this life, the days and nights are long, When you think you've had too much of this life to hang on. Well, everybody hurts sometimes, Everybody cries. And everybody hurts sometimes. And everybody hurts sometimes. So, hold on, hold on. Hold on, hold on. Hold on, hold on. Hold on, hold on. (repeat & fade) (Everybody hurts. You are not alone.) R.E.M. 23/11/2005 In the redToday it's a red sunny day. I'm listening to my brand new red vinyl and in the meanwhile I'm singing red words. My red trousers have been washed and are waiting to be dried by the cold sun of this red day. I don't like red apples. I do like red wine. Everywhere are red leaves (oh, well…isn't that the autumn?!) that form a red carpet on the ground, around the trees. A red cup with coffee and no sugar is waiting for me on the table, but I’m sill not prepared for this. My eyes are becoming red.The HTML code for red is FF0000…what a stupid code! I can't use a red pen to fill the application form, but someone uses it to correct mistakes. That's weird. 22/11/2005 A proposito dei PixiuThe Pixiu (貔貅; 拼音：pí xiū) is also known as the Tianlu (Heavenly Salary) and Bixie (Wards off Evil). It is a magical beast in ancient Chinese mythology with a dragon's head, a horse's body, a qilin's feet, and the overall shape of a lion. Its fur is greyish-white, and it can fly. The Pixiu is fierce and a good fighter, and likes sucking the blood or essence of demons and converting it into wealth. It is tasked with patrolling the heavens and stopping demons and diseases from causing chaos. One version of the legend identifies the Pixiu as the 9th son of the Dragon.
In ancient times, 'the Pixiu' was also used as a synonym for an army (because of its ferocity). One legend does that the Pixiu broke one of the rules of Heaven, and was punished by the Jade Emperor by restricting its food to the wealth all around the world. It could swallow wealth without ever having to defecate. This ability to gain wealth without letting it out was auspicious enough for many Chinese to use jade carvings of the Pixiu as ornaments even today. Typical representations of the Pixiu:
21/11/2005 La partenza #3Leaving isn’t that easy. But I’m not brave as they think I am. I just don’t have anything to lose, anything to be sorry about, anything to fear for. I just have hope on my baggage, lost between thousands of silly things I need to survive – such as paper, nail polish, music, gloves, pictures, earrings, socks… I hope I will be able to say something. 你好。我叫朱丽亚。我想去那儿…… 20/11/2005 martiri per la patriaOggi sono stata in quel di Asiago a visitare un museo a cielo aperto della Prima Guerra Mondiale, con tanto di trincee ricostruite - o meglio, restaurate - cimiteri e baracche. Wow, un monumento a quelle migliaia di poveracci che sono stata mandati al macello in una guerra in cui i governanti dell’epoca hanno spinto un’Italia altamente impreparata, nonostante il forte dissenso popolare (…ma guarda te, chissà come mai tutto questo mi ricorda qualcosa…). E ora li chiamano martiri, eroi della patria. Loro che non avevano manco il pane per sfamarsi, figurarsi se potevano permettersi di rifiutare il servizio militare. E figurarsi quanto combattevano per “difendere la patria”. Un’intera brigata di sardi (la Brigata Sassari) trucidata sul cucuzzolo di un monte vicino ad Asiago…quando l’hanno detto alle madri e alle fidanzate, quelle manco sapevano dove fosse Asiago, o che faccia avessero gli austriaci che ci accanivamo tanto a combattere. Historia magistra vitae? Non credo proprio. A qualcuno seduto in comode poltrone di velluto, la storia non è servita proprio ad un bel niente. Che amarezza. |
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