ROMEO & JULIET



I have a dream...
... no body is dreaming it for me, tho
therefore it can't be real...
... u need to be 2 to make a dream real
dreaming together is reality...
... dreaming alone is port and cigarettes
and I can fall only for chain of gold...
... chain of silver is not shining enough
I can't do the talk like they do on tv...
... I don't wanna be that banal
I'm reaching for the moon...
... and the moon keep her sky
and doesn't move down...
... and doesn't look at me
perhaps it's better like this...
... but I'm in pain,
pain for the man of the moon..
...and my broken heart
cries silent tears of hope...
... and all I do is kiss u through the bars of a rime
and dream my dream for u...

CAMBRIDGE

How many post did I already write with this title? millions probably... who cares?
God didn't save Italy, but saved me! I'm back, determined to rock this term! amazing how only 5 weeks made me forget I much I love staying up until 1 am (when early) chatting with friends, and then walking in the rain and get all shining; rolling down hill to sansbury; going to the buttery; walking through Fitz feeling as home as I've never felt; laughing a lot; playing darts in the bar; decorating my room; unpacking with the feeling of being starting sth new and yet great; checking facebook hundreds times in half an hour... and so on... I simply love Cambridge!!! what more can I say?!
nothing, Cambridge says everything.
glad to be back!

ELECTIONS...

Elections should be the way in which citizens of a country express their preference and somehow influence the destiny of the nation. Is it really like that? Not in Italy. Here the main concern is on how to fire the same old, fake faces from our tv screens... here people get over-excited when somebody suggests a good strategy for making the next government last as less as possible and possibly showing those guys that everybody in Italy is tired of them. Encouraging.
Democracy should be the type of government in which people (demos..) govern, and make decision. In Italy, politicians are separated ethnic group, with it's own rules and it's own conception of reality, which is always slightly different from everybody else's point of view. Politicians are the only ones in the whole country that earn an awful lot of money without working, the only ones who still smiles and think that the future is pink. They don't share anything with the rest of the country, I might say they are not Italian.
But coming back to Elections. Choice is between a young good catholic guy who still kisses the hand of the Pope and Mr. Berlusconi who no more than 20 minutes ago proudly affirmed that Italian magistrates have brought 91 actions against him on courts. (at least half of which for corruption). Those bastards. Now, what am I supposed to do? Do we have a solution, or are we condemned to be governed by these people? Is there a way of escaping this (apart from getting a british citizenship right now..) or is this gonna last for ever?
who knows... 24 hours to the elections... God save Italy

THE GLASS MENAGERIE

Tonight and only tonight, thanks to the wonderful job of Tennessee Williams and Josh, I realized how much have I changed.. and what a beautiful person I've become. It's not a matter of arrogance, just of self consciousness. I used to be a sort of mixture between the shy desperation of Laura Wingfield and the boiling anger/boredom of her brother. I used to see the world through a gigantic glass menagerie. I used to cry. Now, I'm over it, I'm alive. Now I can sit in a theatre and watch all of it and feel distant, free. I'm out, running in the wind, feeling the sun on my skin, knowing that I'm alive. I am a full, autonomous person. That doesn't mean I'm not crashing into every possible mistake ever, no, but this mean I'm happy to crash into mistakes and not terrified of living anymore.
When I came out of the theatre earlier, I was truly happy and walked up castle mound and looked the world down and felt incredibly powerful. The wind was blowing me away, Cambridge under me was shining of lights and history, and I knew this is my place. This is the place I belong to. It was just waiting for me. Or maybe I was waiting for Cambridge to open my mind and heart and blow away the curtain of depression above my eyes. And I, well I sounded my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world.

I thought it was over.
It was not.
I thought I was safe.
I was not.
I thought I won myself.
I had not.

I am still, or perhaps, once again,
on the edge of the gorge,
completely alone,
struggling to keep myself up.

Nobody but me can help,
nobody,
and I have not the strength to win
to stay up.
I am slowly sliding down.
down
down
down

BEPE'S BACK!!!

Back to reality.. back to myself!! oh joy... I am still the old clumsy loser, still the same inveterate dreamer, still Bepe. Despite the appearances, I'm glad of it. Found my self desperately trying to understand other people by supposing they are like me... found myself walking alone imagining situations that will never happen... found myself happy with that!! and yet, if I was confused by the language, I found out that people are the same all over the world, different cultures maybe, but same fears and dreams, if I trust my abilities I still can project myself in other people's mind and understand them without translation and treasure what I've found. I still can do it!!! I have not lost that gift, perhaps my only one... that makes me happy.
That doesn't mean I'll obtain what I'm struggling for, nor that will use my gift to surprise people as I have done in the past... no, this time I'll keep it as my last resource, I deserve to be valued for other features. Still getting to know that I haven't lost my identity make me feel home. Welcome back Bepe...

DREAMS.....

Once again I need the help of Sigmund Freud to try to give a sense to my twisted psyche... once again, I realize he's damn dead.. so once again I ask people to listen to my weird, silly dreams and give them some kind of interpretation... ready? here it is:

PREMISE: (mmm... being this a public space I won't use real names, and indeed I don't think they matter that much...) Friday night I drunk a little bit too much, lately this always throws me in a silly sad mood, so while everybody is dancing and having fun I seat in a corner and think " bloody island!"... in addition to that there is the annoying fact that I happen to fancy somebody, this always throw me in a silly sad mood, with or without alcohol. Hence, since 1+1=2 friday I was in a particularly silly/sad/jealous mood also due to a considerable number of girls dancing around (and not only around), my Guido of the moment. Fine. I went home, talked and laughed a bit with a friend, he made me knock on Guido's room to say goodnight, I was completely pissed by that time so I just laughed for a solid 10 minutes.... then straight to bed.... and dream.....

DREAM: I've dreamt the exact scene, me and my friend in the corridor, laughing, knocking on Guido's (not heaven's) door...all normal..but the dream went on and Guido said (I don't remember the exact words, it was sth on this line tho..):" Why the hell are you jealous?! even if I appear to fancy one of these girl, is only for one night, keep hoping, you are my future..." Something like that... I'm not even sure my dream was in english...

I've asked my friend who studies psychology but she was just too keen in reassuring me and her interpretation quite fast.. any ideas? thanks a lot

LIFE

Just to be in contrast with the latest tendency of this blog... I should be writing an essay about plague and strategies for survival, instead, I'm listening to Ronan Keating and thinking, never mind, I like it this way. Despite the title I get the feeling this post will actually be about death, once again. It will be about strategy for survival as well, in his/my own particular way.
Just about a year a go I was writing " you cannot cancel God from your life only because people you love die.." I do not know if was that sentence that let to all that happened later on, what I know is that particular piece of writing made a friend become such. It was worthy. Now I'd like to say that sentence was wrong, totally wrong. I do believe death, exactly like love, makes one ponder about the deep meaning of life, including God. Only through death and love one can really decide how he/she wants to live and wether or not there is a God. I am, now, dealing with both death and love and struggling like never before to keep me sane, alive, happy... truth is I'm deeply upset. This feeling of total sadness, loneliness, abandonment is permeating every thought and action. I cannot think or concentrate on my work, I am simply lost. I've started this year with the best intentions and expectations, what I got is a series of deaths and bad news. I feel defrauded. I was happy, for the first time in my life. Now I cannot stop crying. Mascie-Talyor said that january is the most common month for committing suicide, it may be true, it may be only the winter and the rain..but it may be not. I do love life more than I've ever done, but I've lost confidence, everything seems again too big for me... I keep saying to myself "go on, this is the right place, you deserve it, all you have to do is relax take a step back and leave Cambridge to do the rest it will save you again and make you a better person, a proper one..." apparently it doesn't work this time... maybe I just need to sleep and take my time.. however, I need to find a way out, right now. I need a strategy for survival, a genetic, social or technological trick to survive this week!!! I need it now. I need a hug as well, a huge long one....I need to cry this all out.. I need to die.. rise the third day...

PEOPLE....

I realize only now how much do people matter in my life... I'm not talking about the sad period of my life in which not knowing myself made me desperately try to copy/become like other people... still, every single great decision in my life has been made because I met somebody who with his/her simple living made me feel deep inside the need to give my life a precise direction, it doesn't matter if that particular resolution lasted for years or just for few minutes, what matters is that some people somehow did change my life! names are too many to remember them all... off top of my head: Cesare Pavese, Cristina, Rebecca, Monica, Sarah, Diego, Fuma, my 2 grandmas, Giovanni (both ones), Massimo Bonola, Adam Jones, my mum, my dad, Don Massimo, Federico, Jay Stock, Alan Macfarlane... and many many others.. I cannot find words enough to thank you all for making me the person I am, for having guided my choices to this place and this life! there is a reason for everything, probably you are the deepest reason of my choices.. thanks...
people do matter a lot in our life, if could only collect all that they have to teach us we would live far better... my resolution remains the same: dedicate my life to people, because they brought me from death to life!
thanks

MELANCHOLY

I've already demonstrated in my dissertation how melancholy and genius are strictly related being the former the source of the latter... however, I'd like to add that the conviction that you may be a genius doesn't help at all when all your mind and body are filled up with unbearable sadness. Thinking that you may be remembered for ever for your inestimable work of poetry, doesn't make you feel better when you see that you are actually a loser. Real life is a tricky business, that's all I have to say. Being thrown in the world after you've been living only in your mind for ages might be a bit painful from time to time... and I'm slipping, again, in the tortuous ways of my imagination, I'm feeling again how is it like to be in and outside the world at same time, to be lonely like none has never been, to be so weak and yet so powerful, I'm tasting again the deepest melancholy of my soul and loving the bitter, I feel so close to the gods, I'm actually dancing on the razor that separates life and death. The choice between absolute triumph and total rout it's only in my hands. I'm the master of this bloody show.
It's all in my mind.
The whole world.
In my mind.

DEATH

This is NOT gonna be a remake of J. Stock lecture... this is more likely going to be a requiem, here I cry Giovanni, and with him my 2 grandmothers, never cried enough, and all the special people who left this world.
I will not say they left too early, I do believe people always leave at the right time for them and for the others: there is a time for everything, even for dying. Still, I feel that life without Giovanni will be different, as it has been without my grandmas... people leave an empty niche which will be fill with tears, memories and dreams. People leave a sign in our lives, they become our heros, our stars. Their departure leaves a mark.
But we, the survivals, should keep on going, carry on the show, this bloody empty show, (the show must go on) and make treasure of everything we've learned from the once living. I'll go on, can't stop actually, but I know one little piece of my heart is now gone, in a grave, with him.
Just want to thank for the incommensurable chance I got to know him, thanks for the smiles, the wonderful words, for your happiness, your dedication, your love, thanks for holding my hand that day in church, thanks making me feel special, thanks for having crossed my road, thanks for having lived so closed and yet so far from me, thanks for your life. Thanks, wherever you are now, thank you!!!
And I hope I'll stop crying at a certain point...

"I believe you don't know what you've got until you say goodbye..."

Rest in Peace

CAMBRIDGE.....

Here I am, back in the 'Bridge, back to life.
This time, I know how does this life work, I know what to do and how, I know my daily routine...
I can stop worrying about what will happen to me and start to enjoy every single second, every single opportunity...
I realized I have no time for dreams, cose I'm already living one, but also and above all, cose they are what have ruined my life...
No more dream, it's time to size the day...
I'm stronger this time, I know that I can go back to the other half/live and survive...
I know what to do with my time, my life, the academic part of it..
I know what to do with myself
No more fears..
Cambridge saved me.

INCONTRO

Un anno è passato, volato come un battito d'ali o lo schiocco di una frusta...un anno, di cui gli ultimi due mesi sono valsi come una vita, un anno esatto da quando tu, amico mio, bussavi alla mia porta...ah, allora credevo che ogni rintocco del battente fosse un battito di speranza per il mio cuore, allora trepidavo e fremevo e mi preoccupavo di rispondere col tono giusto... oh ci penso ora e come mi sembra futile, che perdita di tempo, perchè mai? cos'era quel tuo bussare infondo? un soffio leggero del vento sulla soglia. Perchè mai m'affannavo a spiarti dalle finestre in ansia? neanche avessi avuto una treccia da gettarti dalla torre, neanche fossi stato tu, il più ardito o valoroso o anche affascinante dei cavalieri. Oh, come mi sembra sciocco ora... e quanto sciocca ero io nell' impiegare così la mia già breve esistenza! Eppure, eppure, in qualche modo amavo discorrere con te, non che fossero vere discussioni, l'arte dell'ascoltare non è mai stata il tuo forte e probabilmente mai lo sarà; e ogni volta mi sorprendeva come riuscissi a fare chilometri per parlare con me e poi decidessi di colpo che avevi di meglio da fare, quel modo brusco con cui ti avvalevi del silenzio per eruttare i tuoi pensieri e poi il tuo sparire così. Io rinchiusa nella torre, senza mai mostrarmi davvero ascoltavo, ridevo anche, non ho mai avuto nessuno che mi ascoltasse e di certo non lo avrei chiesto a te, ma essere zittita così era seccante..... Eppure, eppure, in qualche modo ero felice nella mia beata illusione di essere l'unica, o quasi, a poter scorgere un cuore oltre la corazza e speravo invano di poterti convincere a smettere l'armatura, la difesa e mostrare quell'animo gentile... sciocca illusa, come perdevo il mio tempo! non avevo questi privilegi e mai li avrei avuti, l'unica mia attività era la fantasia, il sogno, e avevo tessuto su di te favole degne di Omero, tutte fandogne, sciocchezze da ragazzina, ora lo so e ne rido..Che motivo avevi tu, di spogliarti di una corazza decennale difronte a una sconosciuta? nessuno...
Eppure, eppure, ti devo ringraziare per aver colorito di poesia momenti altrimenti morti di quest'anno lungo e strano, per avermi fornito, a volte, il carburante, la spinta emozionale gisusta per andare avanti con un sorriso, per godere di un tramonto svedese e apprezzare appieno la gioia del vento alla pelle. Per avermi illusa e accompagnata, per avermi ascoltata per quel poco che sai fare tu, per avermi donato le gioie e i pianti più sinceri di quest'anno. Grazie.

E pensavo dondolato dal vagone,
cara amica il tempo prende, il tempo dà,
noi corriamo sempre in una direzione ma,
quale sia e che senso abbia chi lo sa.

Restano i sogni senza tempo,
le impressioni di un momento,
le luci nel buio intraviste da un treno,
siamo qualcosa che non resta, frasi vuote nella testa,
nel cuore di simboli pieno.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Here we go, another year has come and passed, but this time looking back I can see how my life has changed in these 12 months ... and looking forward I can see (or only imagine?) how wonderful will be next year!!! for the first time I can say I'm alive... for the first time I'm deeply happy and I feel that all my dreams are just about to become reality because I'm finally strong enough to stand for them and size the day... so Merry Christmas everybody, and best wishes for next year, which is surely gonna be fantastic!!!

GOING HOME...

Here I am,with my half smashed face, packing my stuff with a funny sad mood covering all my moves like a cover...I don't wanna go. I'm living in a dream, I don't want to weak up. I fear that these 2 marvelous months could not be enough, that all my achievements, my goals, all the strength I now feel in my flesh, in my hand, could disappear as soon as I reach that bloody soil. I know, I know, we are who we chose to be, still I'm scared. I don't wanna go. Let me dream a little bit more.... let me here please... let me feel that I deserve to live, that I'm not shit, that I am. please, let me stay in Cambridge...............

FAREWELL

E sorridevi e sapevi sorridere, coi tuoi vent'anni portati cos',
come si porta un maglione sformato su un paio di jeans,
come si sente la voglia di viver che scoppia un giorno e non spieghi il perchè,
un pensiero cullato, un amore che è nato e non sai che cos'è.

Giorni lunghi, tra ieri e domani, giorni strani,
giorni a chiedersi tutto cos'era, verdi ogni sera.
ogni sera passare su a prenderti con quel mio buffo montone orientale,
ogni sera là a passo di danza, salire le scale
e sentire i tuoi passi che arrivano, il tinninare del tuo buonumore,
quando aprivi la porta il sorriso ogni volta mi entrava nel cuore.

Poi giù al bar, dove ci si ritrova, nostra alcova,
era tanto potere parlarci, giocare a guardarci,
tra gli amici che ridono e suonano, attorno ai tavoli, pieni di vino,
religione del tirare tardi e aspettare mattino,
poi una notte lasciasti portarti via, solo la nebbia e noi due in sentinella
la città addormentata non era mai stata così tanto bella!

Era facile vivere allora, ogni ora,
chitarre e lampi di storie fugaci, di amori rapaci
e ogni notte inventarsi una fantasia da bravi figli dell'epoca nuova,
ogni notte sembravi chiamare la vita a una prova.
Ma stupiti e felici scoprimmo che era nato qualcosa più in fondo
ci sembrava di avere trovato la chiave segreta del mondo.

Non fu facile volersi bene, restare assieme
o pensare di avere un domani e restare lontani,
tutti e due a domandarsi con chi sarà, in ogni cosa un pensiero costante,
un pensiero lucente e durissimo come il diamante,
e la notte lasciarsi portare via da un emozione non piena non colta,
rivedersi era come rinascere ancora una volta.

Ma ogni storia ha la sua conclusione, stessa illusione,
il peccato fu creder speciale una storia normale,
ora il tempo ci usura e ci stritola in ogni giorno che passa correndo,
sembra quasi che ironico scruti e ci guardi irridendo,
e davvero non siamo più quegli eroi pronti assieme ad affrontare ogni impresa
siamo solo due foglie aggrappate su un ramo in attesa.

the triangle timples and the trumpet plays slow

farewell non pensarci e perdonami se ti ho portato via un poco d'estate
o qualcosa di fragile come le storie passate;
forse un tempo poteva commuoverti, ma ora è inutile credo perchè
ogni volta che piangi o che ridi non piangi e non ridi con me.

EEGHA!!!

I was wrong.. I was damn wrong! But I've learned not to judge anymore and this is quite good after all! bloody italian culture always trying to judge people..
Anyway, I thought that Cambridge lecturers were kind of genius, serious people devoted to their research. And they are actually, but they do also find the time to challenge their superior intelligence with film like EEGHA!! and that's something amazing! sitting in a room with the most clever people in the world lathing at a crap (REALLY CRAP!!!) cave-men film was the highlight of my term! I do have the prove that intelligence and madness go together... oh,I am so happy now.. now I know that after all I'm not here by mistake...lol...brilliant!!! and EEGHA everybody!!

THE PAST...

It's coming back with insistence in these days..dunno why...I keep throwing those images and feelings to the back of my mind, I keep ignoring them..still, they are here like nightmares, annoying little flash of sadness, awfully real and still so far from me...weird feeling...I am changed, I am new person, I am not gonna listen to those silly voices..not now...not now that I am sure I am still the same bloody loser but an happy one!!!yes, that's what I am..an happy loser...I am gonna survive, once again...

BIG BROTHER IS WACTHING YOU...

Yesterday I went to the Fitz Carrers Event, just for fun actually (well and free food later..)cose if I really am to do what I want at the moment I don't need to be embployed by anyone, expecially not by a rich tv man with a texan jaw and a wearing a scarf in the typical berslusonian way. No thanks. Anyway, they basically sayed that you need to fight to get in anywhere, you need to fight a lot. Now, that was exacly the point of our lecture about socanth theory, these new victorian aristocratic men where saying me " life is a struggle for survival, and only the fittiest survive." Great. But, if theat's true I should have died 15 years ago, which I did not and I think I am doing pretty well since then. Conclusion: evolutionism, struggles, money all that kind of stuff might be important for certain kind of people, but it is not the only thing that matter. We do remeber only thiny, ill men, who weren't rich at all but able to write masterpieces like Ulisses, or Romeo and Juliet. We do not remeber the fittiest. The only people who survive time are considered looser by their contemporary, but genius by the next generations. Ergo, I am not gonna fight for a place in Tv. whatsoever.

REQUIEM

Now I know for sure that I am dead. I have been dieing slowly but inesorabily....little by little, every single to day, until this point..and now that I'm here I feel free, light like a butterfly even almost ready to my final challange, now I know, I feel, I have the strenght to win...Ite, missa est.