… dopo il terrore. Ieri sera il mio Bro mi ha detto che il mio post qui sotto non le era piaciuto. Ha ragione. Non è piaciuto neanche a me, come non mi è piaciuto trovarmici dentro. Ho dibattuto se toglierlo o renderlo privato, ma poi ho deciso di lasciarlo e usarlo come un’occasione per ragionarci e ancora una volta cercare il filo d’Arianna dentro il labirinto del mio cervello malridotto.
… Era un attacco di panico in diretta. Non c’è bisogno di ringraziarmi per il servizio.
Cari amici del cosiddetto “rave itinerante a Milano”, spero che moriate tutti bruciati vivi, lentamente, dolorosamente, davanti ai vostri cari. Mi trema lo specchio in bagno, e sono dall’altra parte della strada e dall’altra parte della casa. Pisapia, sei una merda, e spero che tutta la gente che finirà in ospedale sia sulla tua coscienza per sempre e che ti porti all’orrore dell’ansia e delle…
Communicating is harder than ever – writing on FB, replying to emails, basic housekeeping on Twitter and Tumblr. I’m just too scared.
I also told her how I resent more and more being in Milan. I sleep ok, it’s the best part of my life. But I sleep alone. I miss my gatakia and their non-threatening touch. There’s never been a better time to get a cat, but the practical difficulties are just…
Nothing notable save that I might feel better at my folks’ because there I have a role, while in Milan I am nothing.
Forgot to tell the doc if the resurgence of the terrorist. Especially today when my middle finger just aches to be raised at anybody.
Peeked into Twitter yesterday to vent my disgust for Maldonado. Wanted to greet people, wanted to check Tumblr and stuff, but I’m a mess. No big thing, just lots of little things.
Sometime in April: broken pipes in my home and our seaside home, at once.
April 20: Easter at my folks’.
April 25: Soncino for a Celtic fair.
April 26: Milan for birthday party.
Sometime during the weekend: 2 cats give…
I have to catch a train, meet someone, buy something, and I’m dressed as a Napoleonic camp follower. This was the oldest part of the dream, quite typical this far.
Cut. Dad takes me to a museum where there are rectangular pools of dark water in the floor. He says it’s a training camp for fishermen; he’s taken several people there, maybe even Mom, who I don’t think has ever fished in real life.…
The Ayrton Senna pic above was scanned with the wrong settings so it looks like a Warhol portrait, but it’s actually a life-size photograph enlargement, hanging in my room. I took it. I was this close to him once.
I have no time now to rescan it – I’m leaving tomorrow for a family affair and today it’s gonna be packing, packing, packing. And celebrating Ayrton’s life.
I chose this lousy pic for…
A collection of Christian Easter greetings in ALL THE LANGUAGES ALL OF THEM compiled by a brilliant blogger I follow for serious news about the Shroud of Turin. I mean, Quenya, Klingon and Dothraki? How cool is this?
While I collect my thoughts for the final Spain post, today is therapy day. I’ll tell the doc the trip was ok and my fear of flying seems to be over. More worrisome is my enduring rage, fear and sense of alienation. I’ll need to tell the psychiatrist her tweak to my meds hasn’t worked at all. I still need to be drunk to accomplish things. And what about my unconscious avoidance of paperwork? I’ve…
Stuck in Granada because of double-parking and a student manifestation. I feel at home!
I’ll add more details about the trip later, for now I’m just venting. I overlooked Sevilla but it was beautiful. I fell in love with the Alcazar, bought a shirt and climbed the Giralda. Hope I’ll see the cathedral here in Granada, right now we’re headed for the Alhambra.
¡Hasta la revolución siempre!
After an uneventful Seville, we literally seceded this afternoon when, as per the program (“informative tour of Cordoba’s historical centre”) we were dumped at the Roman bridge and told we had ten minutes to take pics of the Mezquita Catedral, and then on to our hotel
Our feisty friend protested, and so, instead of a tour of the city centre as I had understood from…
Despite the beginning, Ronda was fine. Slept on the bus at every chance. Reached Sevilla in the evening. Ate and slept rather well. This morning it’s Sevilla, this afternoon no idea.
Wish I could post pics, but looks like WordPress mobile doesn’t allow it. Instagram doesn’t impress me. I’ll have to find a solution when I get home.
Good news: no fear of plane, the Holyland miracle holds, and I didn’t suffer so much for the night time start.
Bad news: we’re in a group of a thousand psychopaths, leader included. They didn’t regroup after disembarking, the happy few went to the bathroom (no asking everybody who needed it) and then took off at light speed. My aunt, a friend and I stopped two seconds for the bathroom and they…