Messy

There is a black shadow inside me, maybe more like a bag, full of hate, tears and shouting. And it is about to break and spread everywhere, and the shit is going to hit the fan...

And I am so tired that I don’t know if I care anymore...

Fantasies...

I am not my fantasies, and I don’t want to. But I do want to enjoy them. I love being myself and I do not change it for anything... but I love being somebody else when it is dark, when nobody knows, nobody sees, I love being somebody else, even if it is not politically correct, even more, if it is not politically correct...

Kicking on

When i feel like crap, like I’m being torn apart, like I don’t want to wake up every mornig, I keep telling myself I can grow out of this. Like a plant. And I think of a vine, dead here and there, and reborn a little later. And it doesn’t help, but I know I can do it anyway. And I don’t feel like making such an effort, but I do it anyway. And I wake up every morning. Dead or alive. U know.

Back

I know it's been long... And also that I fool myself when I say that I haven't had any time... Any? Well, say that my priorities have been changing a little bit. I haven't fogotten this blog, though. And from time to time I used to write posts. Head-posts, if you know what I mean. Strangely, neither of them have been registered here... Anyway, my life is quite different now. Different house, different pet, different number of kids, different neighborhood, different profession, even... Same shit.

Well, let's try to be positive...

I can't right now. But I have to say that I love my kids. And my pet. Maybe even my new job. If only it were an actual job... Frustration, disappointment, sadness, and sometimes also anger.

I... ok, hate myself is a little too strong. Maybe don't like me very much lately. I have been quite stupid. What a surprise. I have made many mistakes. There are no many mistakes that cannot be solved, said somebody in a very interesting something somewhere... Sounds good, like it. But when it comes to real real real life, it's bullshit. Maybe it's not. Maybe my mistakes, the most important ones, those that are breaking my head right now, maybe those belong to the very small percentage that cannot be solved. And now I find myself in a position that I can't stand any more. But unable to change it because... How can I hurt that much so many people I care so much?

Well, see you

PS. Little stinky is dead, by the way...

Little stinky

Hey, did i tell u that we are three now?? And i’m not talking about the little ball growing inside me (we shall wait some six months in order to see it grow – what the fuck, don’t they know the longer the easier to name them? and then you’re lost... we shall wait... for what? for it to develop eyes? – And best of all is the assertion: i’m sure you don’t have any symptoms, it’s too small, may be just casual. Yeah, i bet it is). The newcomer is a ferret! Last day i quick-emailed a good friend: hey!! congratulations for your new home! Know what? we have a ferret now! Have to go, xxxx. U know, the kind of thing u do when u have like three spare seconds. His answer was something very similar to: Yeah, u have to come visit. Honey, aren’t ferrets dangerous? hey, i might be mistaken, but... He really seemed worried :) but ferrets are not much more dangerous than cats, in fact. Sharper teeth, yeah, probably. Try to keep your fingers out of their mouth and... solved! =D

It’s sooo very cute, he jumps, runs and hides alternatively, looks back and seems to be about to say can’t catch me, can’t catch me!!! Ok, true, it stinks... But apart from that, c’est génial!!! I’ll put some clothespins next to the door, in case anybody can’t stand it...

Sounding stupid...

This castle in the air happens to be tall, very tall. Attractive and charming, enfolding like the clouds. Sure of himself, talkative, flavoured with a very intelligent touch of humour. So very natural that everything seems really easy. Funny, comfortable, serious though not quite... impossible with those sparkles in the eyes. Thundery voice, double surround system, that can be so private and sweet, so erotic. Castle in the air, sure is not mine, and i don't want him to be. He is so his that i want to be mine. And share his everything from time to time. Mmm, what about tomorrow?

About castles and clouds

Somebody said once something like have you been building castles in the air? good, they are exactly where they should be, now go lay the foundations.

The general feeling of the week-end is that of being in a dream. But full of colour, taste, touch, so real and earthly, so fulfilling... simply brilliant in the most ample sense.

I’ve always loved building castles in the air, but the occasions when i had actually laid their foundations are very rare. Mostly because many of the times i like them exactly the way they are: floating. I like that dizzy feeling, vertigo. Also because i like moving from one to another, no need for a bunch of boxes to be filled with (mainly) crap. And because dreams are so very important that living off with the fairies from time to time should be mandatory, at least for some of us.

Last few months i’ve been starting to lay foundations to one of my firsts castles i remember of. Last two or three weeks much more consciously. I have had some help, i must say. Collaboration is always basic ;)

Sometimes, laying foundations means letting them become real enough to be potentially broken any time soon. They could catch fire any minute (watched The Pillars of the Earth? I didn’t finish, breaks were far too long and interesting, though we did our best) and crumble before your eyes.

Sometimes, laying foundations is like living in a dream. But real. With its colours, smells, feelings... enfolding with a dizziness coming from the inside.

Sometimes it happens to be both.

Let me tell you something: i feel so happy that there is a stupid smile all over my face. Thing is right now, the fact that it’s being a dream for so long is the less important by far. It may have been a boost, but immediately transformed. Into a stupid smile, i guess. Into a current dream, real and palpable. Into a vulnerable me, strong in my accessibility. I am not floating, nor being foolish or dreamy. Still, this is fucking good.

It’s taken me time, but it’s good to feel that being myself is not that scary, it can even work. That feeling and enjoying and showing what i am is not that dangerous. Information is power, of course. So please choose the right ears. But feeling comfortable... home... just as calm as excited... mmm, delicious. Rum punch =D

Bitch

I hate the world today...

All i have to do is dream...

I feel lost. Can’t find anything that reflects my feelings, and i swear i have heard like a thousand songs today. Ok, i may be exaggerating a tiny little bit, but have heard loads of songs. Fifties, eighties, nineties, soul, pop, rock, no matter what. But for heavy; no heavy today. And i have listened to meredith brooks’ bitch like twenty times (i mean it!). I guess it gets close. Changeable? me? oh, please...

Seems that i have to find a job right now. I mean another... those nice two women working in the hr department are planning to suck me soon. So i better go before they do. Thing is i don’t know where... don’t know what to do with my life, don’t know what i want, or what i like. I do not feel like waking up in the morning, in fact. I’d stay in bed all day long. And it wouldn’t make any change.

A friend of mine said,not long ago, that we are not 22 anymore, and we should be closer to know what the fuck we want, closer to what we actually want. Talking about work, am i closer than when i was 22? not in the least, i’m afraid. The only real difference is that i am much more conscious about the fact that it’s getting urgent...

I remember being in my early twenties. It wasn’t that different... or was it? well, maybe it was... I was studying, most of the time working too, and sure it was hard, sure the exams drove me mad, sure three or four months a year i was stuck at home, glued to the computer and stuff like that. But the rest of the time... hehehe... aaand there’s the summer holidays issue too: two to three months, do what you want, go where you please and manage to work there... I know studying is hard, and i’m not trying to underestimate it. I remember thinking oooff, this is crap, can’t stand it any more... i remember i wanted to start working, real life, u know... Seems i’m never satisfied. Seems i had an idealized idea of “real world”. Fuck it.

Now i’m not 22 anymore i’m older, but also wiser. I do many things i wouldn’t have dreamt of, and i’m pretty happy with myself, so much more than i used to, in any case. I don’t know. Would i go back to my early twenties? I know for sure i wouldn’t go back to my teens, but having 22 again is tempting, can’t hide it =)

Anyway, as i said, i do feel more and more comfortable with myself, and also with my age. It is enriching, growing up ;) And i wouldn’t change so many things of my current life so i guess i could not possibly go back to be 22 that way...

Talking about twenties... when i was twenty, i met a guy in his forties. He was next to my first boyfriend... well, second (after the one that looked much better dressed that naked, thick dick and all). He was a boss in the company i worked for at that moment, and the day before leaving the job i sent him an email. He happened to be quite unstable, depressive (now i think of it, probably almost every men i have been with has been depressive... bad bad bad), not tall, not very handsome... ooofff, sounds awful, doesn’t it? He had something, though. He was kind of adorable. Anyway, i was going abroad for the summer, and i told him i didn't want anything serious till i came back. He was not supposed to be phoning every two hours to tell me any stupid thing that could have crossed his mind. The day he asked me to tell him i loved him, then urged me to do so, then kept insisting on it, i realized i was wrong, so wrong. Again. Didn’t pick up the phone ever since, till i came back. By the way, i didn't tell him i loved him, because i didn't. Fortunately i didn't give him time enough... now i really think he was a little bit... insane... And going on with my exes, i got involved with a guy (whose name i don’t remember) that had everything: he was kind, nice, handsome, he had money, a great job, a pretty good house, he was attractive (though a bit short)... good in bed... i don’t know why i didn’t like him, in fact. Maybe because he was not depressive and weird, maybe because he was handsome or had so many good things... but the fact is that i got kind of bored the first morning. We kept meeting for a whole week, but i new it was about to finish. When i left i didn’t even give him my mobile phone #, or my email address. I never knew anything else about him. But every time i watch Nemo i remember lying on his carpet, watching that huge screen, eating popcorn and drinking good wine, laughing insanely and feeling his eyes glued on me. He was good.

Strike two

I used to be very big. Much taller than the other kids at school. And strong. When i was three going on four i started ballet. Not that i wanted to. It was the only thing i could do, being so small. I hated it. I had to go on for three months, then quitted. Next year i started judo. That suited me more. But i was not supposed to hurt anybody. I was not supposed to use it out of the classes. I was to be a good girl. I was one.

When i was about ten three or four boys were walking some steps ahead of me on the street. I think they were smaller than myself, though at least one of them was probably older. But the younger one was very, very young. He grabbed my hair and pulled, so i smiled, lift him from the ground just holding his arm. I didn't think the others could behave the way they did, and couldn't even imagine another way of behaving myself, facing such a strange situation, everybody smaller than myself and with a very young kid. But the others saw i didn't defend myself, so they attacked. Next thing i know i was lying on the floor. It felt like a very long time passed and a woman finally shouted out to them to let me go. I think i run back all the way, crying. They really hurt me (and my pride, gosh =D)

I didn’t tell anybody but my mother, because she was there and happened to be the “safe place” back then. I just didn’t talk about it and simply forgot it. Remembered it a long time later, casually. It still feels kind of uncomfortable.

The other day i exposed my doubts about the subject to a friend i really trust. The direction he took seems good to me: never hit, but defend yourself. I think i’ll note it down.

Much better than the opinion of this late relative ;) of mine: he happened to have taught his nephew how to hit. That’s the only way they wouldn’t be pissed off, he maintained. I don’t agree. I cannot help being against. I won’t teach my son how to hit. But i have to admit it could be useful...

Strike first

Maybe i was wrong there, maybe somebody should have taught us how to hit. Always strike first, and the hardest the better. If they don’t move again, they won’t hurt you anymore. Like in that book. This is the jungle, baby. And now i wonder what should i tell my son. As far, i stick to the old you shall not hit. The other day there was a little boy, older than mine, playing with a balloon around. He started hitting my son with the balloon, and when my son hit him, i told him that. Don’t hit anybody. But the boy went on hitting him hard (as hard as a balloon can be, it did not hurt him), and he looked at me, half blankly, half helpless, what can i do, he seemed to ask me. I told him not to play with people who hurt him after he’d told them not to do it. Get off them, i said. They’re just stupid. But next time the boy hit him and he hit back, i looked elsewhere and pretended not to have seen anything. Not very coherent, am i? Next time i rose i approached that kid and told him something like never ever hit this boy here, do u hear me? Slightly menacing ^-^ I don’t want my kid to hit, but if i pretend him to come tell me when he’s got a problem, i better show him i actually do something on the matter... besides, i’m a female mammal, mother and everything, what else can be more instinctive that showing my claws? =) After all, you know what being a bit of a lioness is like...

A bit of everything

Lately i have run into several really good books.

One of them i was rereading it. And i didn’t finish it. I don’t mean i didn’t really finish it... truth is, from time to time, i read the end before time (and at that moment sometimes i lose interest and just stop reading...), so i already knew what was gonna happen... but this time i liked it so much, and what happened was that i didn’t want it to be finished. So i started reading veeery slowly, just some pages in a row, then some phrases, then... just left it there, by my side, kindda handy, just in case, some half a page still to be read...
t was sad, very sad. You could be laughing all the time throughout the book, but there was always that bitter taste deep inside, just like when you laugh with a joke about dead people or when Roberto Benini is making faces for his son not to get too spattered by all the shit covering that beautiful life. You know it is sad. It’s just the way it is told.
I think this is one of my favourite books. Anagrams.

The second one is not that good, from my point of view, but it’s got really good phrases, and a very special way of writing. It’s all about a young man that decides not to get out of his room again. He prefers living out of the music he’s got, the lyrics of rock are a far much better school than rough and painful life itself. And better examples, too. He keeps talking and talking to himself, not making a lot of sense most of the times, or, at least, leaving everything very open for interpretations.
Its prose's got sth, either you hate it or love it, i guess... Like one of my teachers at university. I loved him. I used to have a boyfriend back then, but still i would have had sex with him. I mean that i would have quitted that boyfriend i had; i don't like being unfaithful, weird as it may sound coming from me =) But i can’t help it; i like men when i got absorbed by what they say (or sing, i love singers), no matter how ugly they may be, i can get to see sth special, even physically. This one was not precisely Brad Pitt...
And though i have finished that book, i still feel i haven’t, neither. There was this sentence, saying something like elephants know a lot about courage, you fuckin’ kidding me? they better do, such a big animal has nowhere to hide...

The third one, short randomly chosen stories about almost everything, life and death present all the time. A bit surreal, a bit so real... Feelings out in the open or stuffed into a bubble ready to explode. Tragic and dramatic but never taking delight on that; with the accent slightly placed on the bright side. Very sweet all through the harshness, simple and easygoing. Delicious.

Close your eyes

What a storm... reminds me of so many other storms... if i close my eyes long enough, i can even feel them together with this one. It smells like buildings and sand, today. long thunders come from far away. Big lightenings break the dark sky full of dots of bright lights from other apartments. Great storm from the beginning, when it was but a few lightenings seen trough the clouds, no rain, and the thunders came from even farther away, not easy to distinguish from the sound of the waves of the beach where we were laying flat, enjoying his very first storm at the beach. Hey!! Did you see that?? Did you see that one?! It was biiig!!! He laid on me, his little head on my chest, and then on my belly, and then lets go throw stones to the waves, ok, but hold my hand all the time, it's dark and i dont wanna lose sight of you, it scares me...

It smells faintly of sand and lemon trees... it's a pity there are built things everywhere, the smell is fading so fast...

I remember once, i was a teen, up in a little wooden house made years ago, not really suitable for anybody anymore. Sb shouted i should go back inside, i had to, i must, but i pretended not to hear.

I remember another day, i went into the sea and laid there, water everywhere, thunders at the back of my head, waves going higher and higher. We went out, and sat at the breakwater, looking the sea get mad, sending froth everywhere, lost and never forgiven mermaids that will never be able to walk or see their families again. When i see that white layer disappear slowly from the sand, from the top of the waves, i always remember the real story. Not the sweetened-disney one, but Andersen’s little mermaid, the one that never got to the point of deciding between her lover and her family, because life decided for her: you will become white foam. Seems that in fact she didn’t become foam, but an eternal soul that... whatever. I’ve always been very sceptical, so, for me, she’ll always be on top of the waves, swimming fast, appearing and disappearing over and over again...

The time of my life

Here we are, in hell.

Do you remember Dirty Dancing? Well, this is a bit like that, u know, lots of noise and people everywhere, really, everywhere, packed, pushing each other just because there is no place for everybody to coexist. Loud crappy music, people jumping up and down, streching arms and twisting all together, follow the leader, leader, leader, hey, macarena, ooofff, scary... See? like dirty dancing, but for the hero. No Patrick Swayze that i have seen (true that i tend to avoid organized whateverthing, maybe i should go dance there and feel even more stupid... mmm... no, i think i won’t). So, as i was saying, like dirty dancing, but without patrick swayze, and, in truth, without the good soundtrack and the dancing part... so, in fact... guess this is just dirty, and not even the interesting way of being so...

My mobile phone is on strike, what means that i no longer know what’s the time and am not sure whether the alarm works properly or not. Or if it would. In case i would need it, i mean. Because i’m on holidays, remember? =D Now go say i’m not fucking positive.

And i have no internet...

Anyway, i’m really having the time of my life. Pushing boundaries, making faces, preparing foods in his little brand-new kitchen (there is rice everywhere, by the way), singing songs about pirates, doors and birthdays, reading and re-reading wild things and moons and zebras called camilla. Just brilliant. Sensitive enough to see when his mom is about to become red and explode, sensible enough so as to change his mind as soon as he realizes. Ok, no real need for that little chair, anyway. I’ll leave it where it was. Casual, soothing, like a good joke.

The other day we watched a film. He didn’t get much. Kept asking what’s gonna happen? where is the... robert? dog? whatever it was? where is it? what’s happening? why are they following them? He didn’t even notice they were from another planet, green anthenna and everything. I guess there was no real difference for him; in fact, there was no real difference... Anyway, we got to the point when the hero was taken. Aaand he obviously scaped. And then everybody run away... mum, are they gonna cut his head now? i want to see them cut his head off, i want to, i want to... Definitely, he didn’t really get much... I think we are going back to Nemo, so appropriate, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, he says while he tries to keep his eyes, mouth and nose out of the water in the swimming pool, everything else sinking fast...

Besides, i have never slept as much in my life.

About trains and other stuff

There is a song that says sth like sooner or later you’ll have to learn some things that are not taught at school: seizing the sky with your bare hands, laugh and cry everything you need to say, patching your torn soul, overcoming the fear to be left looking like an idiot... Well, i learnt the last bit recently... I thought ok, either i go right for the yugular or i miss that train... and, my gosh, what a train!

Ad-guy, all smiles, working around... he's got it all... awsomely good looking, bike, good ass, white toothpaste-ad-smile, even seems to be very nice... And there i was, last day before my long and really deserved vacation, almost mad and with a foot already out of the office. He asked me to make him a favour. Hehe, i could have made him two... Please, could you scan this for me? Well, yeah, as long as you take me out for a ride in your bike... Ok, he said. Fair enough, innit? ;D Thing is that he left and i couldn't even tell him i was leaving for a month. So i texted him... To put it into a nutshell, i became very very clear about what i wanted, and he told me he was out of the city. Ever since, we have texted each other every some days.

Last time he did, he wrote sth like yeah, going with my family for holidays and also with my girlfriend for a week. I’m sure he didn’t add NOTE the girlfriend part because it would have been too long for a text message. Sounds kindda childish, doesn’t it? So i answered a whole month at the beach because my son will enjoy it more. Square. He never answered back.

See? Guess that’s why i prefer men in their fortyish... they go more like yeah, my wife is not home this week end, shall we meet? =D

Aand that’s why i’ll never ever marry.

(At least a man in his fortyish... i’ll marry a man in his twentyish when i’ll be fifty!! – am i not funny? :D)

But i just broke two main rules: never say never ever and don’t state you'll never do something because no matter what, you can end up doing things you could have never pictured yourself doing. And, anyway, i’m just being cynical, as usual... none of this is stricticly true... Though i really think things don’t drop too far from it.

And i won’t marry, by the way.

My coworker said pity he’s got a girlfriend, but, hey, don’t worry – No, i won't, and, anyway, he owns me a ride... we'll see, i don't even care if he's got a girlfriend or not, it's his business. She laughed and said yeah, i haven't seen you for some days and just forgot... then hear you say sth like this and remember to whom i am talking...

Family and other crap

Let me tell you a little story...

There was this guy. Young, blond, tall, blue eyes, handsome, or so it seems. He met a girl, they had a relationship, a baby came. Then they broke the relationship, he met another girl, and another baby came. The relationship got broken before he knew she was pregnant; he had the perfect excuse when one day he got a letter with a picture of a cute little blonde boy, this is your son, in case u might be interested, and this is our address, just in case... he didn’t seem to be interested. He broke the letter, together with the picture. A bit later, he moved to another city. He got engaged to another woman. Life’s ironies, they couldn't have children for a long time; seems that his sperm had become lazy, after so much movement. Nowadays, he has a five-year-old son. Blue eyes. With the first of the three he's got a light contact. Broken for years and rejoined afterwards, it's kindda cordial now, kindda once a month we phone, well, maybe, or email, or text. With the second one, nothing at all. Don’t know him, but i don’t even know the name or where he lives. The third child is living with him and everything. So here u have three very different ways of having a child represented in an only person.

And i wonder.

I wonder why, i wonder how... (just another lemon tree?) I wonder how this can happen, i wonder how he can sleep at night, i wonder why the fuck can he say (even think!) that he knows about having a child older than the one he’s living with, i wonder why should i give that little blue-eyed boy, that obviously is not to be blamed for anything, more importance than to the other blond boy whose picture was so easily discarded. Or so it seems. Are they not exactly the same? Are we not exactly the same, all of us, we humans? Obviously not. It all depends on luck. Lucky we were born where we were born, when we were born and surrounded by whom we are surrounded, the ones that have stuck... in an ample sense...

I use to call him excuse me.