"I learnt something - at first certainly - that had not been one of the teachings of my small smothered life; learnt to be amused, and even amusing, and not to think for the morrow. […] Oh it was a trap - not designed but deep - to my imagination, to my delicacy, perhaps to my vanity; to whatever in me was most excitable."
Ora che sei vera, sai la verità
Siamo vivi per usarci
iperattività, ipersocialità da iperattesa
My Head has reached too much clarity.
team “i wore this yesterday but i’m going to a different place so it doesn’t matter”
The Loving the Alien one though. Every time I see it I can’t stop laughing
I’m such a horrible person sometimes.
And then I read things by people I know and I think: Why the fuck not? , but after all I’m not even someone who always says fuck fuck here and there. And then I say Maybe you really are a collector too much of a collector, because then it eats you not to collect things others collect. And do you remember enough of your life? Those little little details you like so much seeing in movies, convinced no one else sees them, the millimeter in the fold of actors’ mouths, the crease in the cloth that’s not exactly right that whoknowsifitwasmeantoriftheygotitwrong, the wrong foot with which a disabled starts walking in a movie so depressing your father runs away from the cinema, maybe those details, the real ones, your ones, you don’t remember them so well. Maybe I’m a boring person, or maybe I’m a person who has too much fun to look for other things with which to have fun.
And after all I guess I don’t have a group of hooligans, crazy for the sake of it, to write me things affectedly nonsense to make me feel special but maybe never as special as them.